#idk what else to tag but thank you in advance!

[ophanimgold]

hi, i'm maya, a black/white biracial artist and my mom megan, who is disabled, needs help avoiding eviction! she recently got laid off and i am currently seeking work from home, though i am unable to get a job in time for rent. RBs appreciated, thank you! anything sent through ko-fi with a request will get art in return!

alternatively: etsy ko-fi @ redrobinzzz (venmo) $ophanimgold (cashapp)

[wonustars]

𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (Teaser)

𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 15k+ (this teaser: 643 words)

𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) (none in this teaser though)

𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. 𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.

𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, joshua is jeonghan's accomplice in everything, reader is the only one who knows how to cook, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse. (more will be added in the full fic) 𖦹 smut tags/warnings will be added in the full post.

𖦹 taglist form. you can also comment or send an ask but the form is preffered! :) thank u

𖦹 note: this jeonghan fic idea has been cooking in my head for a longgggg while now. idk when it'll be out but cosidering i'll have more down time, i'd say by the end of this month? but it really depends so sorry in advance if i take longer than that lol. i've also decided to make a google form for anyone who wants to be added to the tag list (you must be 18+ though, and i will check if your age is in your bio), as well as a permanent one if you'd like! anyways see you all soon! mwah - anna.

Read More Here.

You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.

It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a random bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do.

Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spits at you, his eyes cold as ice. 

Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad, you haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few hours ago you were ready to start fresh, starting a new semester at the University you transferred to from your hometown. 

Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest. 

“I said what the fuck is your problem?” He repeats himself, the fire in his eyes flaming against the light of the afternoon sun. 

“I’m sorry, I tripped and-” You begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your sorry excuse of an explanation. 

“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me.” He seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks. 

Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away. 

“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt.” You scoff at him, unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger. 

Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you were the one to stain his clothes.  His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is, he asks himself.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not going anywhere. 

You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is a lot on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes, he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful? 

“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t Mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” He shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy. 

Little did you know, your prayers had done the opposite of what you asked.

© wonustars

𝄒𓏲࣪ . ⩇⩇ 𝄒 𖥻 a/n: my bad all, ik it's another uni au please dont hate me T-T. i promise i'll do something different next time BUTTTT i'm literally only about 1.5k words in but i'm already excited to share it with you all! please look forward to it :)))

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Helloo!

Idk if you take requests , but could you maybe write a fic with Human!Alastor and male!reader where reader exaggerates his whole personality to comply with everyone else and is easily exhausted from it and Alastor "relaxses" reader in that way ?

Thank you in advance and have a good day !

Alastor - [ MASQUERADE ]

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A/N: This request really made me brainstorm but I've decided to break it into 2 parts. I hope you'll enjoy it! As always kindly lmk the artist of the fanart so I can tag them and give proper credit! ❤️

WARNINGS: [ SLIGHT NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SUGGESTIVE THEMES ] + [ MALE READER ] + [ FLUFF…if you squint ]

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“You're on air in ten minutes, Y/n. Pick it up before the host gets restless!”

Your so-called manager barked from the dressing room doorway, giving one last glare your way before strutting off, grumbling a string of curses you'd learned to ignore.

“Asshole…” you scoffed, turning back to the striped mirror of your vanity; the large bulbs that lit it gave enough light in the old stuffy backstage space, illuminating every detail of your appearance.

Not one thing could be out of place.

You wouldn't allow it, committed to your role as a rising preformer in the golden age of the stage, and conditioned to perfectionist standards from years of tribulations

Suffering behind a practiced smile won you your stardom. The ambiguous beauty you possessed helped immensely in your success on the silver screen, but the truest contributor to your fame was appeal.

Humourous, intellectual, but most crucial, sex appeal.

That's what kept your admires enthralled, permanently put you in the limelight from the start, and inevitably earned you considerable amounts of money.

You weren't opposed to being called a child of Dionysus himself, envied by those who wanted you. Still, the burden of putting on a show for everyone every day without giving them a glimpse of your faults was excruciating.

Yet, you chose the burden over sulking in the darkness, remaining among the ordinary when you so clearly had the makings of a star, and your status of high popularity among the masses was proof of it.

So be it if your cheeks ached from smiling at frivolous fans that your laugh sounded less like your own the more you forced it, that flirtations of others felt like empty praises, or that every project you agreed to felt less and less stimulating.

So fucking be it.

Fame is fickle; you knew this all too well, but your existence felt meaningless without it.

Empty.

All the world's riches, the undivided favor you garnered from the public, and the sparkling awards cluttered your penthouse display shelves…

Even with all that at your fingertips, you had yet to feel seen…

Seen and truly adored.

“Two fucking minutes! Get your ass in position. This interview is being broadcast live, remember?” your manager harped at you from the hall, causing you to grunt in frustration before yelling back, “Would you shut your trap?! Fucking hell…I'm coming!”

You set aside the whiskey glass in your left hand, ran your right through your recently styled hair, and checked your reflection one last time.

“It's only a radio show. One little interview and you can go home and get black-out drunk…” the idea of spending some much-deserved time alone after running around doing a press tour brought a sad smile to your face as you stood and exited the dim room.

This would be your last stop, an interview with Louisiana’s prided radio host, and the last person you'd need to put a show on for before returning home.

“Finally…” your manager grumbled as you stepped into the hall, giving you a once over as the two of you strolled down the hall towards the host recording area, “Don't fuck this up. People say this ones a real talker and can make or break ya..” he mumbled begrudgingly.

You paid his incessant pestering no mind, flashing him a suave smile as you both stopped before a heavy door, “Don't tell me you're starting to care about my reputation now? Thought you only saw me as a nice money grab…”

Your smile grew as laughter bubled in your chest, seeing the other slowly become agitated at your backhanded comments.

“Why, you little-”

“Oh, don't be rude, sir. You'll spoil my good mood, and god knows sour spirits bring bad luck,” you smirked, enjoying the scrunch of his nose as his expression reflected his true nature, but before he could snap, you pushed the door open and slipped into the soundproofed station room.

What a fucking pain he is…

You cursed the raging man outside, sighing softly as the sound of jazz lingered through the air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a distinct cologne engulfed you.

The space felt and looked inviting, relaxing even, but what caught your attention was the man who occupied it.

He sat in a desk chair across the small room, facing a table full of controls and a mic to match. His face was lowered from the device, glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of his nose as he stared at what you assumed was a script for your conversation with him, but the simmering amazement overtook your curiosity about the paper he held you felt hearing him hum along to the song he was airing.

You didn't dare move an inch closer, satisfied with watching and listening to him from afar, oddly entrapped by the silent allure he cast.

It was no mystery that people loved the sound of his voice. You'd be fooling yourself if you said you hadn't found his commentary enchanting, but looking at him in the flesh, you were sure he'd flourish on the silver screen like no other.

He could indeed win the eyes of many…

Yours especially, and to some degree, he had already, but you hesitated to admit it even as he turned to face you.

Oh…. he is a beauty, that's for sure…

That was the singular thought in your mind as he smiled, standing from his seat before approaching you with all the confidence you'd merely portrayed.

“Hello there. You must be Y/n L/n. I'm Alastor Hartifelt. It's a pleasure to meet you, my friend!”

His voice was as smooth, melting into the background melodies inexplicably, and your heart lightened immensely as he held out a hand for you to shake.

“The..the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hartifelt..” you inwardly scolded your delayed greeting, losing track of your practiced charm relatively quickly in his grasp. Still, in seconds, you recovered from the blunder while returning his smile.

Alastor took you in with a glance up and down your figure, cataloging every detail of your appearance out of habit, but when his gaze met yours, one thought crossed his perceptive mind.

Longing?

How curious…

You hid the familiar emotion well; seeing past the veil of contentment wasn't tricky, and though he was tempted to bring it forth.

You two shook hands briefly but firmly. Alastor stepped back, gliding his hand out to mention towards the recording station. “Come, have a seat, and please call me Alastor. We will be on air after all; formalities aren't necessary for an engaging broadcast.” His smile grew, emitting an unearthly kindness as you nodded in understanding before sitting in the chair opposite his.

“You make an excellent point, Alastor. I hope we enjoy each other's company.” You chuckle softly, feeling a tad nervous for a reason unknown but genuinely harboring a rise in excitement, hearing him respond promptly.

“I have no doubt we will…” Alastor muses more to himself, a delicate edge to his voice as he trailed behind you, and a certain twinge of intrigue rattled your spine at the implication.

For the first time in a long time, you weren't dreading the inclinations of your fame, gradually succumbing to the sparks of joy Alastor evoked with the most straightforward words and becoming surer of the fact as he took his seat next to you.

“Shall we begin?” he implies cheekily, and you reply in a quick, witty fashion, “We shall.”

————-

“Care for a drink, my friend? I believe we’ve earned ourselves a cold glass of whiskey… that is, If your evening is unreserved.” Alastor made the offer moments after switching your respective microphones off, quickly arranging the recording panel to a specific setting as he listened for your response.

Your mouth moved quicker than your mind; a distinct rush overtook at the thought of spending more time with the charismatic radio host, “I'd be delighted to join you. I must agree that our interview went quite well. It's rare to have an easy conversation with a stranger these days..”

Alastor raised a brow, sparing you a glance as he finished sliding keys and flicking switches into place to keep a calming stream of music lingering in his broadcast, “So, I'm still a stranger to you?… My, and I thought we were getting on so well…“

He spurs you casually, an air of hurt in his expression, and it stuns you, causing a red hue to rise on your cheeks, “Th-that's not at all what I meant, Alastor…” Your lower head twinges of embarrassment staining your consciousness, and for the third time that evening, Alastor had chipped away at your charm.

He enjoyed it….

Seeing you falter and conform to his standards, though you didn't need to, at any time, you could've remained indifferent to him and taken your leave the moment he shut your mic off, but you remained.

Solely because you'd grown attached to him or the defect he had on you.

Humbling, genuine understanding, but above all else, validation.

“My dear, I am only poking fun. I take no offense to your words, and I hope you'll grant me the same courtesy!” Alastor reached for you, thumb and forefinger slipping under your chin to lift it, and you obeyed his gesture with a soft smile. “Oh…I…”

You paused, swallowing thickly as he raised himself from the chair, head lowered toward yours as he stood above you.

Had he always been so tall?

So brooding?

You weren't entirely sure, but your heart raced, every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation as if you were a deer caught in his headlights, but you couldn't retreat or evade him.

“You what?..” Alastor cooed quietly, chocolate eyes on fire with an emotion you'd long forgotten but returned subconsciously.

Control.

You needed to be back in control, or the next breath between you two might lead to something…

Your mind played scenario after scenario, beginning to short circuit as he peered down at you, lips only inches from yours, and his other hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch is searing, warmer than those you'd felt before, intentional, and your entire being buzzed in his grasp as if in a drunken stupor.

He was dangerous… able to tear through your facade easily, which was terrifying.

Polarizing.

Don't let him get any closer…

Keep him at a distance…

You've only just met him...

Warnings rang in your head, but your eyes lowered to his lips, and your voice remained quiet as you responded to his question.

“I" 'd like to have that drink before the night ends. Wouldn't you?"With a gentle nudge of your head and a soft laugh, you draw away from Alastor's touch. The space between you increases, and the ability to breathe becomes less strenuous as you stand to your feet, collecting your overcoat before slipping it on, "I'm not familiar with the city yet, so I'll leave it to you to show me around." The chipper in your tone amuses Alastor; you'd perfected the art of illusion so well that in the clutches of what some might consider an intimate moment, you balked and reclaimed sensibility like it never occurred, though you wished for it to carry on further.

He'd met and spoken to his fair share of actors, learned their ticks and telling habits, and used it against them when he saw benefit in toying with them.

However, being able to see right through you evoked another motive for the host, and he dared to think it was mutual.

"Well, I'd be honored to show you the ins and outs of this lively town I call home so long as you promise to keep up," Alastor retrieves his coat, a heavy jet black trench withered accents paired with matching hat, stylish in all the right ways -presumably warm to be in. Still, you were sure if he ventured into the night dressed like that, any stranger would fear him.

They had good reason to, but you didn't need to know why.

Not yet…

With a coy smile, you followed Alastor out of the station, matching his strides as he paved the way to a nearby speakeasy, "You'll find it quite entertaining, my friend. Few visit at this hour, but my dear Mimzy puts on a vine show regardless!" Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Alastor being infatuated with another, for what reason you weren't sure, but your disappointment flashed clear in your eyes that he took it upon himself to clarify his remark.

"She is an old and loyal acquaintance. Nothing more. Nothing less."

You perked up at the explanation, face burning with a blush as you raised both hands to dissuade his interpretation of your expression, "I understand. You needn't explain anything to me-"

Alastor halted in his tracks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he peered at you curiously, "Hm, so you did assume we were something to begin with?..."

Shit, was I that obvious?...

"Not at all..." you lie, as calm as ever but internally conflicted.

How could he go about messing with you so boldly?..

And why did it excite you?..

"Your eyes say otherwise, my friend..." he counters your nervous reply with a smug smirk, beginning to walk off as if he wasn't toying with your head, "My eyes?..." you whisper in response.

"They are the doorway to the soul...I've learned to walk through said doors, and you, my dear, hide a lot of fears behind them." Alastor chuckles, ears tingling as you reclaim your spot at his upon reaching your destination. Still, you're less concerned with the dark alley lit with a singular neon sign situated above a heavy lead door and more worried about what he is implying regarding your emotions.

Who was he to know anything?

Sure, he was pleasant to be around, an avid intellectual with a knack for continuing conversation with you, and you had no reason to believe he'd been faking his friendliness to you from the start...

That still gave him no right analyzing you, prod at your exterior with more confidence than necessary, and you intended to let him know it.

A glare beset your expression, mouth open to speak, but you weren't allowed to do so as the lead door swung open.

Alastor guided you close to his side as a gaggle of patrons spilled from the doorway, ranting and raving about the time they had inside. Their rowdy behavior irked him, but you did not comment on the matter as he placed a hand on your back to lead you inside after their dysfunctional departure.

“Drunken idiots,” he mumbled begrudgingly, and for the first time you'd seen the radio host truly bothered. He'd been so composed during your interview, inviting and flirtatious on and off the air, so getting a glimpse of his annoyed state felt like a treat.

At least you knew he had flaws, insignificant but telling ones.

“Um. Alastor, you can..” you paused, unsure if you wanted to let him know he was still holding onto your waist as he led you inside the dim speakeasy. Alastor hummed, irritation gone, and his coy smile widening as you shuffled alongside him. “Y-you can let me go now.”

“Oh, nonsense, my dear! I wouldn't want you to run into unsavory characters like the ones that just passed..”

He quickly navigated the lingering crowd, clearly familiar with the club's layout, and you marbled at its unique atmosphere as he led you through it. “I can handle myself, Alastor,” you tried again to reason, but Alastor was quick to give a response as he ushered you to sit at an unoccupied lounge chair complete with a table and lamp.

“I'm sure you can but I'm rather fond of keeping you close.” He sat next to you after setting his coat and hat aside.

What did he mean by that?..

“How selfish of you,” you feigned disappointment as he shifted to face you with a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Would you be so kind as to forgive my greed for your attention?” Alastor stares you down, noting how you bite your lip, another nervous tick you'd yet to disregard in his presence. “I'll consider it if you buy me a drink or two..”

The suggestion was meant to sound confident, unmothered by the mounting pressure in your chest, but it came out breathless. You were sure that you'd mastered the art of indiffenece, permanently established a mask of charm, but as much as you wished to maintain the certainty…

Alastair disproved it with little more than a gesture or equally compelling word.

It was unsettling, intoxicating too, but undeniably riveting.

“A small price to pay,” he mumbled, eyes lowering to your lips as you laughed softly and leaned back to admire the other patrons roaming or dancing around. “I never said I was cheap..” you taste him, gaze drifting to him as he shifted closer. You wanted to jump out of your skin as his arm came to rest behind you, head lulling to ward your cheek as he breathed into your ear. The resulting warmth made you shiver, quickening your breaths, and your body tingled with intrigue.

“No…” Alastor affirmed your jest, free hand raising your chin, tilting your head to face him as he continued, “…but you are desperate to be loved. One might say that's just as inappropriate, mon Cher..”

His tone dripped with condensation, a sensual purr loud enough to drown out the jazz and chatter surrounding you, and for a moment, he was all you could comprehend.

You should've felt angry, unsettled even, but his words struck a more profound emotion.

Comfort.

You weren't crazy, a constant wonder for the masses to marvel at and never care about.

Alastor could see you.

He wanted to…

“And so what if I am? Why would it concern you?..” there was no harsh undertone to your question, and it earned a sultry hum of amusement from him. “You've interested me, so I must not ignore your charade. I'm partial to the truth of a person, and you, my dear, abandon it in the hopes of success..”

Spot on.

It is shamelessly hurtful but direct nonetheless.

You clicked your tongue dismissively, attempting to turn your head away from his grasp, but Alastor held you tighter.

A glare crossed your face at the brushing grip he established, but a pool of excitement rushed to your crotch as well.

“I'm not one of your scripts to read, Alastor..” you scoff, rolling your eyes to make your point clear, but he isn't affected by the arrogant gesture.

“My apologies if it seems that way, but my intention to know you, inside and out, is purely innocent...”

“I find that hard to believe…” you retort, very aware of the minimal space between you two, and it became harder to focus on anything else but his soft lips that were stretched thin into a smile.

God, I was doomed from the beginning… you think to yourself as you laugh at your shameless line of sight. “Believe what you wish, my friend, but I enjoy being the object of affection..”

“That's inappropriate to suggest,” you mutter, face burning with blush and your hands raising to grip his wrist and collar. Alastor hummed, amused by your denial, “Mm, I suppose it is…would you like another apology?”

You shake your head, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt, eyes lifting to his, full of determination, “A kiss will do just fine…”

He holds your gaze, checking for mockery, but there is none. “That's the first honest thing you've said all night, mon cher,” Alastor points out in a hushed tone, lowering his head to place a slow kiss on your lips as they pull into a satisfied smile.

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I rewatched Heartstopper for this. Was it helpful? Yes. Did it make me cry harder than the first time I watched it? Also, yes. Will I forever love that show?… (yes). Again, this is just part 1! The second half is being drafted. Please look forward to it. I'm not sure it'll include smut…but I'll debate on that later.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so cheekyyyy but I love him for it hehe like he’s just the right amount of ‘cocky asshole’ ya know? ❤️ credit to creator!

[jishyucks]

Gloves & Dittany ‣ cyj

‣ pairing: slytherin!yeonjun x gryffindor!reader

‣ genre: fluff, hogwarts!au, idiots-to-lovers (on reader’s part), sorta slice-of-life

‣ wc: 13.7k

‣ summary: ❝Sure, your heart might have skipped a beat or two because of Yeonjun, but it was just a momentary flutter, a reaction that didn't hold any significant meaning… Right?❞

↳ Alternatively, where Yeonjun’s flirtatious nature leaves you no choice but to doubt his evident feelings for you and, in turn, dismiss any emotions you may be developing for him

‣warnings?: reader is just,,, confused all the time, prob poor attempts of 'flirting' bc idk how to flirt, side characters may potentially be more entertaining than the mains, reader tends to make playful threats to their friends

‣ an: big thanks to @hoonieji (<3) for reading over more than half of this to build my confidence! anyways the amount of revising this went through is horrifying but I hope it was all worth it! it's so bittersweet that I finished this bc I enjoyed writing it :( I'm going to miss this pair a lot,,, anyways, hope you all enjoy!

‣tags: @flowerjun @forever-in-the-sky2 @yxnjvnnie @cookiehaos @ioveastera @yeonyeonyeonjun @fireheaurt @agustdiv1ne — couldn't tag @shwizhies

I. HEARTS IN HERBOLOGY

Over the years you've spent at Hogwarts, your love for Herbology has blossomed into a deep passion. Contrary to what your peers say about the class being boring and useless, you believe they couldn't be more wrong. Herbology is an underrated and misunderstood subject that offers unique elements not found in other classes.

At first glance, certain plants looked welcoming, but from what you’ve learned, the most attractive herbs can be the most deadliest. This could even work the other way around. Growth patterns of the plants can directly affect its magical properties, which explains why the professors created emphasis on the care for plants. 

Although Herbology looked like any other ordinary subject at Hogwarts, there were a lot more layers to its content. You suppose this was the reason why you grew to love the subject.

“What’s the difference between you and those flowers over there?”

Enter Choi Yeonjun. The main reason why advanced Herbology isn't the perfect class for you, and you mean that in the kindest way possible. Yeonjun is something else. While you hope to simply enjoy the class, he sees it as an opportunity to engage in endless conversation. You once joked with him that his voice could win a competition against a mandrake for being the most ear-piercing, but, surprisingly, he took no offense to this. 

To make matters worse, a significant portion of his chatter is dedicated to shamelessly flirting with you. Despite months of this routine, he always finds new ways to keep things interesting, and you have to admit, it's quite impressive.

It was strange how all this had even started. You and Yeonjun were only familiar with each other because he was childhood friends with your fellow house member, Changbin. But after an encounter with the pair at Hogsmeade, Yeonjun started becoming quite adamant about making his presence known to you. And regardless of his motives and advances, you’ve, since then, been choosing not to indulge in his actions.

If you were given a knut every time someone asked you why you never gave him a chance, you’d be rich. Hell, you’d be bathing in galleons if you did, because this was Choi Yeonjun we were talking about. The one and only Choi Yeonjun who could practically steal hearts without the use of some silly charm pulled straight out of a textbook. He was reasonably one of the most attractive guys in the entirety of Hogwarts and his personality was one to adore, so you weren’t surprised with the persistent interrogation of those interested in him.

Though every question was worded differently, each one becoming more and more creative than the last, you hit them with the same, lazy explanation that you knew never left them satisfied.

“I just don’t see him in that way.” 

Yeonjun stands by your side, hands comfortably nestled in gloves, which completely disregards Professor Longbottom's instructions that the gloves were not necessary for today's class. He looked ridiculous being the only one wearing the heavy-duty gloves. You hold back a laugh as your gaze follows his pointing finger, which leads you to a cluster of asphodels.

You look up at him, “One is an accessory to a deadly sleeping potion.” You’re cleaning up your area, making sure dirt is only where it was supposed to be. 

“Y/N, c’mon~” Yeonjun whines, “Just play along.”

“Okay,” you huff, “What is it?” 

Yeonjun stands quietly for a short moment, lips pressed together, “Now you made me forget what I was going to say, but it was something about you being pretty.” Yeonjun turns to put some pots away, leaving you unamused.

Although Yeonjun continues to make such advances, you admit that his playful personality was endearing. Just a few months ago, you regarded Yeonjun as nothing more than an annoyance, constantly looming around even when unwelcome, sort of like a wedgie. However, as time passed, you couldn't deny the odd bond that had formed between the two of you. 

Just recently, you had reluctantly admitted to yourself that he’s grown on you to the point where you realize that the day would feel incomplete without his babbling. On a good day, you might even consider him your friend.

When Yeonjun returns, he flashes you a smile, “Do you have any plans for the weekend? Maybe I can take you to Hogsmeade.” He bends down slightly and reaches out, “You have a bit of dirt on your nose.” You feel his finger graze your nose for a quick second before it’s back at his side. 

“I’m afraid I already do,” you hummed. Since the period has ended, you grab your belongings and take your leave. With no surprise, Yeonjun is trailing closely behind you. 

Yeonjun’s lips were moulded into some sort of pout, brows furrowed, “Maybe the week after?” 

“I have plans that week, too,” you say promptly, though you weren’t even entirely sure if you did, “Sorry, Yeonjun.” 

Yeonjun narrows his eyes at you but you don’t catch him doing so. Instead, you’re dead set on finding your best friend Yena by the courtyard. Before Yeonjun could let out a sigh, he takes a big step forward and spins so that he’s facing you. Yeonjun executes this with ease. He’s quick on his feet and the next thing you know you’re walking into his chest. 

“Don’t apologize.” Yeonjun grabs your wrist and swiftly pulls you to the edge of the hallway so you both aren't blocking the stream of students, “There’s always another week…” He pushes his lips towards one side of his face, eyes looking to the side. He was deep in thought, “Maybe you can come to the final game of the season? I know your house isn’t playing but it would be nice to have the support… I’ll even let you wear one of my extra uniforms… maybe some facepaint?” Yeonjun’s eyes light up at the thought. 

“Yeonjun,” you say sternly. 

“As a friend?” Yeonjun’s head is tilted to the side, brows knitting as he brings his lips into a pout, “Please?” His eyes pour into yours, making it hard for you to avoid his gaze. He’s waiting intently on a reply. 

“I’ll… think about it,” You stall. 

Yeonjun smiles, satisfied with your answer. Before he speaks up once again, he hears his name being called from across the hall. It was Wooyoung. 

“I’ll see you later, beautiful~” 

You groan and call out before you’re out of ear’s reach, “What did I tell you about pet names, Choi Yeonjun!” 

Yeonjun turns to acknowledge you, but instead of saying anything to excuse himself, he sends you a wink before reaching his friend. 

As expected.

You huff, shaking your head before you finally turn to the courtyard, where you immediately see Yena kicking dirt underneath one of the smaller trees. She pulls up her robe slightly, engrossed in watching the dirt particles defy gravity and form swirling clouds.

You say nothing as you approach her, laughing underneath your breath. 

“You took so long I started growing white hair,” Yena jokes. She drops her robe and stands up a bit straighter, “Where to?” 

When Yena finally catches a glimpse of your face, her brows furrow, “What’s wrong?” She leans forward to analyze your expression, eyes running back and forth across your face. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, “Let’s start heading for the hall.” 

Yena clicks her tongue against her teeth and grabs your wrist, “I’m not stupid, you know. I can easily tell that something’s up. So, what’s up?”

“The sky,” you say wittingly. Yena gives you her stern, rather motherly, look, causing you to break immediately, “Yeonjun asked me to ‘hang out’ again.” 

Her eyes widen, brightening, as a smile appears on her face. 

The thing about Yena is that, despite understanding that you genuinely do not have feelings for Yeonjun, she still clung onto that ship for dear life. It was quite amusing watching her squeal over the smallest interactions between you both. You could say she was more delusional than Yeonjun was.

“Please tell me you said yes!”

“Well… I didn’t say no?” You look over at her, “I just told him I would think about it.”

“Progression!” She exclaims, “Character development!”

“Oh, shut your mouth,” you groan. You look around to make sure no one associated with Yeonjun was around, “I don’t even think he’s being serious.”

You and Yena are nearing the great hall and the smell of food is drifting out the big wooden doors and up your noses. You both are walking rather slowly, moving to the edge of the corridors to keep out of the other students’ ways, “Why would you think that? From how long he’s been at it, he seems rather serious about this.”

“Yen…” you sigh, “Have you seen the way he interacts with other people, better yet, girls? I don’t want to give him a chance because it already seems like he’s just doing this for fun. I don’t wanna be… sought after for entertainment.”

Yena throws an arm around your shoulders, “If you think that, then tell him you can’t go. Simple.”

“The Choi Yena telling me not to hang out with Yeonjun?” You scoff, “Please.” 

“I’m actually giving you helpful, wise advice and this is what I get?” Yena huffs, “Fine. What I really wanted to say is that you should give him a chance. Who knows, he can actually be serious about you and you might end up liking him back.” 

You shake your head, "Not until I know he has genuine feelings for me. Besides, I would have given it a shot if I had as little as a single cell in me that was interested in him. But, as you already know, I don’t.”

Yena eyes you down as if it were going to knock the honest truth out of you. But it doesn’t, because you were telling the truth. You have no feelings for Choi Yeonjun. 

“Now let’s go eat,” you grumble, “Because you say the most unpleasant things when you’re hungry.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

When Yeonjun reaches Wooyoung, he’s greeted with a big fat thwack to the back of the head. 

“Ow!” Yeonjun jumps, rubbing the area that the other had smacked, “What in Merlin’s name was that for?” The two begin making their way down the corridor, keeping a look out for Changbin who they should be crossing paths with sometime soon.

“For being a lovesick fool,” Wooyoung shoots, “Get yourself together!” He slaps Yeonjun’s back, “Why are you wasting time over someone who clearly doesn’t like you back when you can literally be with anyone else you want?”

Though Yeonjun knows that Wooyoung means well, he can't help but feel a twinge of offense at his friend's statement. He could go on about the reasons why he’s still trying, but he knows for certain that Wooyoung could not care less. 

Frankly, when Yeonjun sets a goal for himself, there is no doubt he’ll be working towards that goal with no uncertainties. And this trait easily applies to this situation. 

Yeonjun really likes you. 

Sure, he doesn’t know the tiniest, intricate details about you, but based on what he’s heard through Changbin and things he’s learned while talking to you in class, he has this rather strong urge to get to know you better. 

And he’s serious about this.

At a loss for words, Yeonjun blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “She’s different.”

Wooyoung blinks back at his friend, “You better not be serious.”

“I’m just summing things up, Wooyoungie,” Yeonjun flicks Wooyoung’s shoulder, “I don’t take you as a guy who likes hearing things about feelings.”

“True that,” Changbin butts in. He slides in from a nearby classroom, briefly greeting the other two wizards.

Wooyoung glares at Changbin, “Do you even know what we were talking about?” 

“Yes,” Changbin shrugs, “Y/N. Yeonjun. Who else?”

Wooyoung hums, “And you support Yeonjun making a fool out of himself?” 

Before Yeonjun can shoot a remark at Wooyoung, Changbin quickly interjects, “Well, no, but I just want to see where it goes. Plus, Y/N didn’t explicitly say she didn’t like Yeonjun.”

“Wait, really?” No one notices but Yeonjun’s eyes light up at the information.

Changbin nods, “I mean to me at least. And you’d think she would tell me because you and I are friends. She just says that she has her own reasons or something.”

Yeonjun smiles to himself. That’s all he needed to know.

II. DOUBTS AND DUNDERHEADS

Yena’s reading the ingredients of a newly learned potion as you scan over the list yourself. 

“You know, I don’t get why we’re even making this potion,” Yena grumbles. As you prepare the cauldron, Yena leaves the table to grab the ingredients, plopping them down carefully in an organized manner, “It’s much more dangerous than Amortentia, don’t you think?” 

“I can see why you think that,” you chuckle under your breath. You eye the ingredients that Yena has set down, using your finger to track each one of them, “You forgot the moondew.” But seeing that your friend had already settled in her chair, you took it upon yourself to grab the plant at the bench at the back of the room. 

“Moondew… moondew…” you mumble. You look around for the plant, shuffling back and forth in hopes of it catching your eye, “Where are you?” 

Before you know it, the herb is being dangled right in your line of sight, causing your eyes to cross for a brief second, “Here you go~” Your eyes flicker up and you immediately spot the green lining of the sleeve.

You reach up to take it from him before turning around, “Thanks.” Yeonjun was standing rather close to you, though it wasn’t a creepy proximity. He’s just… tall. So to him you could guess that the distance between you both wasn’t as close as it was for you. 

“Anything for you,” he hums and sends a smile and a wink your way.

You groan and shoot him a look, walking right past him, “Choi Yeonjun, is this your way of asking for me to give you this potion?”

He feigns hurt, “No. And even if it was, I know you wouldn’t do it.” Yeonjun follows you to your bench and you see that Yena’s placing the ingredients in order of which to drop in first. She smirks at his presence. 

“And how would you know I wouldn’t?” 

“I don’t know actually,” he shrugs, jutting his lip out in a pout. Yeonjun takes a step back to his bench, which was conveniently the one next to yours and Yena’s, before he continues, “I just feel like you wouldn’t.”

You furrow your brows right as Yena adds wormwood infusion into the cauldron. Your nose crinkles, “If I were you, I wouldn’t trust your gut.” 

Yeonjun mindlessly takes the same step, gesturing for Wooyoung to go ahead with the next step, “I have a good intuition!” Yeonjun sounds like he’s genuinely trying to convince you of his secret powers. 

“Well, okay, what number am I thinking of?” You add the asphodel into the cauldron before turning to look at Yeonjun. From the way his eyes were looking off to the ceiling, lips resting into a pout, you can tell he’s thinking.

“Eight.”

“Wrong, it was two.”

“Hey, you could have easily changed the answer!” Yeonjun exclaims, giving you the accusatory finger, “Cheater.”

“I thought your intuition was good,” you say, “Doesn't your intuition say something about if I really did cheat or not?” You make sure Yena’s stirring the mixture the way the textbook had instructed. She even went ahead to plop the sloth’s brain into the pot. 

Then your professor speaks up, “Remember, students, that the hardest part of this potion is the stirring, please please pay attention to the stirring patterns.”

The entirety of your attention is brought back to your cauldron, you and Yena taking turns adding the needed components of the potion before preparing yourselves for the stirring. Meanwhile, Wooyoung and Yeonjun have already started stirring the mixture. 

“Counter… counter… clockwise…” Wooyoung says slowly, making sure that Yeonjun’s stirring in the same direction as he instructed. When Wooyoung realizes that he’s on the other side of the table, he gasps, “Wait, that’s my counter, counter, clockwise!” 

Yeonjun’s eyes widen before stirring the mixture the other way as if it would cancel out the stirs that he’s already completed. Then it dawned on him, “You dunce! It’s the same for you and me—”

And right as Yeonjun finishes his sentence, the mixed elements burst onto Yeonjun, leaving him covered in an odd-coloured substance. 

Screams of surprise echo through the room before the same individuals burst into laughter, seeing that Yeonjun was now drenched and filthy. Yena was laughing out loud, fingers gripping the edge of the table to keep herself stable. You were trying your best not to laugh out loud, pressing your lips together to hide the growing smile on your face.

When the situation finally clicks, Yeonjun knocks himself out of his state of shock, using his own robe to wipe the substance off of his face. It was sticky, so there was a good amount of resistance keeping him from successfully cleaning himself up. 

Now you feel bad. 

You watch Yeonjun for a few moments to see if he truly needed help. But when you realized that he was practically hopeless on his own, you sighed and stood up, grabbing the boy by the wrist, “Professor, may we be excused? We will be back before class ends.” 

He nods, allowing you both to leave. And at that, you’re dragging the long-limbed Slytherin out the door of the classroom. You take him down the stone corridor and towards the girls’ washroom. Your steps echo against the walls of the hallway as you fast-walk towards the end of the hall. Once you reach it, you sit Yeonjun down on a nearby window ledge, “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

Yeonjun nods, making himself comfortable. He watches you leave and disappear into the bathroom for a good thirty seconds before you return with one hand full of wet paper towels and the other with dry ones. 

You start wiping off the gunk from the boy’s face, starting at his forehead and working your way down his face. You're half an arm’s length away from the boy, still trying to keep distance. You’re surprised at how easily the potion slides off his face with the help of water. 

“I thought you were good at potions,” you grumble, “Next time you need to be careful… you’re lucky that the potion doesn’t get absorbed into skin because this situation could have been worse…” You continue scolding him under your breath, but it was so quiet that even the closeness between you doesn’t allow Yeonjun to hear what you’re saying. 

You don’t notice the way Yeonjun is looking at you. His eyes are crossing just to catch a proper glimpse of your focused state, flickering between your lashes to your cheeks, and your lips… He mentally shakes his head to rid of all thoughts clouding his head, squeezing his eyes.

“You know, I don’t need help to clean myself up,” Yeonjun says, but his expression completely contradicts his words as he grins at your actions. 

You freeze and take a step back to reassess the situation, “You’re right.” You hold the paper towels out to him, “Here.”

“Wait, but I do need help.”

You sigh and start wiping the remaining stuff off of his face, “You’re a dunderhead, you know that right?” You put pressure onto his cheek bone for a moment and plaster a playful smile on your mouth.

Yeonjun snickers, “Yeah, a dunderhead for you.”

Your smile drops from your lips and you frown, “Oh, shut up.” His face was basically clean from the potion. All that’s left was the dried liquid in his hair and some lingering on his robe. 

“It’s true,” Yeonjun sighs. He wonders why you’re so against him and his advances. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong to you. You haven’t even given him a chance.

You roll your eyes and attempt to scrape off the dried up potion that was clinging on to his hair, “I’m guessing you’re a dunderhead for Chaewon and her friends too.” There’s a slight tone of passive aggressiveness in your voice but you don’t notice. 

“What do you mean?” Yeonjun’s ears perk up, genuinely confused.

You let the question sit, finding the appropriate way to explain to Yeonjun what you meant. It was a difficult thing to put simply and you and Yeonjun were currently bound by time. 

“Yeonjun I…” your eyes search Yeonjun’s as if he could physically hand you the help you needed, “I don’t believe you actually like me.” You almost cringe because it sounded as though you were accusing him of lying, but this was truly how you felt. 

Yeonjun’s eyes widened, “W-what? Why do you think th—”

“You flirt with me—a lot—but you flirt with other people too,” you explain, “One second you’re calling me pretty and treating me nice and everything that, I admit, someone who likes that person would do… but the next you’re doing practically the same things for another person… How am I supposed to believe that you like me?” 

Not that it mattered—you didn’t even have feelings for the boy—but it was good that he knew for someone he actually was interested in. 

Yeonjun is taken aback by the confession. Is this how you felt the whole time? Is this why you haven’t actually given him the chance to take you out? “How can I prove to you that I’m serious?”

“You’re an expert at flirting, aren’t you?” you retort, “I’m pretty sure you can figure that out yourself.”

III. A SLYTHERIN’S EFFORT

After confronting the Slytherin about your feelings towards him and his actions, there was a period of complete silence over the following days. It was like radio silence—as if something had gone wrong with the antenna and you were forced to scramble to fix it. Encounters with him in the halls or in class were kept minimal by the boy, only going as far as saying a hi and goodbye before going on his merry way. 

Judging from his actions, you took it as a confirmation that Yeonjun really didn’t have feelings for you. This realization evoked mixed emotions within you. Sure, you’re glad that you got him off your back, having the peace and quiet in herbology that you used to have. But you’d be lying if you said that you wished that Yeonjun would still speak every once in a while to fill that silence. 

It was odd if you think about it. Why did Yeonjun even ask how he could prove his feelings for you if those feelings were non-existent? Was that just part of the ‘fun’? An attempt to get your hopes up before stopping altogether?

Ouch, you think, shaking your head to get rid of these thoughts from your head. If Yeonjun didn’t actually like you, he could’ve just said so. But hey, you should be ecstatic that he's finally done with this whole act, right? 

At least he’s making it easy on you.

That is until Yeonjun came unannounced to the Gryffindor table one morning. He, surprisingly, did not don the smirk he often wore on his lips. Instead, his lips were curved into a gentle smile, his eyes mirroring the same warmth. 

“Morning, Lions,” he greets.

“Changbin’s still at the dorms,” you mumble, dipping your head to sip on your soup. 

Yeonjun shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter. I’m here for you.” He held out a small, white plastic bag toward you. It was full, but you weren’t quite sure with what. 

You guess that Yeonjun read the confusion on your face, quickly following up his disorderly actions with, “My mom usually sends snacks and I asked her to send these for you.” You hear Yena almost choke on her food, but she shuts herself up by downing water.

Odd. “Oh… thank you?” You’re not even sure how to act, reaching out for the bag before sticking your nose into it to catch a glimpse of the aforementioned snacks. And funny enough, this is what catches you off-guard.

They were your favourite snacks—ones you couldn’t get here or at Hogsmeade.

“How did you know I liked these?” Yeonjun warms up at the way your eyes light up. You look up at him and thank him again. 

Yeonjun shrugs, “You might have mentioned them a few times during herbology. Anyways, I gotta go back to the table. But I hope you enjoy those!” 

“I will,” you say mostly to yourself. You set the bag on your lap and stare at it, puzzled. 

“Ooo—”

You clamp your mouth over Yena’s mouth and side-eye her, “Shut your mouth right now or else I’m lodging a breadstick down your throat.”

Yena’s eyes widen but she grabs your hand and peels it off her face. She whispers, “I thought you said Yeonjun didn’t like you.” You nod, “I did but… No. I don’t think this means anything.” 

“Are you crazy?” Yena’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her head, “He remembers what you’ve told him and he’s asked his own mother to send you these!”

You don’t look at Yena because she’s right. The process into actually pulling this off is… sweet. And thoughtful. 

With a dismissive shake of your head, your gaze falls on the closest person, who happens to be Soobin, “Binnie, can you please pass the breadsticks?”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Why do you like herbology?”

The question causes you to freeze, gloved-fingers stuck in the dirt when you try to process Yeonjun’s question of the day. When you look over at him, you realize he wasn’t even looking back at you. Instead, he was fiddling with the herbology textbook sitting on the table, flipping back and forth between the pages of today’s lesson.

You let out a sputtered "Huh?" as your head tilts to the side in confusion. The question seemed to have come out of nowhere, leaving you uncertain whether it was asked out of genuine curiosity or sheer boredom. 

“I never really asked you why you liked the class so much,” Yeonjun takes a quick glance at you through the corner of his eye, “I mean well. I genuinely want to know.” 

You wanted to continue questioning what was going on. First the snacks and now this? 

Was Yeonjun broken?

Your mouth had opened just a bit in preparation to interrogate the boy, but since he had made it clear that he was being serious, you shut your mouth before mustering up an answer. 

“There’s just something… interesting in the fact that all the plants we deal with can be used to create things that can either benefit or create drawbacks to a person’s life. Others have such useless purposes, too, but I still find it captivating that plants can do things you could hardly expect… Like mandrakes. They’re god-awfully annoying, but they can help heal curses and stuff.

“Then there’s dittany… I think it’s easily one of my favourites. They can help heal wounds easily so they come in handy in a lot of situations… like my grandma’s created her own ointment recipe with dittany and it’s done wonders in my family. I guess the main reason I like herbology is the idea that we can somehow use these things to help people. That’s what I prefer, at least.”

When you finished speaking, you realized that you have never said that out loud to anyone before. It was something that never came up in conversation—a topic you knew no one cared about—yet here you are blabbing on to Choi Yeonjun about your love for the subject.

“Wow, when you put it that way, herbology does sound cool.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him, “You’re saying that as if you’re not in an advanced class right now.”

The softest grin appears on Yeonjun’s face as he pushes his textbook away from him, “I know. But herbology isn't the main reason I’m here.”

“Then, what are you doing here?”

“For you.” 

The corners of your lips lift at the brief appearance of the playful Yeonjun you were familiar with. Of course, you think. 

Before you could even question further, Professor Longbottom launched into another rant about the day's lesson, drawing your attention away from the strange, indescribable sensation that was slowly taking over your heart.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You were on your way back to the hall for dinner having taken a stroll around the castle grounds after a nap. With workload becoming heavier and days growing shorter due to the time of year, you were hoping to clear your mind while sightseeing.

You couldn’t say it worked, though. 

All your mind could do was wander back to the topic of the upcoming defense of the dark arts exam, the feeling of anxiety continues to creep up your neck despite the efforts to get rid of them. The subject was not one of your strengths, as your strong distaste for dueling led to a lack of effort in the class.

Now that a practical assessment was coming up, you weren’t sure how you were going to do… and frankly you didn’t like doing horribly in your classes. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

You gasp quietly at the sudden presence of Yeonjun, who’s wearing an odd combination of his quidditch uniform and training attire. In his hand he’s holding his broomstick. By the looks of it, he just came from quidditch practice.

"I don't think it matters that much," you let out a lackluster, breathy chuckle and continue walking towards the castle. Yeonjun adjusts his pace to match yours, even though his long limbs seem eager to move faster.

“That look on your face says otherwise,” he shrugs, “But, do not worry, you still look as pretty as always.”

You stop in your tracks and glare at the boy, who halts two steps too late.

“What?” Yeonjun questions, “It’s true.” He recognizes a specific glint in your eyes and Yeonjun realizes that this was not the time to be flirting, “In all seriousness, though, what’s wrong?”

Yeonjun takes you by surprise once again and you almost stumble in your steps from his efforts. It was nice to see that Yeonjun did have this side of him. While you've grown fond of his playful personality, it's refreshing to witness him in a different light. 

You think about what you want to say to Yeonjun. “I think it’ll help more if you just tell me about your day,” you tell him. You needed distraction from the near-overbearing stress that you’re experiencing. In hindsight, you realized that taking a stroll alone may have been a mistake. Being left alone with your thoughts was never a favourable situation for you or for anyone.

Yeonjun immediately understands the situation, and before you know it, no questions asked, he begins to tell you all about his quidditch practice.

Yeonjun’s position was the team’s beater, so he spent the entire practice with his fellow house member, Jongho, who was also a beater, hitting bludgers back and forth to get used to what strength they needed to exert to send it going any way they wanted. 

“We were just hitting it back and forth,” he says, “Like we always do. But this time, we decided to use our non-dominant hands to hit them.” Yeonjun swings his left arm as he continues, “And, you see, Jongho’s left handed so we made this a competition between just the two of us to see who was better with their other arm.

“So we went back and forth. It was hard at first, but he and I started getting… cocky about how I was doing better. It was actually terrifying because, you know, the rest of the team was just there… they could easily have been hit and all. But since, we’re the best beaters in this entire school—” Yeonjun sends a prideful smile your way and you can’t help but scoff, “—we didn’t let that happen–”

“Until?” you butt in.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened, “I can’t believe you think there’s an ‘until.’ 

“Am I wrong?” 

Then, Yeonjun's eyes narrow and he tightens his lips into a thin line. "You're lucky you're cute..." he remarks, reaching out to poke your cheek. Surprisingly, you let him do it. "Anyways," he continues, "That was until we remembered that we also have a coach... guess who's at the infirmary with a bruise as big as a crab apple?"

You gasp, “I thought you guys were Hogwarts’ best beaters?”

Yeonjun exclaims, “We are!”

“Then why is your coach in the infirmary?” 

“Accidents happen!” Yeonjun defends himself, “He’s alright, though. The nurse says he’s going to be back in shape by tomorrow.” 

The conversation turned out to be much more enjoyable than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, you were already approaching the doors of the hall. You could see other students trickling in, and your eyes instantly caught sight of Yena through the doors.

“That’s good to hear,” you stifle a laugh, “Anyways, I gotta go, I’m starving.” 

As you’re turning to leave, you’re stopped by Yeonjun, who has reached out to grab your wrist, “I hope your problems will be resolved soon.”

A warm feeling tickles your chest and you let a genuine smile appear on your lips, “Thanks, Yeonjun.”

With that, you give him a small wave and head inside the hall to join Yena and the other students for dinner, feeling more at ease than before.

IV. THE GLOVES

If given the chance to describe your best friend in one word, you’d say spontaneous. Since the day you met her, she has the habit of making a decision in one moment and then completely changing course in the next. It was a trait of her’s that you found rather impressive, because you could never live your life like that. But despite being impressed, it's still hard to deny that it doesn’t occasionally frustrate you.

Last night, Yena was determined to study for the upcoming dark arts exam over the weekend—you even agreed to study with her (which wasn’t the best option on your end)—but upon waking up at right at noon, she’s decided to give up on this goal and, instead, take an impromptu trip to Hogsmeade. What’s worse was that she’s dragging you along with her, practically giving you no choice but to tag along. 

Although you had no plans for the weekend but to begin studying, you were planning on staying in the dorms because temperatures were dropping to an uncomfortable low. You were in no mood to visit Hogsmeade since it did take a great deal of walking to get around. But since Yena would not shut up until you agreed to come, you were now digging through your trunk, trying to find the pair of gloves you swear you packed. 

“Y/N, make haste!” Yena exclaims from downstairs, “Time is ticking!”

“If you keep speaking like we’re in the nineteenth century, I will not make haste,” you yell back. There’s a sudden urge to bang your head against your trunk. Your gloves were nowhere to be seen and now you have to accept the fact that Jack’s going to be nipping your fingertips during the entire trip. 

Slamming the trunk shut, you let out a deep huff and pull your coat sleeves down over your hands. 

This will have to do.

Yena makes a beeline for Honeydukes the second you make it onto Hogsmeade grounds. She’s hauling you along with her, and you do nothing to protest.

“My supply of jelly slugs are dwindling,” she mutters, throwing the door open before stepping foot inside. The warmth is comforting, especially since the two of you had been walking in the cold for the past 20 minutes, “Changbin took two packs because apparently I owed him.”

You look at her, “Why did you even give them if you weren’t even sure?” Yena’s arms are filled with jelly slug packages, cradling them as if she gave birth to them. 

She shrugs, “I was actually convinced I owed him until I thought about it.” She secures the sweets and looks over at you, “Don’t you want anything?” 

You scan the selection of candies and chocolates surrounding the both of you, “I suppose I can use some gum for studying.”

“Ooh, you’re right! Grab me a pack too, please!” She’s jutting her chin to gesture towards the pack of gum laid out on a nearby shelf, thanking you when you grab a pack for you both, “I’ll pay for it since I forced you to come with me.” 

You don’t protest again, “Fine by me.” 

Plopping all the sweets down onto the counter, you immediately see the look of horror on the employee’s face. You can read her mind—probably thinking that Yena was crazy. “I-is that all, sweetheart?” Yena nods and slides her a note before even waiting for the total. 

On your way out, she’s already ripped a pack open, snacking on the slugs, “Want one?” 

Before you can even reply, a male voice butts in, “Don’t mind if I do!” To accompany it, a hand slides in from your left and straight into Yena’s new bag of jelly slugs. This slightly startles the both of you, stumbling away from the new presence.

Yena groans, “Seo Changbin, you literally have the ones I gave you back at the dorms!” Yena tucks the candy into her sleeve and gives Changbin a crossed look—one that could kill. 

“Wait, I want one!” Wooyoung appears from behind Changbin, who’s closely followed by Yeonjun. Both boys have their chins tucked into their jackets, hands stuffed deep in their pockets, “May I please have one?”

Yeonjun waves at you, and though you couldn’t clearly see his mouth, you can tell he was smiling because it reaches his eyes. You wave back and you couldn’t help but mirror his expression.

Yena blinks for a quick moment, but then moves slowly to give the Slytherin a single slug, “Only cause you asked nicely… unlike someone over here.” She shoots Changbin another deadly glare before moving on, “What are you guys doing here?”

Wooyoung uses his thumb to point toward the castle, “We were just about to head back. You guys?”

Yena shrugs, “I’m about ninety-percent sure we were going to head back, too. Unless you have somewhere to go, Y/N?” Your best friend’s looking at you, waiting for a reply. 

“Oh, uh…” you shake your head, “No.”

Yeonjun beams, “That’s great! We can all walk back together?” 

You don’t notice the way Yena smirks before she agrees on behalf of the both of you, “Sure, why not?”

And before you know it, you find yourself walking alongside Yena and the boys, witnessing Changbin and Wooyoung playfully shoving each other off the path. Yeonjun takes long strides beside them, unsurprisingly condoning the play-fighting. Yena’s busy picking out specific jelly slugs from her bag, occasionally looking up to make sure she doesn’t stumble over a rock or tree root. 

“If you guys hit me, you’re getting hit back,” she mutters, attention still directed towards her sweets. 

Meanwhile, you’re freezing your arse off at the rear of the group. You feel the chill in the air seeping into your bones and you’re desperately blowing warm air into your hands in hopes that you won’t get frostbite. 

As the castle grows closer with each step, you feel the urge to break away from the group and sprint ahead, painfully longing for the warmth of the castle. Your hands are numb, and at this point, you’re afraid that you’re never going to get sensation back, even if you go as far as sticking your limbs into fire. 

The thought makes you panic. Sure it was a bit unrealistic, but still your mind rushes past a bajillion different thoughts that involve things you did with your hands. Herbology, crocheting, playing sports… what if you can’t do those anymo—

“Here.”

You blink to suck yourself back to reality, shaking your head to grasp how Yeonjun was now directly in front of you. His arm is extended, handing you something that you don’t quite recognize at first. After taking a closer look, you realize that he’s handing you over his own pair of gloves. 

“Huh?”

“Gloves.” 

“I know what they are,” you say softly, “But for what?”

“You’ve been breathing into your hands since we left Hogsmeade,” Yeonjun points out, “So put these on. I can take them back when we get to the castle.” He nudges the mittens towards you, urging you to take them. “Take them.”

You can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at the gesture. “I’m okay. Besides, you need them, too.” 

You attempt to walk around the boy but he stops you, "I don't want to see you freeze. It's either these gloves or... I hold your hands to warm them up." His voice trails off with a playful hint, and you can't help but feel your heart flutter at the thought. But as quick as the feeling came, you knock some sense back into your head before you hastily pluck the mits out of his hands. 

“Good,” he grins, patting your head through your toque. As you slide your hands into the gloves, you realize they're a bit too big for you, causing them to slip off easily. You ball your hands into fists and stick them into your pockets. Then Yeonjun asks, “Hey, have you thought about the game?” 

To be honest, the invitation had almost slipped your mind amidst the recent events. However, now you find yourself more open to the idea. But before you could confirm that you were willing to go, the yelling of both Wooyoung and Changbin interrupted your conversation.

Yeonjun apologizes and groans, making a beeline to the other two to calm them down. 

“I swear it wasn’t this far of a walk to Hogsmeade.” Your best friend stuffs her hands into her pockets and sinks her head behind the collar of her jacket. 

“No, I’m not carrying you to the castle,” Changbin looks like he turned his head 180 degrees to look back at Yena, but it was just his coat giving you the illusion.

“Who in bloody hell said I wanted to be carried by you,” Yena gags. She bends down to pick up the nearest pebble before chucking it at Changbin’s leg. The latter flinches, and again, his head spins to look at you both. He sends Yena a dirty look before maturely continuing on (mainly because Yeonjun already gave him a warning).

The five of you trek back to the school grounds in near silence, the exhaustion evident in your steps as the chilly weather envelopes the area. You wonder if Yena actually regrets going to Hogsmeade on such a gloomy day, but when you look over to check how she’s doing, she’s munching on the jelly slugs with a content expression. 

As the Slytherins break off, Wooyoung bids a simple "goodbye," forcefully dragging Yeonjun along with him. He knows damn well that Yeonjun’s going to spend an extra 10 minutes talking to you when all he wants is to get back to the dorms to take a nap. 

Wooyoung’s so quick to leave that the two disappear in the blink of an eye and you’re not given the chance to return Yeonjun’s mittens. Though, it was also on you for not remembering to give it back. 

Yena notices how you’ve slipped the mittens off and are now staring at the pair as if they hold some sort of enchantment. “And you still haven’t fallen for him yet?” Yena smirks, eyeing the item of clothing in your hand. 

“Gross, why would I?” Your face scrunches and you hold the gloves out to Changbin using your index and your thumb, “Take them. Give them back to him.”

“Please,” Yena scoffs, “Don’t lie, I know you’re all warm and fuzzy for Yeonjun.” Yena playfully pushes Changbin's arms away, preventing you from giving him the mittens, “And don’t give those to the poor boy. Return them yourself.” 

"Poor boy?" Changbin questions, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

You groan, “I’m not all ‘warm and fuzzy’ for Yeonjun.” You look down at the gloves in your hands, “Obviously, I like him better than before but my feelings for him aren’t romantic.” 

“Poor boy?” Changbin repeats, but seeing that you and Yena were absorbed in your own conversation, he gives up.

The three of you finally reach the portrait of the Fat Lady. Yena rolls her eyes, “Mmmhmm… it’s just a matter of time before you actually start liking him like that.” She mutters the password and soon, you’re making your way into the common room. It was miraculously empty. 

“What do you even mean by that?” 

Yena throws her head into her hand and palms her face, “My sweet, sweet Y/N… Think about it. Not too long ago, you were constantly complaining about Yeonjun and how irritating he was. Now you’ve just confessed that you like him better than before. Guess what the next stage is?”

“Best friends,” you answer, attempting to seem nonchalant about the subject. 

“You guys talk more than he and I do,” Changbin points out, snickering, “And we’re best friends.” Yena nods eagerly, gesturing to the boy as if he’s made a life-changing statement.

You shrug, “That doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” Yena speculates, “Can I point out that you were in a bad mood the four days Yeonjun barely spoke to you?” 

“I was in a bad mood because of the potions exam,” you justify, “And I have you as a partner.” 

“Okay, fair, but you have to admit it wasn’t all just because of that,” Yena pushes. 

“I won’t because it was all because of that,” you facepalm, “You’re just saying anything at this point.” “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel at least something after all those things that’s happened this week,” Yena remarks, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms in a challenging manner. 

“Things?” Changbin’s eyes grow wide, “What things?”

“They mean nothing,” you repeat, “Just… friendly random acts of kindness, which I do appreciate. Nothing wrong with it.”

“There’s also nothing wrong with admitting that you like him at least a smidge,” Yena frowns, “I know you’re a softie at heart, and I know there’s no way that you didn’t feel all warm and fuzzy at least once.”

As Yena continues to probe about your feelings for Yeonjun, your stubborn nature kicks in, and you find yourself reluctant to admit what she’s assuming. Sure, your heart might have skipped a beat or two because of Yeonjun, but it was just a momentary flutter, a reaction that doesn't hold any significant meaning.

Right?

Besides, you weren't ready to admit something to others that you hadn't fully come to terms with yourself. 

So you shake your head and deny, “Nope. Not once.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

If Yena saw how much of a fuss you were making over something as simple as returning Yeonjun's gloves, she would tease you relentlessly. So you figured that this would be a solo quest, one that required not being caught by Yena. 

You stand at the doors of the hall, gloves clutched in your hands as you try to search for the Slytherin. The hall was busier than you thought, but it wasn’t intimidating. You’re not even sure why you’re worried about this. You were simply handing the gloves back and telling him that you were going to the game as friends. It really didn’t mean anything.

A sense of relief washes over you when you spot Yeonjun fooling around with Wooyoung and Changbin in a relatively empty area. This means that you can get this over with. Hand them over, tell him, then you’re done. Simple. 

Working up the courage to do it, you slowly make your way down the long room, gripping the gloves tightly with one hand. When you’re near, it's Wooyoung who first catches sight of you since he happens to be facing your direction. He utters something that you couldn't quite make out, but it's accompanied by a gesture that catches the attention of Yeonjun and Changbin, prompting them to turn around.

Yeonjun lights up, which you only interpret as a smile, before he waves at you, “Y/N!” 

You don't know why you’re suddenly shy, feeling yourself shrink under the attention of Yeonjun. You grin back and give them all a small wave before you take small steps, “I forgot to return these the other day.” You hold it out to him. Your arm begins to shake at the slightest, so you steady it with your other arm.

“Did you really forget or did you want to keep them?” He teases, sending a wink before gently retrieving them. He thanks you. 

You feel your cheeks heat up and you shake your head, “I forgot to… if it weren’t for Wooyoung who dragged you away.” You give the other Slytherin a look, “And… before I leave, I didn’t get to tell you yesterday that—”

“Choi Yeonjun,” a female voice rudely interrupts your sentence. You’re slightly shoved to the side by another Slytherin who you were not familiar with (nor did you care), taking your place in front of Yeonjun. Changbin looks like he’s about to tell her off, giving you a sympathetic look. 

“Kim Hyunji,” Yeonjun greets, “What brings you here?” 

You start playing with the sleeves of your wool sweater, growing impatient despite the fact that the new presence has barely been there for a minute. The words being exchanged between Yeonjun and the girl soon turn into an unintelligible babble, leaving your mind unable to grasp their conversation. But judging by the way the girl grew gradually closer to Yeonjun, you didn’t need to know what was being said. The exchange goes on for a bit too long for your liking and you can feel your brows dropping to form a scowl.

As you recall the recent interactions with Yeonjun, you realize that amidst all of them, you forgot that Yeonjun was still the flirt that he was. Sure, it probably came naturally to him, but witnessing him flirt with another girl evokes a foreign feeling that tickles your chest. 

“I’ll see you there, then?” Yeonjun’s words are suddenly clear and you feel something tap your chest. 

“Of course I’ll be,” she replies, a smirk forming on her face as she turns to leave. 

The second she’s gone, Yeonjun turns back at you, eyes softening, “Sorry, Y/N, she tends to do that a lot… what were you saying?’

As if you’ve experienced an emotional whiplash, you freeze and lose the words that you previously practiced in your head. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 

What was happening?

“Y/N? Are you okay?” 

You swallow nervously and, in a hushed voice, you say, "I-it can wait." Without wasting a moment, you swiftly leave the room, your hand instinctively moving to your head as you try to make sense of your confusion.

Finding the nearest bench outside of the hall, you sit down and catch your breath, unable to focus on anything else that was going on around you. 

“Y/N?” Your eyes meet Yena's, and without hesitation, she takes the empty seat next to you, her brows furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?”

You’re chewing on your bottom lip, trying to explain exactly what you’re feeling, “What does being jealous feel like?” 

Yena hums to indicate that she’s thinking. She presses her lips into a thin line and looks around, “I think the best way to describe it is kinda like… you want to squash whoever you’re jealous of with a boot.”

You’re not sure if that was even an accurate way to describe jealousy, but the way Yena describes it is exactly how you felt with Hyunji. Sure, you’d never ever condone physical aggression, but if you had the power to pull her out of that conversation with Yeonjun like a mandrake, you would. 

“Bloody hell,” you mutter. Because why in Merlin’s name would a single cell in your body be feeling jealousy in that situation? You have no right being jealous of this girl. Not when you don’t have feelings for Yeonjun. 

Yena’s ears perk up and lean closer, “Bloody hell? What do you mean bloody hell?”

Unless… you do have feelings for Yeonjun.

Which could explain every odd thing that’s been happening to you. The way you practically dreaded the days when Yeonjun spoke to you so minimally. The way Yeonjun has made your heart skip more beats than one. The way you were feeling jealous over some girl you’ve never met before. 

Maybe you did have feelings for Yeonjun and maybe it was time that you had to accept them.

“And what does it mean if someone makes my heart race?” 

Yena’s jaw drops, finally processing what’s going on. You didn’t even need to explicitly say Yeonjun’s name to indicate that this was about him. She saw it coming. But she doesn’t want to ruin the moment. She’ll let you tell her yourself, “Depends… is it in a good or bad way?”

“I suppose…” you blink, “Both?” Confirmed, Yena holds back a smile, “It means you like that someone a lot.”

V. AND THE DITTANY

No you weren’t avoiding Yeonjun on purpose. 

You do embarrassingly admit that you’re afraid to see him after the whole ‘realizing your feelings’ ordeal, but it's as if the universe decided to give you a break today and made sure you and Yeonjun wouldn't cross paths.

By some stroke of luck, or perhaps the mischievous workings of fate, today was a day that you and Yeonjun did not share one class apart from herbology, which had miraculously been cancelled at the very last minute. It seemed almost magical that you didn't cross each other's paths at all during the entire school day. 

To be wise with your time, you took the day away from Yeonjun in an attempt to think the situation through. Because what do you do now?

Do you just drop the bomb on him like, ‘oh hey, I like you by the way!” Or should you keep it a secret for a bit to build momentum? 

Yena was quick to advise that you should confess ASAP, “And preferably at the quidditch game! Imagine how cute! You’re cheering for him and only him… and when the snakes win, you’re going to be there and—” Then you interrupted her because you weren’t completely sure if that was even the best way to go about it.

But if you think about it, Yeonjun was a simple guy. You could tell through the way he did decide to show you that his feelings were genuine—bullocks! He paid attention to all you had to say in herbology, asked his own mother to send your favourite snacks just to give them to you… he didn’t hesitate to make you feel better the day you were stressed for an exam.

Hell, even before you confronted him, Yeonjun had been showering you with the sweetest gestures that you could only now fully appreciate. 

If only you could knock some sense into your past self. 

“The library will be closing soon,” you look up and find the library’s student assistant, an apologetic smile sitting rather awkwardly on his face. With a nod, you wait for him to leave, giving yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. You begin collecting your things, the fatigue from the long day making your eyes feel strained and exhausted. Almost as if they could pop out of their sockets with the slightest blink.

As you make your way back to the Gryffindor dormitories, you hear shuffling far behind you before you suddenly hear your name being called out. You turn around to see who it was, and to your surprise, it's Yeonjun, running down the empty corridor with his arms waving frantically to get your attention.

 When he finally catches up to you, you greet him with a shy smile, “Yeonjun.”

“I haven’t seen you all day,” he says, a pout appearing on his lips, “I was looking forward to herbology because I finally got to see you, but curse Professor Longbottom for eating bad soup.” 

Your stomach flutters at his nonchalant comment and you feel shoving your head into the nearest bush, “Yeah, haha… What are you doing here?”

“I was just going on a stroll to clear my head,” he grins, “Are you heading back to your dormitory?” 

You nod.

“Well, let me walk you back then,” Yeonjun offers and you don’t protest. If you hadn’t seen Yeonjun all day, at least you had this, “Don’t want evil creatures creeping up on you.”

You give him a look, “Don’t be silly. There aren’t any evil creatures on the school grounds.” 

“I know,” Yeonjun snickers, “It’s just an excuse for me to walk you anyway. But my intuition is telling me that you would have let me regardless.” He leans forward and down to your height, pretending to search your eyes for answers, but you don’t budge. 

“Your intuition is wrong,” you say, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Never. At least, not this time,” Yeonjun shakes his head, “Anyways, I’m happy I bumped into you because I was going to ask you if you’ve decided on coming to the game.”

“That… that was what I was going to tell you the other day with the gloves but—”

“But Hyunji, I know,” Yeonjun nods, “I know it sounds like I invited her to the game but since she’s a Slytherin, she was going to go anyways and—” Yeonjun sighs and pauses to find words to explain the situation, “I want you to know that you were the only one I invited.”

The tone in Yeonjun’s voice takes you by surprise. You can tell that he still has his mind set on proving to you that he has feelings for you and no one else. You frown, “Yeonjun… I know you’re only telling me this because of what I told you that day during potions but… I want to tell you now that I believe you.” 

Yeonjun’s face lights up and questions, “You do?”

You nod bashfully, “I realized it that day on the way back from Hogsmeade.”

Yeonjun wishes he could tell how much that meant to him, a feeling of relief washing over him like soft waves, “Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For believing,” he grins, “It’s one step closer to making you like me.” Yeonjun winks before his eyes squeeze shut, breaking into a wide smile. His expression fills with an exaggerated appearance of triumph. 

“Hmm, we’ll see about that, Choi Yeonjun,” You laugh at the irony, “Anyways, I was saying that I will be going to the game.”

“You are—”

“For Jongho,” you tease, “The best beater of the team.” 

“You don’t even know Jongho!” Yeonjun exclaims, “How can you—”

“I’m joking,” you poke the side of his arm and roll your eyes, “I’m going for you. The only one who invited me.”

“In that case, I’ll lend you some facepaint and my extra jersey—” He stops when he sees the look you’re giving him, “Just the face paint then?”

Although a small part of you would have wanted to wear his jersey, you were still currently keeping your feelings to yourself. Rejecting the jersey before and suddenly accepting it would look a bit too suspicious, “I suppose that would be fine.”

You don’t realize that you’re at the portrait and you can’t help but feel a bit bummed that the walk was over. It was too short. You barely had the opportunity to talk with Yeonjun about anything else, “I’ll see you then?”

Yeonjun nods, a smile reaching his eyes, “Yes I will.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The day of the game, you, Yena, and Changbin found yourselves in search of ways to pass the time before it was time to head for the pitch. There was truly nothing to do, so you all opted on taking the longest route around the castle possible. 

The three of you were dressed in any green item of clothing you could find in your packed clothes, agreeing that it would have been odd if you all showed up in Gryffindor attire. If you were there to cheer for Yeonjun, you all had to at least look the part. 

Yena takes the opportunity to fill the silence, bubbling with excitement as she talks about the day's upcoming events, specifically your plan to finally confess your feelings to Yeonjun. She knows that you weren't keen on going along with her previous ideas, so she gave you the freedom to come up with your own plan. “Tell me what you’ve come up with.”

“Well,” you begin hesitantly. Truthfully, you have not found the time to think the plan through, opting to just ‘wing it’ when the time came, “I was just thinking of simply telling him?” 

“That’s the most rubbish plan I’ve heard in my years of living,” Yena blinks.

Changbin snorts, “I don’t even think that’s considered a plan.” 

You scowl and give them both a look, “I just don’t want to make too much of a fuss.”

“I know you don’t,” Yena blinks, “But there’s something missing.”

“This is going to be gross,” Changbin grumbles, completely ignoring the problem, “I don’t want to see you and Yeonjun getting all mushy-gushy around me!”

You physically jump, “You could have used any other term and you settled for ‘mushy-gushy’...”

“I’m serious!” The boy exclaims, “I support you two… getting together… but please don’t be those couples that do PDA in the halls.”

“You really think Y/N would do that? She would never…” Yena scoffs. Then she looks over at you with a slight glint of fear in her eyes, “R-right Y/N?”

You nod, “Never. And I give you both permission to knock me into my senses if I do.”

From a distance, the sound of rapid footsteps reach your ears, gradually growing louder and closer. 

“Why… in Merlin’s… beard… are you all… the way…” Wooyoung gulps as if he could catch his breath easier, “Back here?” He’s clutching items in his hands and he holds them out for any of you to take them, “Yeonjun said… oh, bloody hell.” 

You watch him catch his breath for a couple of long moments before he starts again, “Yeonjun said he forgot to give you these.” Reluctantly, you take them to get a better look. Turns out, it was just two small cans of silver and green face paint, “He was going to give you them himself but he was called in by the coach for a pre-game talk.”

“You ran to find us just for this?” you say, “You could have just met us at the game.”

Wooyoung shakes his head, “Nope, I was sent to find you.” He takes in the outfits that you three were wearing, “It looks odd seeing you all in something that isn’t black, red, or gold.” 

Something in Wooyoung’s comment causes something to click in Yena’s head, brows shooting up, “Jung Wooyoung, can you help us out?”

“Depends…” Wooyoung says carefully, “What’s in it for me?” 

“I can’t believe you made me steal one of Yeonjun’s extra uniforms,” Wooyoung groans, unamused. He’s out of breath again, having to run back to the Slytherin dormitories and to a chosen meet up spot next to the bathroom. 

“We’re not stealing, we’re borrowing,” Yena rolls her eyes, grabbing the jersey from Wooyoung, “Besides you could have said no.” Without another word, your friend grabs your wrist and pulls you into the bathroom. 

“Put it on,” Yena says, “And then we can paint your face.” 

“You seem more excited than I am,” your voice is laced with equal parts intrigue and nervousness. Finally giving in to wearing Yeonjun's jersey (and without him knowing) was something even you didn’t expect, especially since you had turned down the idea before. 

“It’s ‘cause there’s nothing to even fret about,” Yena scoffs, helping you tug the larger jersey on, “Okay, now for the facepaint.” 

Yena was wrong. Sure, you knew Yeonjun’s feelings for you were reciprocated, but there was just something about confessing your feelings that was downright terrifying. 

Positioning herself in front of you, your best friend blocks your view of the mirror, and with a mischievous grin, dips her fingers into the paint. Without any hesitation, she begins painting the right side of your face, her touch gentle and precise. You can feel her fingers tracing a swoop underneath your eye and on your cheek bones. With the same maneuver, she moves to the left side of your face, creating another swoop, but this time, just overtop your brow bone. 

“And for fun,” Yena presses dots on your left cheek and right brow bone to create a reverse image on your face, “Okay, now take a look.” She backs away from you, letting you look into the mirror. 

You couldn’t help but cringe at the silver and green paint on your face, not to mention the green jersey you were donning. You looked like you were a Slytherin, which in this case was a good thing, but it still pained your inner Gryffindor. 

“You look cute, even though you’re wearing green and silver,” Yena smiles, “Anyways, we should get going. The game starts soon and we need good seats for your boyfriend to see you~”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you groan childishly. She drags you back out the bathroom, causing you to stumble out through the doors and in line of sight of Wooyoung and Changbin. 

“He will be soon enough.”

“Traitor!” Changbin jokes, pointing to you, “Gryffindor’s got a traitor!”

“Can you shut your mouth or I’m stuffing it with the first critter I find in this castle,” you say through gritted teeth.

Changbin puts his arms up in a feigned surrender, “Can’t believe you’re doing this all for Yeonjun.”

“You look pretty Slytherin-y,” Wooyoung nods in approval, “You’re going to knock him off of his broom.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Welcome to the final game of the season!” The announcer, Soobin, delivers, “Today… Slytherin versus Hufflepuff!” Soobin’s voice is followed by whoops and whistles, livening up the stands. You’re cheering alongside everyone else, feeling the nerves begin to dissipate as your attention is directed toward the game. 

You can see the players are making rounds in the air, getting a feel of the pitch before the game begins. Your eyes try to spot Yeonjun, who, at first, was nowhere to be found. 

“Where is he?” you whisper. The players zoom by so quickly that they appear as mere blurs, their movements too swift for your eyes to track. 

Slowly, the players start taking their positions at the center, facing each other as they wait for the referee to release the snitch, the bludgers, and the quaffle. And there, right by the goals, you spot him, positioned next to who you assumed is Jongho. You feel a kick of energy take over your system and you begin shouting for the green team (mostly Yeonjun). 

As if he had a sixth sense, Yeonjun feels your gaze on him. When he manages to find you in the small sea of people his face lights up. His nose scrunches up as he playfully waves, all before he puckers his lips and sends a blown kiss your way. 

And although you’re supposed to be used to Choi Yeonjun’s flirty antics, you’re left stunned and internally screaming, unsure of how to react in that moment. You're lucky Yeonjun doesn't catch sight of all this, too busy refocusing on the game that was about to begin. 

“The game begins! The Hufflepuffs have taken possession of the quaffle!” You hear Soobin’s voice boom over the speakers. 

Although you weren't much of a regular at Quidditch games like the other wizards, you did understand the appeal. The current game was thrilling, both teams proving their worth as the score remains neck and neck. But to be embarrassingly honest, the first two periods seemed like a blur to you, as most of your attention was shamelessly focused on Yeonjun. 

“Make sure your eyes stay in your head, now,” Yena teases, leaning over to whisper, “You have all the time in the world after this.”

“Am I being that obvious,” you freeze, eyes widening. 

Yena nods, “Yeah, but only to me because I know. I don’t think anyone around here would notice you staring at him.”

Changbin butts in, “I noticed.” 

“And no one asked,” Yena redirects Changbin’s head to the game. 

Just as Yena leans in to whisper another comment, the booming voice of Soobin echoes through the speakers, announcing, "Slytherin's Choi Yeonjun is currently taking on two bludgers!"

Your gaze snaps towards the pitch, searching for Yeonjun in the sky. True to Soobin's words, you spot Yeonjun veering away from the bludgers that chase after him. The determination etched on his face is evident as he’s trying to carefully time his swings to counter the oncoming attacks. Jongho trails closely behind, swinging his bat in an effort to redirect at least one bludger off course, but his attempts fail. 

“Can bludgers even do that?” Wooyoung yells, “They can’t, right?” 

Changbin and Yena shrug while your attention is still entirely on Yeonjun. “C’mon, Yeonjun,” you mutter underneath your breath. 

Everyone around you seemed to be holding their breath, their eyes fixated on Yeonjun. It feels as if time has slowed down, with the entire crowd sharing a collective sense of anticipation. The other players were, for the time being, long forgotten, completely uncertain about what’s going to happen next. 

Was Yeonjun going to be able to out-fly the bludgers or was he going to be knocked?

As you watch Yeonjun continue to fly, you can't quite tell if the bludgers are picking up speed or if he was slowing down. But you’re sure of one thing, the gap between Yeonjun and those bludgers was closing in fast—so close that you found yourself bracing for impact.

“He’s hit!” Soobin yells through the microphone, which was closely followed by a whistle.

Your eyes widen in shock as Yeonjun, in a desperate attempt to regain balance on his broom, slips and loses control of the broom. Before anyone could even process what was happening, the broom shoots straight to the ground, taking Yeonjun with it. 

You're left speechless, leaning over the railing of the stands in disbelief, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. A group of adults rush to Yeonjun's aid, their faces etched with concern and panic. It doesn't look good from where you're standing, and a wave of worry washes over you. 

“I-I need to go down there!” you speak before you think. Your grip around the railings is so tight that your knuckles are ghost white. 

Yena shakes her head, “I know you want to be sure he’s okay, but look how much people are down there already.” She’s right, there were tens of people already surrounding the boy and it wouldn’t be a good idea adding to the chaos. 

“Bloody bludgers,” Wooyoung mutters, “Since when did they do that? I’ve never seen bludgers do that.” 

Your heart’s pumping, beating against your chest while you try to anticipate any news on Yeonjun. The stands sound like beehives, eyes trained on the situation happening down below. 

“Ladies and gentleman,” Soobin’s voice returns through the speakers, “I have been informed that Slytherin's Choi Yeonjun will be okay but will be taken to the infirmary for care. The game will start again shortly.” 

“I’m leaving,” you say flatly.

“Wait, Y/N,” Yena stops you, “I don’t think they’ll let you visit him right now, if that’s what you were thinking.” 

“I’m going back to the dorms,” you frown, “I can’t keep watching the game if I know Yeonjun’s hurt.”

“I’ll come with you, then.”

And you don’t refuse her offer, mainly because you’re still stunned by what just happened, before bidding the boys goodbye.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The following day, you made it your mission to visit Yeonjun in the infirmary. According to Wooyoung, hadn't returned to the dorms overnight, so you expect that he’s still there and resting.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the nurse behind a desk greets you, a smile reaching her tired eyes, “May I help you?” 

You glance into the infirmary and notice that only two beds are occupied. They were both indicated with privacy screens, “I’m here to visit somebody. He was brought here last night. Choi Yeonjun.”

She nods and you watch her gentle smile slowly transform into a knowing one, “He’s in the occupied bed to your right. I believe he’s still asleep, but you can wait for him to wake up if you’d like.” 

You thank her and quietly make your way to Yeonjun’s makeshift room. There's this nagging feeling that visiting him is a bit strange, like you're going out of your way for a guy you're not supposed to be crushing on. But then you remember that Yeonjun is also your friend. Friends check up on each other when they're down, right? So, here you are, paying him a visit like a good pal.

You peek around the screen and see that Yeonjun was, in fact, asleep. Your eyes catch sight of a broken left arm and some bandages that were wrapped around his other arm and his head. He was laying on his side, using his good arm to support his head. 

You couldn’t help but frown at the sight of an injured Yeonjun, sitting down at a chair already pushed up near the bed. 

“Damn, bludgers,” you mutter, scanning over his injuries one more time. They weren’t the worst injuries, but they were still injuries that needed to be treated. 

Treated. 

You gasp quietly, almost forgetting what you had brought with you. Digging into your pocket, you fish out a container of ointment that you and your grandma had managed to concoct a few weeks before the year had started. It was the ointment with the dittany. The one you remember telling Yeonjun about.

You swear by your grandma’s recipe.

Leaning back in your chair, you run your thumb over the lid of the container, deep in thought. The room is filled with an overwhelming silence, and Yena's voice echoes in your mind, urging you to confess your feelings to Yeonjun and make him feel better. However, you decide to prioritize his well-being for now, putting your confession on hold and focusing on ensuring that Yeonjun is okay.

Then you can practically hear Changbin gagging from how awfully ‘mushy-gushy’ the decision was. 

Air shoots out of your nose when you huff out a laugh.

With a sigh, you shift your focus back to the injured boy who was still sound asleep. 

At least who you thought was sound asleep.

As you turn your attention back to Yeonjun, you catch him staring right at you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. It's almost as if he had been waiting to get caught in the act.

“Yeonjun!?” You exclaim, nearly jumping out of your seat, “Why are you just sitting there and staring at me!?” The nurse shushes you, and you quickly quiet down, collecting yourself. You’re tempted to hit his shoulder, but you remember that he’s injured, “How long have you been awake for?”

Yeonjun doesn't bother answering your question; instead, he leans in, locking eyes with you. The look he gives you is soft, and his lips form a gentle smile. You feel your cheeks heat up, your chest doing the same as you shrink back into your chair.

“What?” 

“You like me.” 

You freeze and begin to panic. How were you supposed to react to that? You were supposed to be having a conversation about how he was feeling… if he has a concussion… you were supposed to be giving him the dittany ointment you brought with you… but not this.

“N-no I don’t!” you try your best to keep composure, gulping a growing lump in your throat.

“Why else would you be here to visit me?” Yeonjun’s nose scrunches, “You care about me.” His head tilts to the side, still training his eyes on you, “I think it was about time.” 

At this point, your heart’s running a mile a minute and the room’s growing hot. What were you supposed to do? You were still in the position to deny everything. That, no, you weren’t here because you liked him. You could say you did care about him but as a friend. It worked. Besides, you were here strictly to make sure he was well. Not to confess. 

But then again, this was practically an opportunity that was beckoning for you to go for it and take the chance. Yeonjun was making it easy for you. So, why not?

"And what if I do like you?" You narrow your eyes at him, a playful smile forming on your lips. "Did you forget that you like me, too?"

“Wait, what?” Yeonjun’s eyes widen and his jaw drops to his chest, “You’re not joking right?”

“Joking about what?”

“A-about you liking me,” he stammers. Yeonjun shuffles in his bed, trying his best to sit up, “I-I was just joking about you liking me… I didn’t think that… you’d actually agree to it.”

“Why would I joke about that?” you frown. 

“I-I don’t know,” Yeonjun begins to play with the edge of his blanket. He’s a stuttering mess and he can’t seem to muster up the confidence he’s always had around you. It was an odd feeling. He’s never been on this end before, “You’re really… not joking?” 

“I would never joke about that,” you shake your head. 

“A-are you sure you’re not joking,” Yeonjun repeats, “Like really?” He hopes that he’s not visibly sweating through his bandages and that you can’t hear the hint of nervousness in the tone of his voice. There was even a part of him that thinks that he’s just woken up in a dream and in reality, he’s still passed out on the infirmary bed and recovering from his fall.

What… What if he’s not actually alive right now and his brain is shamelessly walking through his dreams?

Nope. Too much. 

He knows that this was real life solely because he could still feel a mix of both stinging and dull pain in his broken arm. 

“Choi Yeonjun, I really am not joking!” you groan, frustration evident in your voice. "Do I need to provide you with evidence? Because I can't even pinpoint when I started liking you! It just... happened, okay?"

Yeonjun takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his expression shifting. He realizes you're not joking. Like, really not joking. 

You really do like him back. 

At the realization, a surge of confidence washes over him and that playful smile that you’ve grown familiar with appears on Yeonjun’s lips. 

"You can... prove it to me with a kiss," he suggests, his voice tinged with anticipation. Yeonjun can’t quite read your expression, so he quickly follows up his cheeky proposal with, “Only if you’re okay with it! But I’m just… saying that I’m okay with it.”

Yeonjun's gaze drops, and he focuses on the imprint of his toes in the blanket as he waits for your reply. He hears you shift in your chair and soon he feels a looming presence right by his cheek. He feels a rush of warmth from your breath, causing a shiver to run down his spine and momentarily freezing him in place.

With a mix of nerves and excitement, Yeonjun squeezes his eyes shut, his heart pounding in his chest. He's not entirely sure what to expect, but the hopeful part of him believes that you might be leaning in for that suggested kiss. Just as he thinks you might lean in for the kiss, he feels a gentle peck on his cheek.

You pull back, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "There," you tease.

Yeonjun's cheeks flush a tint of red, “T-There?” 

“Was that not enough to prove it?” 

He pouts, “I was… expecting it to be…” Yeonjun gestures to his lips in the cutest way possible. He appeared to be genuinely confused, brows furrowing, “To be…” He’s too embarrassed to say it out loud. 

You playfully roll your eyes and lean in once again, aiming for a gentle peck on the corner of Yeonjun's lips. But Yeonjun's curiosity drives him to turn his head toward you, causing your lips to meet. 

The contact of his chapped lips on yours catches you off guard, sending what felt like jolts of electricity through your body. For a moment, you consider pulling away, afraid that you've made a mistake, but the gentle hold of Yeonjun's arm around your forearm anchors you in place, easing your nerves. It was like his own way of saying it was okay if you were okay with it too, allowing you both to melt into the kiss. 

There’s a brief second that you both forget that you’re sitting in the infirmary of the castle, the world around you fading into the background. All you could hear is the muffled sound of your heart knocking against your chest, and you’re hoping and praying that Yeonjun doesn’t hear it.

Just as Yeonjun brings himself to deepen the kiss, you’re both interrupted by the voice of a certain Gryffindor, “This is exactly what I was afraid of!” 

You turn to find Changbin with a bouquet of flowers (which he had obviously picked from the castle grounds’ bushes) and a rather appalled expression on his face. He lets out an exasperated groan before turning away, muttering under his breath as he walks off. His voice fades off into the distance, “I’ll be back later… won’t be mushy-gushy my arse… I wonder if there’s a spell that’s equivalent to bleaching my eyes…”

You and Yeonjun exchange a glance and burst into fits of laughter, unable to contain the hilarity of the situation. Of all people, it just had to be Changbin who walked in at that moment.

As the laughter subsides, you both catch your breath, still wearing wide smiles on your faces. You and Yeonjun settle back into the moment. The interruption may have momentarily disrupted the moment, but it also added a touch of light-heartedness to the intensity of your feelings.

“So…” You say, “Did I prove it to you?”

Yeonjun's warm gaze meets yours, his voice filled with certainty, "That was more than enough to prove it."

If you made it this far, I want to thank you so much for taking the time to read this! It would be cool to hear what your fav part/'chapter' was (I'm a curious person)! If not, it's okay, I'm still thankful you read this! <33

[vivid-ink]

okay since ur req is open rn i have an idea and ofc i don’t mind waiting, take ur time w it! basically it’s a neteyam x reader angst + fluff (oblivious idiots + opposites attract trope) whereby reader is loak’s bestfriend, who also has a crush on neteyam but keeps it a secret bcs she thought neteyam sees her as another troublesome little sibling like loak but what she doesn’t know is that neteyam also has a crush on her but he thought she sees him only as loak’s boring and non adventurous older brother. idk how it should go from that but can you please PLEASE ends it w fluff 🙏 thank you in advance! feel free to change anything and take as much time as you’d need bby 💓

Thank you for your request anon! 😁 I got on to this a lot quicker than I thought as my ideas for it came to me & boy did it just flow! I thought it was going to be a quick drabble, but holy moly, how have I ended up with 11.3k words of angst, drama, romance & sweet, sweet fluff! I hope you love it, anon! And I hope everyone else enjoys it too!

"Your Best Friend's Brother"

Pairing: Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya Reader No warnings apply - Just a boat-load of angst, drama, protective & possessive Neteyam, romance & toe-curling fluff. Again, I personally do not like the use of 'Y/N' so your name in this is 'Kalia' (pronounced KAA-lee-yah). Language note - paskalin means 'sweet berry' and it's a term of endearment.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

~~ Neteyam’s POV ~~

Neteyam trudged through the verdant underbrush of the woodlands following the sound of playful slapping and squealing in the distance where he was sure he would find you and Lo’ak. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, wondering what mischief and hazardous activities you would both be getting up to today. Fiddling with the string of his bow across his front, he readjusted his bow to sit more comfortably across his torso. The little leather pack that contained his carving implements and bow oil bounced lightly at his hip as he walked.

Granted, it was nice having days off from his warriors’ duties. Group hunts and patrols could be strenuous depending on the game being hunted and the distance travelled, so the days where he could just relax on home ground and let loose were appreciated. Until his parents foisted the responsibility of keeping Lo’ak out of trouble on him…

Lo’ak was only a year younger than him, but Neteyam often ruminated and marvelled at how his brother’s maturity level was still leagues behind his own. Of course, being the oldest child did force one to grow up a little too quickly, but at already seventeen years of age, one would think that Lo’ak would have a better compass and not such a huge proclivity for getting into trouble.

If Neteyam was honest, the only thing that made the days he had to babysit his brother bearable was you.

You and Lo’ak might as well be joined at the hip. The best of friends since you could both walk, everywhere Lo’ak went, you went with him. Every stupid little game or dangerous stunt Lo’ak pulled, you were right there beside him. You had always tagged along with Lo’ak and his other siblings. So, for the longest time, Neteyam had not thought much of the way things were and it had not bothered him; you and Lo’ak, the disruptive duo.

However, things had begun to shift ever so subtly for Neteyam as he grew older, as you all did, growing and maturing into young adults. The older he got, the more he noticed you. His body started to react and respond to you in a way that made him increasingly aware that he was a young man and you were a young woman.

Neteyam began to notice the way your beautiful braids brushed the small of your back. He began to notice the enticing way your slim waist flared out to the curve of your hips and your bottom; the soft rounds of your breasts behind your clothing…

It had hit him quite suddenly one evening and things had never been the same since.

*** FLASHBACK ***

“Kalia!” Neteyam heard Tuk cry gleefully. His little sister bounced through his family’s shelter to throw herself at you, uncaring of the thumping impact she made against your thighs. Your laugh was jovial as you bent to give Tuk a hug, expertly balancing the wooden platter you held in your other hand.

Neteyam watched as you greeted his parents politely at the threshold, stepping into the space only when his mother welcomed you in with a wave of her hand. Neytiri embraced you affectionately and returned your greeting, “Oel ngati kameie, Kalia. Come in. What wonderful food have you brought to spoil us with today?”

The wooden platter held two mounds, one much bigger than the other, both wrapped in cooking cloth. You gently set the platter down in the centre of the space where the food mats were, “Mother and I have been practising making tumpasuk (red-orange berry) sweet bread. This batch was quite successful so we thought we’d share.”

“Ah, you know your cooking is always welcome in my household.” Jake sniggered, patting his belly enthusiastically.

Reaching back towards the platter, you picked up the smaller wrapped mound of bread and rose to your feet. Neteyam saw you scan the vicinity and his heart gave an involuntary skip when your vivid green eyes eventually landed on him and your gazes locked. A small smile played across your lips and he was suddenly drawn to how succulent they looked, a thought that made his ears heat in embarrassment.

You made your way towards him and Neteyam had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth and school his expression into one of nonchalance, lest his face betray the sensual thoughts that his brain had begun to annotate about you as you approached. You had grown very pretty in recent years and despite the nuisance that you and Lo’ak always presented, Neteyam realised that you had always been a very sweet girl. A very sweet, very pretty girl.

“Hey Neteyam,” Your voice was a tender lilt in his ears and he lifted his hands to receive the small mound as you held the sweet treat out to him in both of yours, “This one is for you.”

Neteyam swallowed tightly, hoping the heat in his cheeks and ears were not colouring his skin too obviously, “Thanks, Kalia. I’m sure it’ll taste amazing, as always.”

The soft peal of your giggling tickled his ears then and Neteyam had to resist the urge to reach out and stroke your cheek. Your cyan skin looked so smooth and he was willing to bet that it would be warm and silken beneath his fingertips. The little points of your canines peaked out endearingly from behind your upper lip as you grinned and Neteyam’s nose was suddenly perceptive of an alluring scent that he knew was not the sweetbread in his hands.

“I put more dried tumpasuk berries in yours, as well a little extra rock sugar. I know you like yours sweeter.” You murmured quietly to him.

Neteyam returned your smile, silently allowing himself to bask in the feeling of being looked after specially by you. “I do, you’re right. Thanks again.”

“Hey!” Lo’ak’s voice grated from off to the side, “Why does Neteyam always get his own special treat? I thought I was your best friend!”

“You are, which is why it’s you and I that always get up to no good together.” You agreed heartily, “But your poor brother is the one who has to put up with our shit, so I figured we better thank him?”

Neteyam’s heart sank a little. Oh, was that why he always got his own treat? You were just thanking him as Lo’ak’s babysitter big brother. He suddenly felt a lot less special than he did a few moments ago…

*** FLASHBACK END ***

That had been just over a year ago and ever since then, Neteyam had grown more and more critical of your friendship with Lo’ak. Your spirited friendship with his brother seemed more at odds now to him than it ever had before. You had matured into a young woman who appeared to have her head screwed on the right way, kind-hearted and generous with good instincts. Yet all of this seemed to vaporise into thin air the moment you were around Lo’ak.

Neteyam did not understand why you persisted on accompanying his brother on his silly little escapades, playing stupid games like seeing who could pinch and punch the other the hardest. By Eywa, Neteyam had wanted to punch Lo’ak the day he had seen the bruises and marks he had left on your shoulders and arms. The thought of someone intentionally causing you pain and marring your beautiful skin made his blood boil, even though he knew that you had willingly participated in the ridiculous exercise.

But most of all, Neteyam hated the way Lo’ak’s recklessness endangered you.

Not that this meant he cared any less for Lo’ak’s safety than yours. He loved his brother and all his other siblings immensely and there was a natural desire on his part to keep them all safe. However, his impulse to protect you felt different. It was not rooted in the same place of familial love and affection he felt for his siblings. Instead, the strong urge he felt to protect you rather stemmed from his attraction to you as a male was to a female he was interested in.

If Neteyam had his way, you would never go on another irresponsible adventure with Lo’ak ever again. And this put him at odds with his brother. However, he acknowledged that getting in the way of your friendship would be wrong and he knew it would sour things overall for all three of you.

Neteyam had to find a way to curb this newfound possessiveness that he felt for you. You were not his and he was nothing more to you than your best friend’s older brother. His role was to keep an eye on Lo’ak; keep Lo’ak out of trouble and he would keep you out of trouble by default. Simple as that. Nothing more.

Your squeals and peals of laughter became clearer as Neteyam rounded the corner of a lush coppice into a glade of fyìpmaut (squid fruit) trees. Sure enough, as expected, there were you and Lo’ak, chasing each other round the glade with bits of squashed fruit in your fists, stained almost from head to toe in bright pink squid fruit residue.

Perhaps this was a good time to tell you both that fyìpmaut fruit juice stained almost permanently on whatever it came into contact with…

~~ Your POV ~~

“Lo’ak, you sucker!” You yelled out, darting out of the way as Lo’ak attempted to grab hold of you to smear you further with squid fruit, “I’ve got way more fruit on you than you have on me!”

“Yeah? Well I beat you earlier at seed-spitting, so we’re even.”

The glade of squid fruit trees were in high season currently, the trees around you bursting with bright purple fruit. The fruit hung in bunches, much like utumauti (banana fruit). Each piece of fruit was like a long, squidgy antenna, full of magenta coloured flesh that had five or six stony seeds in them.

Fresh from your run through the woodlands earlier with rumbling stomachs, it had been Lo’ak’s idea to stop and feast on your find. What had begun as a sweet and innocent snack-stop had soon turned playful when Lo’ak had challenged you to see who could spit the seeds the furthest. Seeds were spat, a winner was crowned and then you, against your better judgement, had decided to hurl a handful of pulverised fruit at him. War then ensued, which led you both to the present moment, sticky, breathless and dyed bright pink.

Lo’ak flung another piece of squashed fruit at you, which you only just managed to duck out of the way of, laughing, “Ok, alright! Truce?”

Your best friend snorted at the sight of you, “You’ve got it all up in your hair. You’re going to have to scrub your braids out and re-do them all!”

You launched yourself at Lo’ak, tackling him to the ground in a jumble of mock hisses and snarls, before a familiar voice plucked you both out of your tussle.

“Mum is going to twist your ears so hard they’ll fall off, Lo’ak.”

Startled, you shot to your feet at Neteyam’s voice. Self-consciousness overwhelmed you and you avoided meeting his gaze. Great Mother, you must look a mess… Did Lo’ak just say you had fruit in your hair?... You began a futile attempt to clean up by swiping at the bits of fruit on your arms and legs, trying to flick and rub the tacky mess from your skin and clothing.

“Ah, here comes the killjoy. Why is Mum going to twist my ears, bro?” Lo’ak queried, joining you at your side, following your lead and partaking in a fruitless attempt to clean up.

Neteyam’s toned legs came into your downcast view as he stepped up to the pair of you, and you instinctively looked up to acknowledge him. Your saliva dried up in your mouth as it always did when you laid eyes on him. Your quiet crush on him was getting rather out of hand in the confines of your own consciousness. You would never admit to all the times you had daydreamed girlishly of Neteyam, of all the things a girl wanted a boy she liked to do to her; holding his hand; a slow dance in the fading light of a dying bonfire; a kiss…

You had never admitted your feelings to anyone and especially not to Lo’ak. He would never let you live it down, crushing on his older brother. Though you knew Lo’ak had his suspicions about the way you felt.

Lo’ak thought his older brother was a dull and uninspiring killjoy, but if you were honest, you found that Neteyam’s maturity only added to the already large number of reasons you found him attractive. He was gentle, thoughtful, extremely loyal to those he cared about and one of the most skilled warriors the Omatikaya had ever seen. And he was very handsome… compassionate, intellectual, with a lovely deep voice… Your list went on.

“Squid fruit juice stains.” Neteyam stated matter-of-factly, “It’s going to take a lot of scrubbing to get it off your skin. As for your clothing, the stains will never wash out of cloth. These clothes you’re wearing are ruined, both of you.”

You heard Lo’ak bite back a curse as he fiddled with the fabric of his loincloth. It had been a lovely moss green before, but thanks to the addition of the squid fruit juice, it was now a rather unappealing shade of splotchy browns. You sighed, looking at your own ruined chest covering and loincloth. Your clothing had been a shade of lilac and while the magenta-coloured fruit juice did not contrast quite as jarringly against the fabric of your clothing as it did on Lo’ak’s, the stains were still clearly stains. There was no way the splodges would ever pass for artistic embellishment.

“At least, we didn’t get up to any dangerous shit today.” Lo’ak mused, elbowing Neteyam who sprang away lightly from his juice-covered brother with a chuckle.

“Good. We don’t need a repeat of the rock slide incident from the other week.” Neteyam cautioned, pursing his lips, “You could have both gotten really hurt from that.”

“Eh, it was fine. Kalia rolled out of the way in the end, didn’t you?” Lo’ak slapped you heavy-handedly on the back and you winced slightly in pain.

“It was a very close shave. And watch your strength, bro. Don’t be so rough with her.” The rebuke from Neteyam was delivered in an even tone, but there was an authority behind it that made Lo’ak roll his eyes.

“We should probably go and wash as best as we can before heading home.” You exhaled, feeling the stick of the fruit juice between your fingers, “The juice is starting to dry and it’s getting itchy.”

Neteyam was eyeing you up and down with an insouciant expression that betrayed very little of what he might be thinking and feeling in that moment. You were used to this. Neteyam very rarely displayed strong emotion or had dramatic reactions. He was always calm and collected. If Lo’ak was a jaunty and splashing stream, Neteyam was a deep and tranquil lake.

However, his intent gaze only fired the coals of your self-consciousness and you began to pick worriedly through the soiled braids of your hair. You realised then that there were small, drying bits of fruit still clinging to the backs of your fingers, and you stuck your fingers into your mouth one by one, trying to the best of your efforts to suck them clean.

You heard Neteyam suck in a deep breath through his nose and he spun away from you, beginning to amble back the way he came, “There’s a split in the stream farther back where you can both wash. Come on, we want to get back before eclipse.”

Heat flushed your face and ears and you swallowed the lump of shame in your throat. You probably looked absolutely feral, covered in gummy fruit bits and your hair all dishevelled. What girl ever wanted the boy she had a crush on to see her like this? You cursed your short-sightedness. You had known today was Neteyam’s day off and that you would likely see him.

You took a lot of pride in your appearance usually. Your mother always ensured your braids were impeccably done and you had an array of jewellery and clothing that you enjoyed picking through, deciding what you wanted to wear from day to day. Part of the reason was because you enjoyed being well put together, and the other reason was that you wanted to look good for your best friend’s older brother.

Following Lo’ak and Neteyam as they began their walk back to the stream, you mentally chastised yourself. Neteyam probably thought of you as a second nuisance. He already had Lo’ak to contend with from day to day and there you always were, getting into messy situations right along with him. You knew it did not make you look good, but you loved hanging out with Lo’ak. He was your dearest friend and he made you laugh with all his folly.

Reaching the split in the stream, Neteyam nodded towards one side, “Lo’ak and I will take this side. You can wash on the other. We’ll all meet back here when we’re done.”

“OK, got it.” You nodded in understanding.

“Kalia?”

You turned to face Neteyam at the sound of your name, your ears twitching curiously as you wondered why he had called out again.

Neteyam shot you a toothy grin and he chuckled, clearly tickled by something, “Make sure you wash your face really well. You’ve still got squid fruit pieces on your nose and forehead.”

Mortified, your hands flew to your face and sure enough, your fingers met something stodgy in the centre of your forehead. Cursing under your breath you turned on heel and strode for the stream on your side, secretly enjoying the sound of Neteyam’s husky laughter even though it made your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Wading into the stream, you stopped once the cool water pooled around your hips, not wanting to go any deeper. You had never been comfortable in deep or rushing water. From childhood, you had always had an irrational fear of water. All attempts to teach you to swim had failed, as a result. You could tread water at best, but that could not be considered proper swimming. No matter, you had never held any desire to join the fisherfolk in their work hunting fish and gathering other river prey anyway.

Reaching to draw a cupful of water in your hands, you splashed yourself all over to moisten your skin. You began your arduous process of intently cleaning the fruit stains from your skin, knowing that this was the easy part. Washing your hair would be an even bigger task. You cleaned gently around a bad scrape on your left elbow, careful not to dislodge the healing scab that had formed there.

In the repetitive monotony of splashing, scrubbing and dunking, it was easy for your thoughts to drift back to that fateful day a few weeks ago when you earned that scrape. You had acquired several other grazes and cuts on your thighs and knees that same day too. It was also one of the few days you had ever seen Neteyam abandon his usually measured and composed demeanour in a rare display of emotion…

*** FLASHBACK ***

“I’ve got more rocks than you do.” You teased in a sing-song voice as you watched Lo’ak eye the broken cliff face before you, trying to decide which piece of rock he wanted to dislodge next.

“Yeah, but the rocks in my pile are bigger.” Lo’ak countered, “They’re riskier moves than the tiny little pebbles you’ve picked off.”

It was a dicey game you were playing, and once again it was all Lo’ak’s idea. There was an overhanging arch on the damaged cliff face that stood before you and the aim was to take turns dislodging as many rocks as possible before the overhang crumbled down.

“I thought that the person with the most rocks when the overhang crumbles, wins? Not the person with the biggest rocks.”

Sticking his tongue out at you, Lo’ak picked another hefty looking stone and set his foot on it, attempting to dislodge it with his body’s weight, “Nah, I’ve changed the rules. Person with the most amount of big rocks wins.”

Several smaller stones crumbled from the overhang, smacking and rolling loudly onto the ground in a precarious song of warning at the danger they were trifling with.

“That’s so unfair, you skxawng!” You whined peevishly, “You can’t change the rules partway through the game! Stop being a dick.”

“How about the both of you just stop entirely?” Neteyam’s voice called out as he appeared at the treeline. He had left the two of you for a bit to go down to the river to refill all your waterskins, and look what mischief you had both managed to get up to in that short span of time.

Lo’ak threw his arms up in the air, exasperated, “Nah, don’t ruin the fun, Neteyam. I’ve almost won anyway!”

“Are you kidding me, bro?” Neteyam exclaimed, aghast as he looked from his brother to you and then to your respective piles of rock, “Stop right now. That overhang is going to fall at any moment and it’s dangerous. Get away from there.”

“That’s the whole point, bro! We’re trying to see who can dislodge the most rocks before it crumbles.”

“Is it the most rocks or the biggest rocks?! You keep changing it!” You squealed in frustration. Both you and Lo’ak had strong competitive streaks, and neither of you liked losing.

Sensing your genuine upset, Lo’ak acquiesced and proposed a final tie-break challenge, “Alright, alright! How about this? You see that big rock over by you and this big one here by me? Whoever dislodges it first wins the whole game, once and for all. Never mind our piles.”

“No, no way. Stop it, both of you. We’re leaving now!” Neteyam hissed gravely.

However, neither you nor Lo’ak were paying him any attention. Narrowing your eyes at your best friend, you considered his proposal. You looked at the size of the rock Lo’ak had picked out for you, noted its position and then looked over at the rock he had assigned himself. Yours appeared to be in a better position. It was not wedged in as tightly to the cliff face as his was. You reckoned you could do it.

“Deal.” You called out to Lo’ak, who hooted in triumph despite Neteyam’s snarl of vexation at his side.

Both of you got stuck in immediately, feet and hands all intent on dislodging your respective rocks. Yours wobbled in its spot and you barked out a laugh of impending victory.

Several small rocks fell from overhead then and a thunderous crash echoed from above. What happened next happened so quickly that you were unsure if it had been your rock or Lo’ak’s that had caused the aftermath. The overhang disintegrated in a flash and a slew of mud and jagged rocks came pouring at speed over the edge where the overhang had been.

A cry of surprise left you and you stumbled backwards, tripping and falling painfully onto your side. Instinctively you rolled away from the surge of the rock slide and curled into foetal position, hands and arms over your head with your knees pressed to your chest.

The deafening roar of the rock slide dissipated, leaving a swirling cloud of dust and debris. Its gritty and granular texture stung your nose and you thought you could feel the grainy scratch of the tainted air all the way down your windpipe and into your lungs as you coughed violently.

Slowly uncurling your form, you tested your joints in small movements. You were scratched and scraped, but nothing felt broken or seriously injured. You could faintly make out Lo’ak and Neteyam’s worried voices as they called out to you, and you responded through a tickly throat, “I’m here! I’m OK!”

The rock slide was massive. It had divided you and separated you from the boys where you all stood in a raised wall of rock and mud. Thankfully you were out in the open and so you were not trapped. You just had to climb over the wreckage to get back to the other side.

You saw the rocks at the uppermost part of the wreckage shift and Neteyam’s head poked over the peak, closely followed by Lo’ak who cried, “Oh, shit! Kalia!”

The pair of brothers climbed gingerly over the apex of the wreckage, sliding downward on the slope towards you.

Neteyam reached you first though and you were gradually helped to your feet by his strong and firm hands. His eyes were wide and his breaths rushed from him in harsh pants while he checked you over. He circled you, gently lifting your arms as he went around, looking for any sign of serious injury. He crouched down then to look at the grazes on your legs.

You were a little shaken by the scare of the rock slide, but you were fine and you patted Neteyam’s hands where they clutched at your hips, his eyes focused on a graze along your thigh, “I’m fine, Neteyam. Nothing is broken. They’re only skin wounds.”

His eyes locked with yours for a few moments and they blazed with fury in their golden depths. He rose to his feet and you were prepared for him to berate you, but he swivelled around to Lo’ak instead and unleashed his ire, “You fucking moron! What were you thinking? No, I’ll tell you what, you weren’t thinking! This could have ended so much worse than it has! You should know better than this!”

Lo’ak shrivelled under his brother’s wrath and Neteyam returned his livid eyes to you, “You should know better. Both of you!”

Neteyam was almost vibrating with his rage. His nose was wrinkled and his upper lip was curled back in a snarl. You shrank at the sight, your shame consuming you as his words sunk in. He was right; you and Lo’ak had been extremely reckless.

Frankly, you were lucky to have escaped with your lives.

*** FLASHBACK END ***

That was another thing that you discovered you adored about Neteyam. He forgave easily and he never held a grudge.

You smiled to yourself at the thought. Neteyam had been angry for all of ten minutes at most, before he reverted to his usual caring and concerned self. You appreciated his kindly nature for what it was. Lo’ak, on the other hand, enjoyed pushing people’s buttons and you knew he took his brother’s forgiving nature for granted by always testing his boundaries.

The true blue of your own skin stared back at you as you surveyed your torso and your limbs. Your face felt fresh and your hair, though sopping wet, no longer felt tacky. Satisfied with your scrubbing efforts, you waded back to the mossy bank of the stream where your clothing lay. You had tried to wash those too, but no amount of scouring and wringing had freed the stains from the cloth.

Dressing quickly, you met the boys back at the agreed spot.

Lo’ak’s skin still looked purple in places and his jaw dropped at the squeaky-clean sight of you, “How’d you get all of it off you like that?”

You gloated a little at your job well done and smirked at him, “Good and proper scrubbing. Something you’d know nothing about. If you did, you’d smell better in general too.”

The comment elicited an offended gasp from Lo’ak and a hearty laugh from Neteyam who, despite having not partaken in their juicy fruit war, had also taken the opportunity to bathe.

“I don’t smell bad!” Lo’ak protested, chest puffing with indignance.

You laughed and teased your friend further, “No, you don’t smell bad, but you don’t smell good either.”

Neteyam stepped up to you then and your breath hitched on your next inhale. You hoped he had not noticed. Unlike his brother, Neteyam smelled very good to you. He scent was a clean musk like fresh forest greenery with a tinge of something spicy underneath.

“You did a good job scrubbing, but you missed a spot.” The rich depth of Neteyam’s voice swept over you like a warm caress and you held your breath like you had somehow lost the ability to respire like a normal person. You saw him reach out with a hand and then his thumb swiped slowly and deliberately at something high on your forehead near your hairline.

His hand pulled away and you registered a small pink glob of squid fruit on his thumb just as said thumb disappeared into his mouth to suck the digit clean. Neteyam’s intense gaze never left yours as he pulled his thumb unhurriedly from between his lips. A delightful shiver raced down your spine, and your girlish daydreams churned their way to the forefront of your mind when you saw his tongue dart out to lick his lips one last time.

Neteyam turned then to lead the trio of you away back towards home and you vaguely registered your numb and tingling legs following suit alongside Lo’ak.

A revolted groan sounded from Lo’ak and it pulled you back to reality from the daydream you had been immersed in. Your head pivoted to meet his face, which was contorted into a disgusted moue, “What is it, Lo’ak?”

“Stop eyeing up my brother’s ass.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Truthfully, you had been admiring Neteyam’s rear, but you were not about to admit that. Scrambling for cover and trying to worm your way out of the hole you had found yourself in, you stuttered, “I wasn’t! I was looking at his- umm, at his-”

“Ass.” Lo’ak supplied again, deadpan.

“No!” You hissed under your breath. Neteyam was walking a little way ahead of the both of you, but you were careful to keep your volume down. “I was looking at his tail!”

A sarcastic scoff was your best friend’s response and he eyed you calculatingly, his expression dripping with his disbelief, “Because tails are so interesting. Come on, Kalia, don’t lie to me. I know you find my brother attractive. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Stubborn and resolute in your plan not to admit the truth, you shook your head, “Nope.”

Lo’ak laughed, the stray beaded braid that wasn’t tucked behind his ear swinging charmingly with the movements of his head, “Oh, so I suppose you just look at everyone like that? All moony-eyed? Hell, do you look at my ass like that when I’m not looking?”

“Eww! No! Gross!”

What ensued was a series of pinches, slaps and squeals as you squabbled. Neteyam halted in his tracks and he turned to see what all the commotion was about with a questioning look on his face.

Unable to resist the opportunity for another jibe at you, Lo’ak called out to him, “Oi, turn back around bro. You’re ruining the view.”

You felt the blood rush to your face and ears and you knew instantly that you were flushing a deep shade of violet. You slapped the back of Lo’ak’s thigh hard and satisfaction bloomed within you when he gave a pained yowl in reaction to it.

~~ Neteyam’s POV ~~

Seeing that you were both just bickering again as you often were, Neteyam gave a weary shake of his head and resumed walking. He had missed the meaning of Lo’ak’s cryptic comment, but he had not missed the deep blush staining its way across your smooth cheeks. He smiled to himself. You looked so beautiful when you blushed.

The bright pink of the squid fruit juice against your blue skin earlier had also coloured your complexion a lovely purple hue and it had reminded him very much of your blushing skin. The fruit juice had been smeared all over you; in your hair, on your face, your neck, your chest… And you had looked like a mouth-watering mess to him.

Neteyam felt saliva pool in his cheeks at the memory. By Eywa, he had wanted to clean your skin off himself with his own mouth and tongue. He had wanted to kiss you and taste the sweetness of the squid fruit on your plump lips. He had wanted to lick the gummy bits of fruit from your slender fingers and trail his tongue over every stained part of you until you were clean.

When you had sucked your own fingers into your mouth in the next moment, his thoughts had darkened even further. The sight of your succulent lips wrapped around your fingertips had been incredibly arousing, and he had forced himself to turn away when the next image his very male brain had supplied was of your sweet lips wrapped around something else of his.

He halted his thoughts immediately at the recollection. This had to stop. He had to find a way to distract himself from hankering after you. You were his baby brother’s best friend, for goodness sake.

A feeling of futility swamped Neteyam when the next remark his brain supplied in response to his previous statement was ‘so what?’

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

A few months later

Neteyam sat leaning against the softer, peeling bark of kelutral (Hometree) on one of the upper boughs. He had returned from the day’s patrol not long ago and the soft light of partial eclipse streamed in dappled rays from the leafy canopy above.

Polishing the wood of his bow was one of the few things he found therapeutic in life. It was a mundane task and repetitive in nature, but it relaxed him and gave him time to just think and be. The slightly, nutty scent of the bow oil he was using was also a comforting smell that reminded him of who he was (a mighty warrior, firstborn son of the olo’eyktan) and it grounded him in those facts.

A much more saccharine scent tinged the air around him then and Neteyam’s ears twitched, alerted to the approach of someone from the branches below him. A loaf-shaped parcel, smelling absolutely delicious and wrapped in cooking cloth was carefully placed next to his thigh and he smiled, “Hey Kalia.”

Shifting to peer downward over the edge of his seat, Neteyam met your lovely green eyes which glimmered currently with something he could not decipher in their depths.

You grinned toothily at him and your tone was earnest, “Are you busy? I don’t want to impose.”

“Nah, I’m just chilling.” Neteyam replied, patting the space next to him and watching with a genial smile as you eagerly hopped up to join him at his invitation. He picked the loaf-shaped gift up and cocked his head at you, “What’s this for? It’s your birthday tomorrow, not mine. Why are you giving me a treat?”

Your teeth nibbled at your lower lip and you turned beseeching eyes at him, “I know you like utumauti cake so I set some aside for you from the batch I made this morning. I need your help.”

“Ahh, so this is bribery, is it?” Neteyam taunted mildly, regarding you through narrowed eyes.

“Well, kind of, but not really. I would have saved you some cake anyway even if I didn’t have a favour to ask.”

“I’m just teasing you.” Neteyam’s chuckle was warm, “You know you don’t have to bribe me to help you out. What do you need?”

Tender affection swelled in his chest as he watched you beam at him in excitement at what you were about to ask. Neteyam realised in that moment that he would do just about anything to see you smile, to make you happy. He enjoyed your cooking and the little treats you left him, but they were unnecessary. You had an unlimited supply of favours from him, as far as he was concerned.

You were almost bouncing next to him with your delight as you spoke, “The river trout are migrating currently and I want to see them tonight down at fkewkxor (mighty waterfall). My parents said I could go, but only if you came with me.”

The annual river trout migration passed through Omatikaya territory each year as they swam downstream through the nearby river. The migration was a stunning vision after eclipse at the falls, the bioluminescence of the masses of trout rippling in a multihued display as they made their journey down towards and over the falls before carrying on their way.

Neteyam’s agreement fell easily from his lips. He was more than happy to accompany you tonight, “Sure. Of course I’ll come with you.” However, before his imagination could begin to conjure up delightful little fantasies of how he would spend his time alone with you this evening, a maddeningly familiar voice called from below.

“Did he say yes? Can we go tonight?” Lo’ak.

Irritation flared through him and Neteyam almost sagged in disappointment. He was conscious of keeping his expression cool though. Of course Lo’ak would be coming. He was your best friend. But you both needed a chaperone to go out after eclipse and that was where he fit into the picture. It seemed you had picked up on his annoyance anyway and you wrinkled your nose sheepishly at him, eyes beseeching.

With a long-suffering sigh, Neteyam called down to his brother, “Yes, I’ll take you both tonight! I’ll meet you at the ikran rookery after last meal and we’ll go then.”

You let out a gleeful squeal and pumped your fist into the air, and Neteyam could not help the grin that wormed its way across his cheeks at your elation. You were thanking him profusely and were just about to slip off the bough to leave him to his peace, when he took your hand to get your attention. The little gasp of surprise you emitted was endearing.

Neteyam squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing in fond strokes across your knuckles, “Only because it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

He released your hand and you thanked him one more time with an appreciative smile, “Thanks, Neteyam. It means a lot. I hope you like the cake.”

***~~~***

~~ Your POV ~~

The spectacle was breathtaking. The swell of the frothing rapids at the mouth of the waterfall was a foamy contrast against the rippling flashes of bioluminescent colour from the trout beneath the surface. You could not make out the individual fish, but the polychromatic mass of them made it look like the water was alive with colour. The entire waterfall glowed in the darkness of eclipse and you could hardly believe your eyes at what you were seeing.

Neteyam had led the three of you to an enormous tree that grew almost right by the mouth of the waterfall. The tree’s boughs and branches extended and hung out over the waterfall itself, making it a prime viewing spot. Your cheeks hurt at how wide you were smiling and even Neteyam seemed just as enamoured by the vision where he stood next to you.

The trout migration was a beautiful sight, but Neteyam was beautiful too.

Neteyam was entirely focused on the spectacle before him and it gave you a perfect opportunity to stare. You knew staring was rude, but only if you were caught, right?

In the low light of eclipse, his skin almost appeared a richer shade of blue, his darker stripes a complementary cobalt against his cyan skin. The bioluminescent tanhì (freckles) on his face sparkled bright like stars in the night sky like his own unique set of constellations. Your eyes tracked his tanhì on their journey down his striking form; over his shoulder, down his well-muscled chest and abdomen; down to his hip and toned thighs…

“I thought you wanted to come here to watch the trout.”

Your head snapped up to Neteyam’s face and you found him watching you, watching him. Mortification shot through you at being caught, and your brain was blank and useless in that moment, completely unhelpful at finding something to say. You must have looked very much like a trout then with your wide, unblinking eyes, your mouth opening and closing wordlessly…

Neteyam was still watching you intently, but there was a hint of something in his eyes, something you had not seen before; something playful and hot and utterly male. It made your skin prickle with a delicious heat and made flutters burst in your stomach.

You broke the eye contact, embarrassed, and your words finally returned to you again though they were not exactly coherent, “I did! I do- I am- It’s just- Just thank you.”

You chanced a glance at him again and a corner of his lips quirked upward. Neteyam dipped his head downward, his chin lowering, but his eyes never left yours as he watched you. You shivered at the look. He looked like a hunter about to capture his prey…

“Holy shit! You have to come up here. The view is amazing and there are no lower branches in the way of your eyeline.” Lo’ak exclaimed from several branches up, “Come on, guys!”

Excited, you climbed your way up to meet him with Neteyam following close behind.

The branch Lo’ak stood on was a younger branch near the top of the tree’s canopy. It was not as thick and impervious as the older boughs lower down, but it appeared to be holding Lo’ak’s weight just fine. You hopped nimbly up onto it and began gingerly making your way down it towards Lo’ak who had his hand waiting outstretched for you. The branch bowed ever so slightly and it swayed under your feet as it adjusted to your added weight. You halted your steps.

Neteyam’s voice was a low warning from behind you where he remained next to the tree’s trunk, “This branch isn’t going to hold you both. Come back this way Kalia.”

Lo’ak, as usual, held a conflicting opinion, “Aww man, don’t worry bro, yes it will. It’s a little bendy, that’s all.”

You looked between the two brothers who both had one hand stretched out to you now as you stood in the middle. Neteyam was shaking his head in a reiteration of his point, his golden eyes fierce, impelling you to return to safety. Lo’ak’s expression was nonchalant, his eyebrows raised awaiting your approach.

In the end it was Lo’ak’s next words that sealed the deal, “Come on, Kalia, don’t be a wuss.”

You never backed down from a challenge, especially not from Lo’ak. You were not a wuss and so you turned towards him and took the several steps required the rest of the way to grasp his hand.

The branch pitched downward with a little wobble under your combined weight, but it held.

A triumphant ululation trilled from Lo’ak and he laughed, “See? I told you it’d be fine.”

You breathed out a quiet ‘wow’ as the new vantage point afforded you a clear and unimpeded view of the entire waterfall in all its phantastic glory, just as Lo’ak had said. However the branch you were on was not wide enough for both of you stand side by side, and it was a little awkward peering from around his shoulder.

Seeing your position, Lo’ak looked up at the branch above him and he grinned at you, “Here, I’ll hop out of the way so you can see better.”

The next few moments passed in a sluggish blur for you, almost as if time had slowed to a snail’s pace. The last thing you heard was Neteyam’s panicked cry of, “Lo’ak, no!”, before Lo’ak sprang upward from in front of you, reaching for the branch above to pull himself up and out of the way.

The sickening crunch of wood splintering followed as the force of Lo’ak’s well-meaning spring shattered the weight limits of the branch beneath you. Abruptly, your feet were no longer grounded as you saw the broken branch fall away. Gravity sank its sharp talons into you and then you were plummeting too towards the majestic but treacherous waters that lay in wait below.

The last thing you felt was your breath tearing from your squeezing lungs and forcing its way up your throat in a choking scream.

~~ Neteyam’s POV ~~

The piercing sound of your terrified scream echoed through the woods and Neteyam watched, petrified, as your frame was swallowed by the thunderous falls.

“Fuck, KALIA!” Lo’ak’s own screech was hoarse as he pulled himself up all the way onto the branch above. He appeared a hair’s breadth away from diving in after you when Neteyam stopped him.

He was not about to let his brother risk his own life any further, but Neteyam held no such reservations about himself, “No, Lo’ak! Stay here, you skxawng! Call for help if we don’t surface!”

It was a perilous endeavour, but what choice did he have? There was no time to waste thinking. You were down there and he needed to get to you. With his heart galloping in his chest and his heart whispering prayer after prayer to Eywa to keep you alive, Neteyam leapt from the broken stump of a branch and into the raging falls after you.

Tucking his head as his body speared into a downward dive, Neteyam felt the force of thundering water hit him before he was submerged under the surface. All around him were roiling bubbles and scattering trout as they endeavoured to avoid the foreign creature that had just invaded their environment. There was no sense of direction; he had no idea which way was up and which way was down. Neteyam felt trapped in the never-ending churn of the water, but he reached and pulled against the water with his arms and kicked out with his legs nevertheless.

Neteyam’s sole concern was you. Great Mother, he had promised to keep you safe…

You had only been allowed to go out tonight because you were under his watch; you had been entrusted into his care. His thoughts were frantic… Please Eywa, help me… help her! Help me reach her!

Neteyam realised the trout around him were upright and swimming in the same direction, which was a good sign. It meant he was the right way up. Having regained his sense of direction, he doubled down on his focus. He could not see any sign of you beneath the water, though it was difficult looking through shoals of trout. Reaching the river’s bottom, Neteyam kicked off it and propelled himself towards the surface for a breath of air.

Breaching the surface, Neteyam’s head spun around looking for you. Nothing. He dove under again, continuing his search. All he could see was trout and his chest was tight with frustration and desperation. Please, Great Mother, please!

Something small and black drifted past his eyeline in a furry tuft amidst the writhing bodies of trout... Your tail! It was the tuft of your tail! With renewed vigour, Neteyam swam towards it with all his might, his hands reaching out until he could grasp it. The trout parted as he pulled your unmoving form towards him. His emotions were a contradiction in that moment. He was relieved that he had found you, but alarmed to see that you were unconscious.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Neteyam kicked his legs, hauling you up to the surface.

Neteyam jostled your body roughly in an attempt to wake you when your face broke the waterline. He coughed, his frenetic words leaving him in wet gurgles as he cried out, “Kalia, wake up! Can you hear me? Breathe! Kalia!” You remained unresponsive; your chest unmoving as you drew no breaths.

The water was calmer here now as he floated downstream with you. Turning onto his back to keep you atop him, he frog-kicked towards the riverbank and thanked Eywa when he could finally touch the riverbed with his feet. Swimming back far enough until it was shallow enough for him to stand, Neteyam righted you in his arms, hooking one arm under your knees and the other around your shoulders so he could carry you ashore.

Delicately positioning you on your back on the muddy bank, Neteyam’s fingers flew to the crook of your neck where it met your jaw, probing desperately for a pulse. Nothing. Pure, undiluted panic shot through him. Placing his hands on your chest like he had been taught, he knelt alongside you and started chest compressions.

“Come on, Kalia!” Neteyam urged, “Come back to me, paskalin!”

Thirty compressions later, he pinched your nose, tilted your head back and sealed his mouth over yours. He gave you two breaths, feeling your chest rise slightly with each one. He checked again for a pulse.

Still nothing.

With a wild curse, Neteyam restarted chest compressions. He knew this was your only chance at survival and yet he was so afraid that he would break your sternum with the force of his compressions. Sixteen or seventeen compressions in, your shoulders and chest punched outward and your body gave a violent wretch. River water spewed from your mouth and you took a ragged but blessed breath in. A fit of wet coughs wracked you as your body ejected some more of the water from your saturated lungs.

A startled cry of relief left Neteyam and he propped you upright in his arms, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, “Thank you, Great Mother! Keep breathing, paskalin. That’s it! That’s good.”

He cupped your cheek, forcing your gaze to focus on him. Your eyes were wild with disorientation and fear, and Neteyam clutched you to his chest as you began to cry bitterly. The sound of your crying was heart-wrenching, but it was welcome proof to him that you were alive.

Your drenched body quaked in his arms from the chill of the river water and Neteyam let out several trills and ululations, calling for his ikran. He needed to get you back to his grandmother. Quickly.

***~~~***

~~ Neteyam’s POV ~~

To say that Neteyam was angry with Lo’ak was a vast understatement. He was absolutely livid with his brother.

He and Lo’ak had fought countless times in their lives. It was the way of things when you grew up as brothers whose personalities were at such odds with each other. Countless disagreements and countless rebukes, but Neteyam had always been eloquent, even in his ire. He had always known how to scold Lo’ak; had always known what words to use to chastise him. But tonight had clearly been one step too far.

Tonight, Neteyam knew he was beyond angry because for the first time in their lives, he had no words. He had been silent ever since he had returned to kelutral with you in his arms several hours ago.

Lo’ak had taken full responsibility and had owned up to his reckless behaviour. Both their own family and yours had been horrified by the events of the evening as he had recounted the truth to them. Lo’ak’s immense contrition had manifested itself all night as repeated apologies to whoever would listen.

His grandmother had thoroughly checked you over when he had arrived home with you. You had sustained several shallow gashes to the skin of your back where you must have hit the rocks at the bottom of the waterfall. You had aspirated river water and there would still be excess fluid in your lungs despite you having coughed most of it up. Mo’at had prescribed bedrest and careful monitoring of you for the next several days in hope that you would not develop a lung infection.

It was astonishing how the axis of Neteyam’s entire world had shifted in the space of one evening. He had vowed to himself a few moons ago that he would find a way to stop his growing feelings for you. He had done this partially out of respect for your close friendship with Lo’ak and also because he was convinced you did not see him the same way.

But he had nearly lost you tonight. And there was nothing in life that gave a person quite the same clarity of perspective than the threat of imminent death.

So what, if you were his baby brother’s best friend? Tonight had taught Neteyam that life was too short not to go after what he wanted.

Neteyam kept silent vigil in the healers’ hut where you were now asleep again. He had not left your side so far. Part of him needed to see you, to hear you breathing to assuage the deep-seated apprehension in his soul that you might somehow stop breathing again. And what if no one was there to notice?

Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam saw Lo’ak get up from his spot a little further away to come and sit by him again. Neteyam ground his jaw together so hard that his teeth started to hurt.

“Say something, bro.” Lo’ak pressed softly, keeping his voice down so as not to wake you.

Neteyam’s nostrils flared and he pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes in vexation, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. You’ve said that a billion times already.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. Say you forgive me now, please? You were right, OK? That branch didn’t hold.”

Neteyam’s gaze had been alternating only between your prone form and his clasped hands in his lap up until now, but he turned incredulous eyes at his brother then. He gave a quiet scoff of disbelief, “By Eywa, that’s what you’re sorry for? For not listening to me? You think that I want you to apologise to me because you didn’t believe that I was right? Fuck, you don’t get it at all, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak blinked several times and his brows knitted in a confused furrow, “What? I’ve already apologised. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

Neteyam’s nose wrinkled in a silent snarl at his brother, “This is your fault. It’s always your fault because your apologies are never backed up with a change of behaviour.”

“I know, bro. I promise I’ll listen to you from now on.”

“No! That’s not it!” Neteyam’s hiss was quiet but no less vehement, “It’s not about me being right or you not listening to me. It’s about you recognising that you need to think before you rush headlong into your fun and games! I won’t always be there to protect her!”

He saw Lo’ak’s eyes flick to your sleeping form and saw the recognition dawn on his brother’s face. Lo’ak had caught the inflection in his last sentence, “Oh, so this is just about Kalia, is it? You’d be fine if it was me that nearly drowned tonight instead?”

 Neteyam growled a warning, “Don’t be unkind. This is about both of you.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Lo’ak said casually, but Neteyam could sense his brother’s rising temper, could see it in the impatient flick of his tail, “In general, you’re concerned about the both of us, but right now tonight, this anger of yours, it’s all about her.”

“Of course! She died tonight, Lo’ak! She was dead when I pulled her from the river! We’re lucky I managed to resuscitate her!” Neteyam snarled, his ears pinned and his own tail lashing behind him, “You put her in danger. You have done so, so many times with your recklessness! So help me Eywa, if you can’t comprehend in your thick skull that you need to grow up and consider your own safety, then leave Kalia out of it, at least.”

Lo’ak’s lips curled in a derisive snarl of his own, “You can’t have her, bro. I won’t let you.”

Neteyam clenched his jaw. This was not the direction he had wanted this conversation to go in, but at the same time, it was a conversation that had been stewing in the background for moons now. His brother seemed all too eager to jump on this train of thought, full steam ahead.

Lo’ak continued, “She’s my best friend. I see the way you look at her, Neteyam. You want her for yourself.”

Neteyam knew he had to tread carefully here and choose his words wisely. It was both dishonest and futile to deny his attraction to you now, but he did not want it to come at the cost of your friendship with Lo’ak. Swallowing tightly, he began in a measured tone, “I don’t want to take her away from you. I just want her to be safe. I want you to be safe so that she is safe with you. You’re not good for her if you won’t change your behaviour.”

Lo’ak was shaking his head now, his breaths puffing heavily from his nostrils as he got more and more agitated, “How about you stay away from her, bro. She’s my friend.”

“This doesn’t have to be a you or me situation.”  Neteyam reasoned, “My interest in her and your friendship are not mutually exclusive things.”

“No, you can’t have her!” The words were spat from Lo’ak in a vicious growl, louder now than before.

“That isn’t your choice or mine, Lo’ak! It’s hers! But I have every right to express my wish to court her!”

“STAY. AWAY. FROM HER!”

“You don’t have any right to demand that!”

“Stop fighting.” The voice was feminine croak and Neteyam startled, his head spinning back to look at you. His brother’s head had swivelled around just as swiftly and he was sure he heard the vertebrae in Lo’ak’s neck pop.

~~ Your POV ~~

It had been the most impressive quiet argument that you had ever heard, if you were honest. The brothers had done well maintaining a hushed volume up until the last few moments. You figured it was time to intervene since the conversation was getting out of hand and it was also especially imprudent for you to be eavesdropping on a conversation about, well, you.

Your throat felt scratchy and your lungs felt sore, but you were fairly clear-headed otherwise.

“Shit, Kalia, sorry we woke you.” Lo’ak was by your side in a flash and one of his hands curled around yours, “Fuck, I’m so sorry about tonight. I really am.”

His tone was remorseful and you knew he felt awful. Lo’ak was careless but he was not callous by any means. He cared greatly for you despite him unintentionally contradicting that fact at times with his reckless behaviour.

Lo’ak’s eyes appeared a little watery in the flickering firelight of the hut and you reached out to pat his cheek kindly, “Hush, I know. I’m OK now. We live and we learn, yes?” He nodded mutely.

You saw Neteyam’s face swim into view beside Lo’ak’s and your heart gave a squeeze. An assortment of thoughts and emotions eddied around in your mind at the sight of his handsome face; gratitude, affection, remnants of your fright from earlier in the evening, and a kittenish shyness at what you had heard him say just moments ago.

Looking back to Lo’ak, you took the hand that was holding yours and kissed the back of it, “You know you’ll always be my best buddy, right? Nothing will change that. Ever.” You saw the slight pout of Lo’ak’s lips lift in a grin. You needed to speak to Neteyam though, alone, to thank him for rescuing you. Mostly to thank him, but you wanted to address a few other things too…

You cleared the scratch in your throat and shot Lo’ak a reassuring smile, “I’ll catch you in a bit, yeah? Could you give your brother and I some time? I’d like to speak to him.”

You had to fight the urge to giggle because when you saw Lo’ak’s grin pucker into an unimpressed moue. He looked from you to his brother and then back again and drawled sarcastically, “Yeah sure, I see how it is. You’ll be my best friend in the daytimes and then you’ll go and suck face with my brother in the evenings.”

Both you and Neteyam hissed Lo’ak’s name in shocked unison as he got up to give you both some privacy. He called over his shoulder as he disappeared out the draping flaps of the healers’ hut, “Don’t do anything gross in there kids, I’m just outside.”

Neteyam emitted an irritated huff and he rolled his eyes. His cheeks were purpling ever so slightly and you giggled, your own cheeks heating in response. You sat in silence for a few moments, neither of you really knowing what to say or how to begin.

You looked at Neteyam in the lambent glow of the firelight. He was looking intently at his folded hands in his lap and a frown wrinkled his forehead. He looked a little upset and you realised then that while it had been you who had fallen, gotten injured and had to be resuscitated, it was Neteyam who had had to live the waking nightmare of all those moments.

You extended the fingertips of your left hand and you stroked them gently against the back of his clasped hands, “Hey, thanks for saving me. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“You weren’t here for a little bit.” The words were a broken mumble from Neteyam, who turned one of his palms out to twine his fingers with yours. He looked defeated.

“I’m here now and that’s what matters.”

His fingertips were warm against your cold ones and you instinctively sought out more of his warmth, sliding your palm forward to seat it fully against his. You felt his fingers wrap around your palm in return and the motion sent a thrill through you.

Neteyam took a shaky inhale and his exhale punched out of him in a defeated sigh, he shook his head gravely, “Fuck, Kalia you scared me today. You were gone. I had to fight to bring you back and-” He stopped suddenly and his eyes reluctantly fixed themselves on the dark purple bruising where the top of your chest was peeking out from the woven blanket Mo’at had wrapped around you.

“It doesn’t hurt much.” You supplied, “You did what you had to and I’m so grateful. I was stupid today too. It wasn’t just Lo’ak who didn’t listen. You told me not to go out onto the branch. I’m sorry too. I should’ve known better.”

He pursed his lips at you then, clearly agreeing with your sentiment, “Look, I’m not going to try and stop you and Lo’ak from hanging out, but you both need to be more careful. Think about what you’re doing, assess the situation. I don’t want to have to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation ever again.”

“Not the kind of mouth-to-mouth you’d like to give me?” Perhaps it was the heady mix of tonic that Mo’at had given you as pain-relief. Or maybe it was the fact that you had overheard Neteyam admit to being attracted to you that emboldened you, but the quip was out of mouth before you could stop it.

Neteyam’s mouth popped ajar at your remark and he spluttered, “I-It wasn’t exactly a kiss.”

Your tittered even harder at his reaction and you countered with another quip, “No, I’d like to be alive when that one happens.”

He continued to gawp at you and you nibbled on your bottom lip bashfully. Eywa, you’d been crushing on Neteyam for a couple of years now, and to hear him say that he would like to court you was a girlish dream come true. You squeezed his hand promisingly and he chuckled.

He licked his lips and his eyes fell to his lap again. He shifted his other hand to join your already clasped ones and rested it over yours. Your hand was cradled between both of his now and the blazing heat of skin was electrifying. He lifted his eyes then to meet your gaze and admitted, “I didn’t think you felt that way about me.”

“And I thought you didn’t see me as anything more than your little brother’s annoying friend!” You exclaimed with a laugh, “By Eywa, I’ve been cooking you things and bringing them to you personally for so long now. I was convinced you just thought me a pest.”

Neteyam frowned and cocked his head at you, “I thought those were bribes and ‘thank you’ treats for keeping an eye on you and Lo’ak.”

“Well, they were, but it’s because I didn’t want you to stop coming.”

He smiled at you then, one of his beautiful, bright smiles that made you feel all warm and tingly inside. He brought your knuckles up to his face and pressed a kiss to them, and the soft velvet brush of his lips made your stomach quiver and your toes curl. He murmured, “So you’ll allow me to court you?”

You beamed at him with a nod and you wondered if he could see the happy stars bursting in the depths of your green eyes. A stupid part of you was a little disappointed that the first time his lips had touched yours you had not been conscious. It had not been a kiss, but still.

You wanted a kiss now and you never backed away from an opportunity to get what you wanted, “Kiss me, Neteyam, please?”

A corner of his lips quirked upward and his chin tilted down again, his eyes never leaving yours. You recognised that look. It was the same keen expression he had worn earlier that evening after he had caught you staring at him instead of the trout. Great Mother, that expression sent delightful shivers through you.

You saw him lean down towards you slowly, bracing his weight on his palms on either side of your head, and he smirked, “Lo’ak is going to be so annoyed.”

“Lo’ak knows. He’s known about my feelings for you for a while now. He’s just going to have to share.” You whispered, your heartrate quickening and your breath puffing in smaller pants of anticipation as Neteyam’s face neared yours. A husky chortle rumbled by your ear and you gave a small gasp as his hot breath tickled the side of your face.

Neteyam purred his response, “Well as long as I don’t have to share this-” He pressed a slow kiss to your right cheek, “Or this-” Another unhurried press of his lips to your left cheek, “And especially not this-” His smooth lips enveloped yours in a chaste, but lingering press, “Then I’m fine sharing. Happy birthday, Kalia.”

Bright and unbridled delight rushed through you in a series of flutters and flurries in your chest and in your stomach. You had almost forgotten. The darkest part of eclipse had come and gone. It was your birthday today. Your first kiss with Neteyam was without a doubt, the best birthday present ever. Neteyam was grinning smugly down at you and you reached up to loop your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you again for another deliciously plush and moist meld of your lips.

It was a little uncoordinated and a little bit messy as the two of you continued your curious exploration of each other’s mouths. After all, you were both new to each other like this. However, the experience was no less stimulating. You had plenty of time to practise and get better, you mused.

Evidently Lo’ak had chosen the wrong time to peek through the gap in the hut’s entry flaps, and you and Neteyam broke away from each other laughing when his indignant voice sounded from outside.

“Eww, yuck! I SAID NO GROSS STUFF!”

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Author's Note: Ya'll this took on a life of its own, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoyed this little rollercoaster of drama! I'd love to hear your thoughts & reactions. Reblogs are so very much appreciated. Share this piece if you loved it! 🥰Thanks for reading!

[ynculture]

CHANGE

pairings: nakahara chuuya x afab reader

summary: I welcome you to my brain rots. I hope you’ll enjoy. When the bratty doll, disobeys, she gets karma. Chuuya comes to her rescue.

tags: I don’t know how to tag, Not beta, I blow like Oda’s orphans, Afab reader, I’ve never had sex, Fem pet names (Doll), Fingering (momentarily), SH sorry, thigh riding, creampies. P to V fucking, Idk what else omg, EXHIBITIONISM!!!

notes: please don’t do this, practice safe sex (never had sex). 18+,  minor DNI!

wc: 1.7k

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Chuuya raised a brow as his eyes narrowed, scanning your frame. Glaring at the way you dress, your stature and all. Gazing and roaming his eyes on your physique, wearing a red collar tube dress that hugs your curves, greatly fitted on your body. Too much of your skin is exposed, it’s making him pissed.

It’s been some time since you got a day off from tons of missions demanded by the organization. So you decided to have a girls night out, clubbing with some other friends from the mafia. Chuuya is still busy with his paper works and reports that he won’t even bother join, not that he plans to crash the girls party.

“Huh? Why? Does it look bad?” You wondered, looking at your own self.

“No.” He exhaled sharply as his eyes darkened. “Come here, pretty doll.”

Confused and curious you comply to his request and walked closer to him. Standing in front of Chuuya when he suddenly bent you over the couch.

“W-what—” Your words hang on your lips as his gloved fingers traced the outline of your femininity through the thin fabric of your panties.

“It’s too short. A little movement and the skirt already hike up your thighs. Some bending over and your panties are already exposed.  Perverted assholes would surely oggle at you at the club.” He pointed in a stern tone, irritation hinted all over his voice. Yet he’s groping at your ass, caressing lightly before gripping on each side of your hips, as he slightly thrust his pelvis from behind making you feel his bulge. Letting go of you as you fell on the couch.

“Go get changed.” He ordered with full of authority, drawing a sour expression on your face. Chuuya likes it when you dress up, and he never had problems with your kind of clothing, but your dress tonight is just… sinful.

You look rather ravishing that he might just not let you out, have you all for himself. Alone.

You held your eyes on him, unfazed as you look at him with blank gaze. Annoyed at his demand.

“Thanks for your concern. I’ll just be mindful.” The tip of your heels clink as you walk out. Shock was evident on his face at your disobedience. His head still processing your bratty act that he wasn’t able to react immediately. The door already closed behind you as you walk towards the elevator, going down the building. Excitedly made your way for the club.

It was a Saturday night. The club full of party goers, ready to get wasted for the night. Having fun at the jam pack dance floor, people dancing to the rhythm of the loud music under the neon lights.

———

You were just having your fun when a shiver creep up your spine when you felt a breathy sultry whisper by your ears. Too close enough to hear from the loudness of the night. Too close enough to invade your personal space. Making you all uncomfortable.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” The stranger purred in your ear. His hand caressing at the roundness of your butt cheeks, lightly brushing his fingers by your inner thighs from behind. Groping at the plumpness.

Turning your back to face the man; his lips curved into a smug smirk, licking his lower lips, trying to look tempting— he was the same one who had been eyeing you ever since you set foot at the club earlier. Tall and handsome with his boyish charms, but simply not your taste. Not that he is even more interesting than Chuuya. (No one is more interesting than Chuuya could ever be, at least to you).

Your brows raised in irritation at his perverted advances. About to sass at him when someone from your behind harshly slapped the stranger’s hand away from being all touchy with you.

“Fuck off.” Chuuya warns. His gaze darkened, glaring icy daggers at the other guy. Clearly fuming and pissed off. Making it clear in his dangerous aura that he doesn’t accept any retorts or come back.

He hissed at him, clicking his tongue as the latter moved away and let go. Walking out of your sight, Chuuya’s expression lightly softens as he looked at you, caressing your cheeks gently.

“You okay, doll?” Concern was written all over his eyes, but you could only nod your head, still dumbfounded over the fact that he really still went after you at the club.

Your lips are agape but no words fell from your mouth.

‘Just what is he doing here anyway?’

“Good.” He exhaled, irritated and annoyance was still curved on his face as he held your hand, leading you out of the dance floor. Walking towards the table you and the girls occupied for the night.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh as you tried to sit beside him, but he just grabbed at your waist, effortlessly placing you on his lap. Looking at him with questioning gaze, words hang from your lips. Without another word, he pushed your panties aside, sliding two fingers in your warmth. Harshly spreading apart inside.

It didn’t take another blink when his digits was replaced with his half-hard cock dipping in your pussy. You couldn’t help but hiss at the sting of not being prepared with any foreplay. Not yet slick enough with arousal to lubricate the sliding of his shaft.

Even still, he continues to penetrate deeper. Stretching your hole accustomed to his size. His hands are at each side of your hips, guiding the rocking and rolling of your body back and forth, up and down on his dick.

You couldn’t help but grip on the edge of the table for dear life as he didn’t paused his thrusting up to your hole. Even more so as you felt yourself slowly getting moist enough to drench his shaft with your wetness.

—Coldness rushes under your skin as he pressed his gloved palm on your inner thighs, lightly brushing his fingers over your clit, the same time Higuchi and Gin are coming back on your table. Your eyes widened as you gulped, letting go of your grip on the table out of reflexes.

“Ah?” They both paused as they saw the mafia executive.

“You’re here too, Chuuya-san?” Higuchi hiccups while Gin blinks her eyes trying to stay conscious. Both heavily drunk from drinking shots after shots from very moment you girls entered.

“That’s why we didn’t noticed where you went earlier. You suddenly went missing right there.” Higuchi lightly nodded to herself as she slumped on the other side of the couch, Gin sitting beside her, her head placed on the table, silent, drunken and sleepy.

“Yeah…” You awkwardly chuckles, feeling a little nervous yet thrilled and aroused over the current predicament. She continues bugging Gin, drinking even though they’re already clearly intoxicated. They didn’t even noticed how nor questioned why you’re sitting on a man’s lap, even more, your superior.

Or maybe simply, they just don’t bother. After all, it’s Chuuya. Chuuya Nakahara, Port Mafia Executive. Crashing your girls night out. Oblivious to how you straddle the mafioso's lap, riding on his thighs, with his thick hard cock buried deep in your pussy.

They’re back at the table, drinking and chugging glass after glass, bottles after bottles. Yet you and Chuuya are still busy in your own business.

Feeling him slightly increasing the pace of his thrusting up in your walls. Your folds fluttering at his base as he sinks deeper inside, burying himself in your core as your muscles clenched around his length. His thickness continuing to stretch you open at every slide.

Gathering all of your strength to not moan loudly as your breathing hitched. Whimpering lowly. Your chest heaving heavily as your gaze are shaky, sneaking glances at your friends, wary that they might caught you both in a shameless act.

Your nails digging in his skin as you held on his wrist. His gloved fingers teasing at your clit, rubbing circles as he pounded into you. You’re putting all your weight on him so not to give way on the deeds happening on your side. Keeping a lowkey vibe as Chuuya fucks you in front of your friends in a full packed night club.

You gritted your teeth as you clenched your jaws, lowering your head as your brows furrowed in pleasure. Biting on your lower lip as you hissed over feeling his teeth scraping on your nape.

“Shit… Fuck…Shh!—” Chuuya hushed and rocks as you roll your hips back to meet his pounding. His cock sloppily sliding back and forth your sopping cunt, drooling all over his balls and the crack of your bums. The zipper of his pants grazing at the skin of your back thighs.

His teeth lightly sink in the exposed skin of shoulder blade as he silently grunted near your ears. Feeling his cum painting your womb as he came inside your walls. Filling you full with his load. Breathless as he pressed kisses all over the length of your neck, nibbling on your skin, marking you with his love bites. His tongue swirling at the sucking.

“Chuuya…” You purred, trying to calm from the high.

“Hmm?” He hums as he continues to prep kisses. He’s unusually clinging to you in public. Displaying much affection than he usually does. His light kisses on your cheeks and forehead, turning into giving you hickeys. His warm embrace, turning into squeezing your frame with his hug. His hand that usually stays by the side of your hips or back, now kneading at the plump of your inner thighs, exposed to the cold breeze of the freezing air conditioner at the club. Making you more shaky and trembling than the washing of release over your femininity.

His hands and arms all over you. Covering your whole frame with his body, keeping you in a possessive protective manner.

“What are you doing here?” You wonders even though you already got the hint of his intentions for coming after you. His lips are by your ears, nibbling lightly on your earlobes.

“Why? You don’t want me here?” You snapped your head to look over him, your brows raised as amusement glinted your eyes over Chuuya’s pouty lips and whiny tone.

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle that vibrated through your still connected flesh. Mixed love juices drenching his pants, but he could care less. He wouldn’t even dare let go to move slightly away and tuck his dick back inside. Feeling the throbbing member against your pulsating walls.

“Shut up.” His cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, feeling hot and embarrassed at your chuckling over his reply.

“Let’s go home.”

[laura1633]

Hi Laura,

I had been hesitating to ask this for a while and because I have now seen someone else do it too, I decided to ask you. But feel free to ignore this if you don’t want this on you page!

In any case, thank you in advance for your effort with a lot oh #’s but I have live one follower so it didnt ready many people. And you have (I think) lots of followers or you reaches more people than me.

So I was also wondering of you know this AO3 story:

Unfortunately I don't remember exactly, but what I'm sure of is that Max and Charles are getting into a relationship. It takes place in the house of the sainz family. Idk if they met again or for the first time but they develop feelings for each other. It is an alternate universe, histories and Charles' family does not approve of this relationship.. and I thought forced Charles too come back home. Also sometime at the end of the fic, Charles will be robbed when he was on his way back to Max to save there relationship and the only thing he cared about was a necklace that was from Max that he promised not to lose.

I have search AO3 upside down, under every tag. I hope you can help me🥹

In any case, thank you in advance for your effort❤️💙

I don't mind sharing at all 💕, hopefully we can find the fic for you. If anyone recognises this one then it would be really appreciated, you can send me an anon ask if you would prefer to give the info anonymously.

The plot sounds a little familiar so I will have a look and see if I can find it when I get a little time later this evening.

[tunisian]

Genuine question here about the censoring post you made. Is tumblr not on the same boat as other apps who could "strike" you for using certain words? They've taken down certain tags, so I figured they would hit a blog with the use of certain words on text post.

I know when it comes down to tw words, I use the actual words, but with other kinds of stuff, sometimes I double guess it or remove the post after a certain amount of time.

Idk. Tumblr has changed so much, some for the better, but there's also so much uncertainty.

Anyways, thanks in advance if you answer this. 💓

hi love. i personally havent experienced or seen posts or blogs getting taken down because i or someone else said "i want to [kill] myself" or "will be watching [porn] later" or including the word "lesbian" (instead of le dollar bean/le$bian) in textposts. the only 3-strike system im aware of on tumblr is related to copyright.

the censoring post was mainly my irritation about how people keep using 'censored' words irl as though there will be real life repercussions if they used the real words. this algospeak is slowly finding its way into irl vernacular which is extremely disturbing. another anon told me they read an obituary where it literally said a kid unalived themselves. last week i saw a picture of a description card in a MUSEUM about kurt cobain saying he 'unalived himself at 27'.

tumblr is more lenient than all other social media platforms in terms of what you cannot say or tag. if youre unsure, check out the guidelines. plus from what i know, if tumblr takes down a blog or post, they will mail you why they did it and you can always appeal.

what i do want everyone to keep doing is tag the real words for trigger/content warnings. people have these filtered for a reason. and if you want to censor something because, for example, you dont want bot blogs or because you have a hot take on a ship you dont like, just use the ole * instead of a vowel. hope this helps 🫶

[stoopid-turtle]

hello... 😅 uhm, first of all, i truly am sorry in advance for being awkward 😭 but for once i decided not to let my awkwardness keep me from sharing (what i think/hope are) positive thoughts with a stranger on the internet, so here i am.

i'm not around much and legit only made this acc bc like you i'm a late bloomer here and needed as many outlets for my yizhan/wangxian obsession as i could get my greedy hands on, in the big year of 2023... sigh. anyway, as an avid lover of meta/analysis posts since my early fandom days began around 15 (oof 🥲) years ago, finding your acc was such a lovely surprise. i agree with your views a LOT, and really appreciate how eloquent and well-written your posts are! even more so bc there's a lot i still don't know and most of the time the source material is very hard to reach and/or understand due to the language barrier, so having other turtles to rely on to access those, even if filtered by their own biases/opinions, is wonderful. besides, such input coming from a new fan is also comforting and imo refreshing, juxtaposed with that of older fans... it keeps the fandom alive and all that jazz. it's also very brave given how ruthless some folks can be on the internet, and on this corner in particular 😮‍💨 it just felt like reading my own thoughts written by someone else sometimes. i gasped and nodded at your posts soooo many times djskdjdj thank you for that!

(btw you followed me back the other day and i legit fangirled irl bc ??? whatttttt 😅 i still think it was an accident but okay omg djskdjdj AHEM. sorry)

then today i logged in and read your recent posts feeling squeamish about sharing more thoughts and as much as i 100% relate to you saying that kind of attention makes you anxious, i just... idk, i had to let you know i enjoy everything you post, even though adult life has kept me from being able to read it all so far. i understand you stepping back and i respect that decision, i'm not by any means asking you to go against what you know is best for you. at the same time, i can't help but hope you'll still show up every now and then bc your posts will be missed 🥲 i guess the whole motivation behind this is that it just made me sad to think your valuable insights will be something i'm yet again late to, if that makes sense?

djskdjdj again, i'm so sorry for being awkward and weird and dropping all of this on your inbox unprovoked. you don't have to reply (or read this AT ALL omg 😭😭), in fact i'm so embarrassed by this that you'd probably have to reach me through inquiry lmaooo 💀 anyway, have a great life, thank you so much for the great job, bjyxszd etc ❤️💚💛

Oh, don't be anxious! I'm really not a big deal.

Thank you for dropping into my inbox! I love hearing from other turtles, especially relative newbies, like myself! One of my fav parts of coming out of lurking mode is getting to talk to other people. I kinda follow back anybody who follows me, cause it seems polite? I don't know tumblr etiquette. I just follow the tags when I get the chance.

I appreciate the encouragement! I try to avoid dramatics, so I'm sorry for the upset last week. The situation is largely resolved, and I am feeling more okay. I kinda backed off because I wasn't sure of my footing here in fandom as compared to others, especially as I do think I have some takes that fall outside fandom consensus. Again, I don't mean to rock any boats and I'm not invested in convincing anybody that they should have the same opinions as I do. Hearing from turtles who do want me to continue posting gave me some more confidence there.

So, yeah, I expect I'll post some more as I have time. I'd like to post more on dd (cause he's my fav). I'd also like to try to figure out gg cause that dude is so confusing to me. I do have RL stuff going on, and I don't have the time to be super-active outside of occasional posts. But I'd like keep posting stuff. At least until I get all my Yizhan thoughts out.

[weeb-warners]

Hello!! I just wanted to stop by and say thank you for your kind tag comments on my art! Truth be told your art is such a huge inspiration to me, so to see that today when I woke up made me smile so hard!!

But I also had a question if that's okay? I was wondering what program you use for your art? And how you do the dotted gradient thing? (if you know what I'm talking about idk how else to describe it sdlkfsdlkfsdf) I use CSP and I've been trying to figure out how to do it for ages and just can't figure it out...

Thanks in advance! -torra-and-the-toons

Hello!

First of all, thank you! I collect anime-warners from others like precious gems, and I just couldn't resist your art.

Inspiration?! I'm melting into a puddle as I type this dfélgkdfglé Thank you! <3

I use Clip Studio Paint too! I will make a small tutorial about it here:

There's the Halftone Effect in Layer Properties (usually on the right side) If you turn it on on your layer it will turn it into halftones based on the tone/shade of your layer (the darker colors the bigger dots)

You can change the size and position of your dots, and even whether it uses dots.

Dot Settings: Circle Dot Settings: Lines

I love to combine these settings by using two layers. I merge my finished illustration on a new layer. (Right click on layer window, press x)

I make a circle settings one, and a noise settings one. I set the noise one as screen. I merge these two an use it as texture on colored illustrations (using soft light layer style)

Hope this was helpful!

[strangethings-everywhere]

Writer's Tag Game

So @sassyandclassy94 tagged me on Friday and I've been out of town so FINALLY I can finish this lol Rules: Answer some or all of the questions below. Tag your fellow writers. Enjoy!

Link to your masterlist I'll give you two! My AO3 and my masterlist

Favorite and least favorite genres to write (angst/smut/fluff, etc): I guess my least favorite is fluff based on the works I have sitting in my AO3 lol. I don't really write a ton of smut (I'm not super comfortable writing, mostly because every time I've tried it's been SHIT) but I live for angst. Sorry in advance lol

Favorite characters to write for? Harley Keener all the way. His character is so underused in the MCU and while that sucks, it gives me a lot of space to sort of mold him to what I need in the story and make this version of Harley my own.

Which one of your works is your favorite? Right now, it's "When Our Fingers Touch, I Feel My Way Back Home". It was fun to sit down and do a lot of research about WWII and also to create something out of my love for both coxstroke and band of brothers type stuff.

Which one of your works is more popular than you thought it would be? "Proof That Harley Keener Has A Heart" for sure! I never thought the parkner/Harley Keener/Ty Simpkins fandom was as big as it was and I've gotten a ton of love on that story. A big thank you if you've been with it since the beginning!

Which one of your works is less popular than you thought it would be? IT'S "WHEN OUR FINGERS TOUCH I FEEL MY WAY BACK HOME"!!!! Idk, maybe it will have it's moment, but I loved writing it and I hope it gets some love

Which one of your fics was hardest to write? Why? It's absolutely "The Injury of Finally Knowing You", my Locklyle fic. I think it's so hard because I put a lot of pressure on myself for how I portray the characters and getting that ship exactly right, whatever that is. It's kind of the same for my coxstroke fics too. Basically I get worried that I'm getting so OOC in my attempt to tell the story that people will get turned off to it.

What is your favorite fanfic by someone else? OOOOOOOOOOOOO lord where to start? Currently I'm waiting on an update for a Parkner/Percy Jackson world crossover fic by trailsofdaisies on AO3, as well as a Batman Parkner fic by NightZone (also on AO3). There's a regency AU Locklyle fic that I cannot find for the life of me on AO3 that I ADORE! The Cormorant by sparrow-in-the-field is such a good coxstroke fic! Really all TBITB fics are so good, you guys are so talented! Honestly, I could go on for hours, but I'm reading a lot of different fandoms so I'll save you all from that lol

Tags: @seasidesandstarscapes @kcsplace @dogwooddiaries @sparrow-in-the-field and anyone else who wants to join!

[the-grim-and-sanguine]

WIP List (Tag Game)

Thanks for the tag @the-down-upside-finch - Check out their post here!

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Oh geez uh...most of my WIPs are actually fanfics so this is gonna be fun lol (I apologize in advance for this ryftguh)

Also yes some of the WIPs are named after songs-

Non-fiction:

Bug Out/In Binder

Original Fiction:

Alt-Z

Below The Surface

Blink City

Debt Collector

Does It Matter?

Enough

Experiments 8, 13, 27, 31

Foray

Sanguine

The Kids Aren't Alright

Willem And The Dragon

Worlds End

Fanfiction:

A Ready Mind And A Little Magic

A World Without

Another Time And Place

Apologies With A Side Of Forgiveness

Broken

Done

Hold Me Down

Home For The Wayward Kid

Don't Give A Kid Tools

Dragon

From The Top

Hormones And High School

Over And Over Again

Redemption

Remember (Me)

Return

Secure. Contain. Protect.

Skin Deep

Sweater Weather

The Sun Will Shine On Us Again

Try Again (And Again)

Well That Isn't Right

Would You Be So Kind

You're Holy To Me

Oh this is gonna be a pain since that's 37 WIPs and I only have 25 mutuals and idk what some of y'all's main blogs are so ahh cfyvghb...I apologize in advance to everyone about to be tagged... Gentle Tags cause I'm sure most of y'all have already been tagged: @chayscribbles @fallinginlovewithbeingaliveagain @nettleandthorne @k476live @ratofdeath @arakkiisuperstar @tate-lin @mayarab @buffythevampirelover @theknightswhosay @chiefwritesbook @oh-judas @morriguscrawls @surroundedbypearls @serotoninshift @aether-wasteland-s @fayeiswriting @k-v-briarwood @planets-and-prose @maddstermind And anyone else since this is NOT 37 people-

[bimrsadler]

I love your writing so incredibly much!!! A softer sin is one of my favorite Arthur fics everrrr, so me asking for this is no surprise lol. I was thinking of fluffy smut with a female reader after Arthur has that conversation with some of the gang (presumably the men only cause he says “boys”, so idk if that would change the direction you wanna go in!) around the campfire about how hard he’s trying to keep things together and make sure everyone’s safe. No preference for angst or anything else, just wherever it takes you! Thank you in advance!!!

Unburdened

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

Word Count: 2,000

Warnings/tags: nsft, fluff, unprotected piv, high honor Arthur, thigh riding, handjob, praise kink (from both sides, they just wanna make each other feel good) established relationship/first time together, dirty talk, language, smoking

Notes: thank you so much! Haven’t written for Arthur in a hot minute and this was a nice motivator. ❤️ I do love writing him getting some happiness in his life too lol. Hope I got the correct camp conversation and a decent enough amount of fluff

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I don’t wanna die. But if I have to, I will.”

You felt your heart catch in your chest upon hearing Arthur’s admission to the gang. Resting nearby you watched as he sat by the campfire moments earlier, apologizing for being short with everyone as of late, divulging that he just wanted to find a way forward.

You admired his sharp jawline, highlighted by the orange glow of the firelight dancing along it as he confessed he was struggling. It was an uncharacteristic showing of emotion for Arthur, something that made him all the more endearing to you.

What you had was new. It started with stolen glances, tipsy flirtations and excuses to be around each other. Pining gazes that didn’t go unnoticed by the likes of a snickering Mary-Beth or an eye-rolling John.

It culminated with a spontaneous kiss to Arthur’s cheek after he brought you a type of jewelry you’d asked for should he find it on his outings. As you watched him blush and nod with a smirk, it was then you’d decided you’d wasted enough time waiting for the right moment, or him - to make a move.

“Ya know, maybe you could take me out proper sometime?”

Arthur had raked his thumb along the stubble your lips had graced. “Maybe I shall.”

He was rarely in camp for longer than a day at a time though and nothing had progressed past that since. You suspected that he may have also been keeping you at arms length. Perhaps because he didn’t feel worthy, or was scared of hurting or letting you in. More than likely the stress of trying to keep everything together played a factor, and maybe all of those things at once.

When Arthur finished his talk at the campfire, he strolled to the outskirts of camp where he struck a cigarette on his boot, leaning against a tree.

After giving him a moment, you approached and inquired warmly, “want some company big guy?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” Arthur smirked slightly.

You leaned beside him, “heard what you said back there. Doing okay?”

He let out a long sigh before replying, “yeah, just y’know…lot on my mind.”

“I bet,” you gently took his hand in yours. “You don’t have to take on the weight of the whole gang by yourself though Arthur.”

He squeezed your palm slightly in response but remained silent as he gazed out at the lake.

Taking a drag off his cigarette, he finally glanced at you from under the brim of his hat, “maybe yer right.”

“Everyone just seems…lost, and I don’t know what to do about it. Things feel different since Blackwater, Dutch seems different.”

“Things are different, but…maybe there’s nothing we can do about it. Maybe we just do what we can, help who we can and enjoy what we got in the meantime.”

“I got an obligation to this gang…”

“You can take care of the gang and yourself Arthur. Let the others take some of the load once in a while.”

Arthur turned to face you, “owe you an apology too, I haven’t meant to be distant. Guess I just,” he trailed off while rubbing the back of his neck. “Ain’t really sure how to do this anymore.”

His knuckles grazed your cheek gently, “but I still wanna try…”

Grabbing the lapels of Arthurs shirt, you pulled him down for your first proper kiss. It was warm and slow, grinng against each other when it became clumsy. There was something special about the nerves in exploring each other for the first time.

It was Arthur who deepened the kiss and let his hands move further, using your quiet moans as permission. His confidence bloomed as his tongue massaged yours, fingertips grasping into your figure more eagerly than before.

Backing you up against the tree, he parted your legs with his own sturdy thigh, urging you by the hips to use him for your pleasure.

Arthur gathered your dress above your waist, allowing your heat to grind against his thick muscle more closely. Whenever your lips briefly parted, pants and whimpers left your mouths to be swallowed by the other.

Wrapping your fists around his suspenders you pulled him as close as possible, rolling your hips against him as the tickle in your belly grew into a fire.

“That’s it girl, use me how ya want to.” Arthur’s hands wandered behind, squeezing your ass with a low growl.

“Oh Arthur, I’m almost there…”

Arthur gasped a quiet yes as he leaned back to watch you come. Through squinted eyes you saw his awestruck face in the moonlight, your blissful waves clenching around nothing.

“Oh sweet girl” Arthur murmured as he took you in for another passionate kiss, your body falling limp in his arms.

Glancing behind you he ran his hands along the tree and inquired with genuine concern, “shit, I’m sorry darlin’, yer back okay?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “yes Arthur, barely even noticed.”

“Now,” you slipped your hands underneath his suspenders, directing them to fall off his shoulders before unbuttoning his shirt, “it’s your turn.”

Arthur watched as you reached his belt, hand brushing against his hard length. Swallowing hard he delicately stopped you from going any further. “You sure you want this? Want me?”

Pausing the undressing, you instead wrapped your arms around his neck in a reassuring embrace. “Never been more sure of anything baby,” you whispered before parting with a kiss to his burning cheek.

From loving to lustful, your hand palmed the hardness on the other side of his jeans. “Lemme take care of you handsome.”

Arthur’s brawny body shuddered against you, “yes ma’am.”

Shirt open and jeans unbuttoned, Arthur leaned his head back as you pulled his cock out and stroked languidly.

“Good boy. I wanna make you forget about all your problems…,” you cooed - kissing his hair covered chest.

Arthur released a beautiful noise, caught between a moan and a laugh as it came out, “already done that and then some.”

“Good,” your hand moved along the velvet skin of his shaft, reaching the base where you gently cupped his balls.

“Arthur, baby look at me.”

And what a sight he was. Already falling apart, the desperate cowboy looked down at you with his lust-blown emerald eyes, hat skewed slightly backwards.

“You wanna be inside me?”

“Yes,” he huffed, chest heaving.

“Then take me, I’ve been waiting so long.”

Arthur backed away and removed his duster coat,“well it ain’t polite to keep a lady waitin’ I ’spose.” You watched as he laid his jacket out in the grass before extending a hand.

You indulged him as he pulled you closer, “what a gentleman,” you grinned.

Arthur set you down on the inside of his warm coat as his scruff collided with your neck. “Oh sweetheart ya got me all wrong,” you let out a giggle while he playfully nipped at your sensitive skin.

“I’m a nasty…” Arthur’s hand freed your breasts as he pulled at the stiff peaks, moving his lips to your ear, “nasty man.” The rugged, husky voice alone was enough to make your core ache as your giggles turned to whimpers.

Leather and woodsmoke pleasantly hit your nose as your buried your face in the coat beneath you. Arthur above you smelled of the same, with tobacco and mint and musk, and all the things that made him familiar - made him home. You were surrounded.

Arthur took your nipples into his mouth, giving adequate attention to each. He flicked and twirled his tongue gently between soft sucking. “You like that darlin’?” He looked up at you with a smug smile, a string of spit connecting your bodies.

You let out a needy mewl in response, Arthur peeling your soaked undergarments off as you did.

Carefully he ran his fingers along your bare heat, swearing to himself. “This all for me?” Before you had a chance to reply, he sunk two strong digits into your pussy.

He smiled down at you while massaging your walls, drinking in the sight of your ecstasy. Arthur kissed you softly as he removed his fingers and coated his length with your arousal.

Leaning over you he lined up at your entrance, dragging the leaking head along the slick folds. “Ready sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling him forward by the hips as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you. He stayed like that for a moment, savoring the feeling he so rarely got to enjoy, let alone with someone he cared so deeply for.

He made his first movements, slow and steady. Writhing up against him you moved your hips in tandem, arms wrapped around Arthur’s broad shoulders, his crumpling the fabric of the coat in his fist.

Arthur’s thrusts became longer and deeper, hitting a part of you you weren’t sure had ever been reached.

“Fuck, don’t stop Arthur,” you cried louder than expected.

“Shh girl,” Arthur ran his rough thumb along your trembling lower lip. “Much as I wanna hear them pretty sounds, I don’t think we want the camp hearin’ em too.”

You exhaled and turned your face away from him, feeling your face flush with heat at his touch. “I know Arthur, it’s hard,” you stated while biting your lip.

“I know it is.” Arthur’s thumb parted your lips to meet your darting tongue, “but yer a good girl…ain’tcha?”

You moaned around him as his bucking picked up pace, rubbing against your clit with each movement. “My good girl.”

Threading your fingers through Arthur’s soft hair and the other grasping his back, you dug into him for support as your second climax began rippling through you. “That’s it sweetheart, I gotchu.”

Whines and quiet expletives landed in the crook of Arthur’s neck, trying so desperately to suppress them as your pussy pulsed around his cock.

Unprepared for the tight, gripping sensation - Arthur let out an unrestrained (and involuntary) groan, stilling himself suddenly to prevent an early release.

Stifling a laugh you ran your fingernails down his back while teasing, “what happened to staying quiet?”

Arthur huffed with a grin, “whatchu expect when ya pull a move like that?”

“Hate to break it to ya but you’re the one who caused it.” You laughed quietly together, rolling slightly in each others arms. It was a relief to be this comfortable, nerves of a first time still fluttering but pushed down by how natural everything felt.

You had never laughed with someone during intimacy before, and Arthur seemed so at ease. Finally.

You felt his chest rumble against yours as he hummed, lips tenderly kissing along your neck. “That so?”

“The way you were moving felt so good, I couldn’t control it…”

Arthur began his motions again, “like this?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Feels…goddamn…” Arthur bit his lip and shivered. “Feels so good fer me too.”

Arthur rested his forehead on yours, bobbing up and down together as he pumped in and out of you. His muscles tensed against you, breaths uneven and motions choppy. “Darlin’ —”

As Arthur pulled himself out you replaced his hand with yours, hard and long strokes above your stomach as he shot hot ropes onto your already burning skin. The soft whines and pants of the hardened, brooding outlaw above you was music to your ears.

Arthur retrieved the bandana from his pocket to gingerly clean his spend off of you, bashful and proud all the same.

Buttoning up and putting back on any clothing that had lost its way, you found your place on Arthur’s chest as he absentmindedly scratched your back.

“Well gotta say, life ain’t seem too bad now.”

You hummed happily into his shirt, “well I feel accomplished then.”

Arthur inhaled to say something but paused to consider his words, “I’m gonna think about everything you said, doll. Make some changes.”

“Most importantly though,” he pulled you closer to him and pressed his lips to the top of your head, “think I owe you a date, don’t I?”

[skzdarlings]

Hii

This is going to be a bit long, sorry in advance.

First off, I was the one asking about your wife- just to clarify, I wasn’t trying to be nosy. I just love knowing that one of my new favorite AO3 authors is in a happy queer relationship.

Speaking of being a favorite author, I’m OBSESSED with your writing. I started with Kingsguard, and the way you wrote Jisung and developed the plot was incredible. (Han is my ult, and finding good fics about him is tough.) Then I read all the others, and then the Bodyguard series, and well, it made me start seeing Felix in a whole new light. (That, and him dropping water on himself at that concert, tehee.)

Anyway, I wanted to ask if you could maybe add some more tags or just a heads-up before the kinky scene in the Bodyguard 1. SM is kind of triggering for me, and even though you wrote it really well and helped me see it from a different angle, it’s still a bit unsettling to jump into suddenly, especially if you’ve got trauma.

Anyways, thanks so much for sharing your work! I can’t wait for the new chapters, but also please take your time and take care <3

hahahaha omg it’s so funny you say that because my wife and i had looked at that ask and was like, this is either a fully supportive or fully homophobic query with no in between hahaha im glad it was the former. yes very happy queer relationship thank you very kindly 🤭🧡

and thank you so much! For both the bodyguard and kingsguard compliment haha idk why i wound up with so much guard content in this blog 🙈 but im so glad you have been enjoying it!

and ah thanks for pointing that out! i was confused at first because that chapter is thoroughly content warned then realized i forgot to paste over my tumblr content warnings on ao3 like i did for the other chapters. total slip, there’s a few moving parts when i post and it got lost in the shuffle. thank you for the heads up and im truly sorry!

i will just also mention to you or anyone else who this might help - because safety for readers is SO important to me as someone with so much sexual trauma myself - double check on ao3 whether authors have categorized the fic as “no archive warnings apply” or “creator chose not to use archive warnings”. the former means zero triggering content whereas the latter actually means it could be full of it but it’s untagged.

bodyguard is tagged with the latter which i always use when I rated M or E. again, as someone with so much baggage i know A LOT can be triggering that I don’t even recognize or consider, and that tag works as a sort of blanket warning and issue of consent to proceed with caution because you might encounter something that has otherwise not been tagged. sometimes people don’t see that tag or misunderstand what it means, but it’s good to point out and remind now and again so we can all read carefully.

thank you again very much, for both the compliments and reminder, I truly wish you well! take care 🧡

[dustyratt]

15 questions for 15 mutuals ❤

I was tagged by @nell-le (thank you!! ❤❤)

1. Are you named after anyone? 

Not actually

2. When was the last time you cried?

I watched a Boston Dynamics video yesterday and swear I had tears in my eyes because of how advanced our technologies become with each passing day 🤧

3. Do you have kids?

No, I don't and don't plan them in the future

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? 

Yes but try hard not to do it in an excessively mean way 😅 I may not be polite sometimes which is a trait I'm working on right now

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

Never played anything. Mostly because of a health issues

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

Dressing preferences! Clothes do not have to be expensive or popular, it just needs to look stylish and organic combined together. The second thing would probably be how the person moves / stand / look at something. I'll get my first impression judging by their movements

7. Eye colour?

Dark brown 💅 Looks almost black most of the time

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies with worst possible outcomes! I've had enough happy endings in cinematography 🤧

9. Any special talents?  

At age of 12 I was making money by hacking a poorly secured online game. Not so special talent considering that all materials allowing me to use that hacking utility were in public but still. What else? My special talent is to scare everybody with thin pale skin and bulging blue-green veins all around my body 👁👁

10. Where were you born?

The very south outskirts of Russia

11. What are your hobbies?

Besides all computer - related stuff you know from my blog I also enjoy reading (mostly: biographical, ancient history, theology, anthropology, archaeology), draw creatures (since I have Photoshop it's in the past) cooking and visiting places of interest like abandoned (or just ancient) buildings, also libraries, museums and churches

12. Do you have any pets?

I've grown amongst domesticated birds - chickens and ducks (we didn't eat them, so they were way more like a real pets). Had two of them as a pets in childhood (raised in my room like a cat or something 😂) , one is still alive by the way despite how many years have passed

13. How tall are you?

Around 180 cm or 5,9 feet

14. Fave subject in school?

English, Art, Literature

15. Dream job? 

Idk? A game designer? A creature concept artist? A lighthouse keeper? A sailor? A scientist? A field archaeologist? A submarine / helicopter pilot? A bodyguard? A defense attorney? -Yes

If you haven't done this ask in your blog yet - this is an invitation! Whoever read this: go and write some about yourself! Tagging is welcomed but not necessary ❤

[dreaming-medium]

This might end up being a super long message so I apologize in advance. I’m a yapper :)

I needed to say how much I absolutely love Animals Without Direction. It’s not even funny how hard this fic grabbed my heart & will not let go. Your fic is what cemented me getting into Stray Kids. Before this, I knew of them, I even had “Backdoor” on Spotify but that was as far as I cared to go. Like 2 ish weeks ago, I ended up reading another OT8x Reader fic before this one just out of morbid curiosity ( I will always succumb

to reading something where the MC has multiple partners, I just eat it up) & the love I had for the author’s previous work & I loved it so much. I read another one after that & I was slowly finding myself caring about these boys through these fics but yours?? I knew I could not go back after reading AWD. I became high key obsessed with how you wrote them & that obsession turned into me wanting to know the real people behind these characters. One of the best decisions of my life, I swear. (I tried to fight getting into them so much but every interview that popped up on my YouTube or edit that made its way onto my fyp would not let me lmao).

The way the boys are written, the world building, the tension surrounding every situation, ect. It’s all so amazing. Even in your Kinktober work, the same thing applies. I rarely read kinktobers bc there’s usually no build up to the sex & I’m left bored bc the build up is always what gets me. Yours are just *chefs kiss* (That Min one has a grip on me. I live for a nerdy boy x popular girl story. AND Frottage?! I’m obviously that girl, they all obviously want me, like it can’t get better than that idk)

I’m going to make one last point & it’s so minimal that you’re probably not doing it on purpose but I just had to point it out. The way you write the reader to have minimal descriptors means a lot to me. I’ll explain: One of the very many reasons that I got out of reading K-POP fics specifically is that, more often than not, the reader was not someone I could identify with & it would take me out of the story completely. I’m not talking personality wise but physical traits.

Ex. I’m black so my MC is always black. If I read that the “reader” is supposed to be “blushing pink”, I 100% know that this reader was made with a fairer skinned person in mind, even if it’s not said explicitly. So the reader I have no longer exists & my mind is thrown out of the story. It’s different if this reader is supposed to be an OC or it’s tagged differently or whatever else, but when it’s supposed to be a character that anyone should be able to place themselves into, it’s a bit upsetting when it’s not. I hope that makes sense.

With your story, that has not happened to me. I could image the reader to be whoever & it fits. It feels like a true “reader x *insert character here*” story as it’s tagged. I’m not sure if that was your intention, as I know a lot of authors do try to have that thought while writing, but it’s something that I appreciate & it makes the reading experience so much better for me personally.

Anyways, this was just a very very long winded way to say that I love your work & I’m waiting on my knees for the next updates 🤍🤍🤍

I am so so sorry that it took me this long to reply to this message, but you obviously put so much care into typing this out so I wanted to return the care I put into replying to you.

First off, thank you SO much for your kind words. Genuinely, it means so much to me that you enjoy Animals Without Direction. Truth be told, when I first came up with the idea, it wasn't going to be an OT8 fic, it was originally going to either be a Chan, Minho, or Seungmin story. But the more I kept developing it in my head, the more I got emotionally attached to these characters I assigned to them.

The character I particularly got attached to was Jeongin as the Squire. He just kept tugging at my heart strings when I would develop little story lines. And then I was also thinking about Felix and how much his character means to the MC and every single one of them came tumbling after.

I can't even stress the smile I got on my face when I read that I got you more into SKZ with my fic. It's SO funny that you would say that because its another OT8 fic that got ME into SKZ.

Tangled by Ao3 user ThisPeachIsDirty got me to look further into SKZ and fall in love with our boys.

THANK YOU for the compliments on my writing style as well! Sometimes I get so worried that I put too much effort into the plot and the story that I forget the romance. Especially with my kinktober series (which I do plan on continuing, life is insane for me at the moment).

(Also, I also love a 'they're all in love with me' trope. i do not care if its not realistic. its my world and everyone else is living in it.)

That last point you made is not minimal. It makes me SO SO happy, you have no idea. Because, believe it or not, it IS something that I actively try to consider and adapt to when I'm writing.

The reason that we read 'reader inserts' is so that we can all feel like we're a part of the story. And it's so important that no person is left out of that narrative.

I cannot STAND how many fics all play on the 'I'm tiny, in 4 feet tall and I weigh 80 pounds soaking wet. I have dainty, tiny, frail little bones and every single person towers over me and constantly reminds me how small i am.'

oh it boils my BLOOD.

I am a 6 foot tall, athletically built, amazon of a woman. Me and my swimmer shoulders are NOT small and dainty.

My best friend is POC. And something she always told me about reader inserts is exactly what you're saying. She would say that she could tell it was written by someone who is not POC. It breaks my heart.

And while I do use descriptors sometimes. For example, i do bend this rule a little with statements such as "at your asymmetrical features", "you're not a tiny person either", or maybe a hair descriptor that may not fit someone. I do genuinely try to keep it all inclusive, because that's what these types of stories are supposed to be.

So THANK YOU for noticing. I'm happy that I could provide something that is well deserved and should not have to be requested.

I promise an update is coming soon. Quite possibly within the next few hours. I'm on a business trip at the moment and if my boss doesn't invite me out to dinner tonight, I plan on finishing the next chapter in my hotel room.

Life is... insane lately. I have zero spare time left with the job I have now.

But I promise it's coming!! it's like 90% done!!!!! Maybe even 95%. I'm trying to decide where I want to end this chapter in terms of the story.

Love you so so so so much. <33333