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elia-the-bibliophile · 15 days

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Sad, Beautiful, Tragic (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)

Genre: Angst Word count: 3,5k

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself standing near the open window overlooking the rolling waves of the Atlantic Ocean.

The salty breeze carried the scent of the sea through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of sand and seaweed. Seagulls soared gracefully overhead, their cries echoing in the distance as they rode the currents above the crashing waves. The sky above was painted in hues of orange and pink, the last remnants of daylight fading into the darkness of night.

In the distance, the silhouette of lighthouses stood sentinel against the twilight, their beams cutting through the gathering dusk to guide sailors safely home. Along the shoreline, traditional clapboard houses nestled among the dunes, their weathered exteriors a testament to the passage of time. And as the waves rhythmically kissed the sandy shore, a sense of tranquility settled over the landscape, wrapping it in a blanket of serenity that whispered of secrets waiting to be discovered.

Your gaze drifted to the locket hanging around your neck, the silver chain glinting in the fading light, holding a childhood image of Max close to your heart. Its familiar weight always been a source of comfort for you.

Allowing yourself to be sweep off to a daydream, memory of him lingered like a ghost. Every time you close your eyes, you imagine the two of you having warm conversations, the words flowing effortlessly between you, as if no time had passed at all.

Reality crashed down upon you, pulling you back to the harsh truth of your separate lives. In different cities, you both woke in lonely beds.

__________________________________________

[Flashback]

The tension in the air was palpable as you and Max stood facing each other, words hanging heavy between you like a storm waiting to break.

"I just don't understand why you're always moving around," you exclaimed, frustration seeping into your voice. "We barely spend any time together anymore."

Max's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as he spoke. "This is my life, Y/N. Racing is what I do, what I live for. You knew that when we got together. Don’t you turn this on me.”

"I know, but it's like you're always off chasing something else," you shot back, unable to hide the hurt in your voice. "I thought we were supposed to be in this together."

His eyes flashed with anger, voice rising as he lashed out. "You'll never understand what it's like to be an F1 driver. The demands, the pressure—it's not something you can just turn on and off as you please."

Your heart sank at your lover’s words, the sting of his accusation cutting deep. "So what, I'm supposed to just drop everything and follow you around like some trophy girlfriend? Is that what you want?"

Max's expression softened, regret flickering in his eyes as he reached out to touch your arm. "I didn't mean it like that, schatje. But maybe if you were more like the other girlfriends—"

Your eyes narrowed, hurt turning to anger as you pulled away from his touch. "I shouldn't have to change who I am just to fit into your new life, Max. If you can't accept me for who I am, then maybe we shouldn't be together at all."

With those words hanging between you like a chasm too wide to bridge, you turned and walked away, leaving Max to grapple with the weight of his own expectations and the reality of what it meant to truly love someone.

__________________________________________

The days that followed were filled with a heavy silence, the distance between you and Max feeling impregnable even within the confines of your shared home. Each moment seemed to stretch on endlessly, filled with the weight of unresolved tensions.

Then, one evening, as you sat alone in the living room with the cats on your lap, Max entered, his footsteps hesitant as if unsure of his welcome.

Max began softly, “Why are we so out of sync these days, schat. Godverdomme, I hate fighting with you.”

You nodded, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. "I don’t know, Max… It's like we're trapped in this hellish cycle we can't break."

Max approached you, his expression pleading. "Have we truly lost our way?”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you met his gaze, the pain of misunderstanding tearing at your heart. "Can you just hold me right now?”

With a deep breath, Max closed the distance between you, his touch gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Come here, mijn liefje.”

As you melted into his embrace, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by the fragile hope of reconciliation. In the quiet sanctuary of your home, you dared to think that things are going to get better.

__________________________________________

You know what they say, the golden days never last for long. And yours turn dull in the blink of an eye.

A few months passed, you couldn't escape the constant reminders of Max's growing closeness with Kelly Piquet. Their pictures seemed to be everywhere, captured in different corners of the world, each one a painful reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

Kelly's job as a model and influencer afforded her the flexibility to travel to every Grand Prix with ease, a stark contrast to your own demanding career as a business consultant in Monaco. As you scrolled through social media, the self-doubt gnawed at you. Had Max found your replacement in Kelly?

You tried to push aside the nagging thoughts, reminding yourself that trust was the foundation of any relationship. But as the whispers and rumors grew louder, fueled by the constant presence of Kelly in Max's life, your insecurities threatened to consume you. Whenever Max have his photo taken, Kelly is only a few steps behind.

You decided to click on a more recent video due to the attention it has garnered. Max’s face appeared, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"And what about Kelly Piquet?" the interviewer asked, a knowing glint in their eye. "You two seem to have become quite close recently. Can you tell us about your newfound friendship?"

Max let out a breathy laugh, "Kelly is really fun to be around," he began. "We share a lot of the same interests, especially when it comes to racing and traveling."

You feel your throat closing up with every word he spoke, but he continues on, "She's introduced me to so many new experiences, including meeting her father, Nelson Piquet. It was an honor to spend time with him and get some feedbacks on how to better improve myself."

As the interview continued to play, each word feeling like a dagger to your heart, you couldn't bear to hear any more.

The interviewer nodded, their interest piqued by Max's genuine enthusiasm. "It sounds like you two have—,”

With a flick of your wrist, you closed the video, the screen going dark as you threw your phone across the room. Jimmy and Sassy, startled by the sudden commotion, scurried away, their tails fluffed with alarm.

Alone in the silence of your apartment, the pain and frustration boiled over, and with a scream of anguish, you unleashed the pent-up emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface.

"Fuck you, Max Verstappen!" you shouted, the words echoing off the walls as tears streamed down your face. In that moment, the weight of betrayal felt almost too much.

As the echoes of your scream faded into the stillness of the night, you collapsed onto the floor, the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. And in the darkness, with nothing but the sound of your own ragged breaths, you allowed yourself to grieve for the love you had lost.

__________________________________________

The darkness of your despair seemed to swallow you whole. The thought of even touching your phone filled you with dread, terrified of stumbling upon yet another headline or photo of Max and Kelly together.

You had moved to Monaco with hopes of being closer to Max, to build a life together. But now, it was clear that those hopes had been nothing but illusions.

With each passing moment, the love you once felt for Max began to chip away, replaced by a seething anger that burned hot. How dare he throw you away like yesterday's news, all because you no longer fit into the life of a World’s Champion?

In a moment of clarity, you made the decision to pack your bags, to leave behind the city that held nothing but painful memories and broken promises. There was no use in clinging to a love that had been so callously discarded, no future left for you in a place that only served to remind you of what you had lost and failed to keep.

As you moved through the apartment, gathering your belongings, Jimmy and Sassy followed close behind, their soft purrs and gentle nudges a silent comfort in the midst of your turmoil. It was as if they understood, as if they knew that you were leaving, and their presence offered a small solace.

Meanwhile on the other side of the globe, Max's anxiety grew with each unanswered call. Every attempt to reach out only led to the cold emptiness of voicemail, leaving him with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Scenes of your last encounter replayed in his mind, each one a painful reminder of the words left unsaid and the hurt he had caused. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that he had pushed you away when you needed him the most.

"Come on, schat, please pick up," he repeated, the desperation evident in his voice.

Growing desperate, Max even reached out to the security of his building, hoping for any sign of your whereabouts. But their responses only deepened his fear, confirming that you hadn't been seen in days.

With a heavy heart, Max realized the gravity of his actions. He had let his own ambitions blind him to the pain he had caused you, and now, he feared it might be too late to make things right.

His hands trembled as he dialed his manager's number. "Get the jet ready for me, I need to fly back to Monaco immediately," he demanded, the urgency in his voice brooking no argument.

"Max, we're in the middle of a Grand Prix," his manager protested, the disbelief evident in his tone. "You can't just leave."

Max's jaw clenched, frustration boiling over as he shouted into the phone, "Fuck that! My girlfriend needs me."

With a determined resolve, Max hung up the phone, his mind set on one thing and one thing only: finding you and making things right. For in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not even all his titles.

__________________________________________

As Max stepped into the apartment, a sense of dread washed over him like a tidal wave. The emptiness of the space seemed to echo with the absence of your presence.

Frantically, he searched for any sign of you, his heart pounding in his chest with each passing moment. But the apartment yielded no clues, no trace of your belongings, not even a lingering scent to suggest that you had been there recently.

The reality of your absence hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless and reeling. The walls seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with the weight of his own regret.

"Where are you?" Max's voice echoed through the empty apartment, filled with desperation. "Please, Y/N, don't leave me like this!"

His shouts reverberated off the walls, each one a plea for your return, a desperate cry for forgiveness. But the silence that greeted him was deafening, broken only by the sound of his own ragged breaths.

"Please, liefje, I can't bear to be without you," he begged, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'll do anything to make things right, just please come back to me."

But his words hung unanswered in the air, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the apartment. And as Max sank to the floor, tears streaming down his face, he realized that he had let the love of his life slip away, and now, there was no guarantee that he would ever find his way back to her again.

Still he will try, dammit he promise he will.

Max dialed the numbers of your closest friends, his heart pounding with urgency. "Hello? It's Max," he began, his voice tight with emotion. "I am very sorry to bother you but… do you know where Y/N is? I screwed up I know but has she said anything?”

There was a hesitant pause on the other end of the line before your friend responded cautiously, "I'm sorry, Max. I can't help you with that."

Max's frustration boiled over as he pleaded, "Please… I need to know if she's okay. I need to find her."

But each conversation ended the same way, with her friends refusing to reveal anything about your whereabouts. It was as if you had disappeared without a trace, leaving Max with no leads.

As he hung up the phone for the umpteenth time, Max realized that he was truly alone in his search for you. And with each passing moment, the sense of desperation grew, driving him to the brink of madness as he searched for any clue that would lead him back to you.

Max reached a point of exhaustion so profound that his body finally succumbed, and he slipped into unconsciousness. A faint memory surfaced from the depths of his subconscious—a conversation with you, a moment frozen in time.

"If you could run away, where would you go?" he asked, the words hanging in the air between you as you lay together, your head resting against his chest.

You drew lazy circles on his skin as you pondered his question, your voice soft with contemplation. "I guess I would go to Rhode Island."

In his dreams, Max found himself transported to a tranquil beach on the shores of Rhode Island, the gentle waves lapping at his feet as the salty breeze kissed his skin. The sound of seagulls echoed in the distance, their cries a soothing melody that carried on the wind.

With a sudden jerk, Max's eyes snapped open, his heart racing with a newfound sense of clarity. Rhode Island. The words echoed in his mind.

Could it be possible? Could you have truly gone to Rhode Island?

Suddenly, the sound of soft footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Jimmy and Sassy approaching, their usual playful demeanor replaced by a palpable sense of sadness.

Max's heart sank at the sight of his beloved cats looking so forlorn. With a heavy sigh, he reached out to them, offering a comforting touch as they nuzzled against his hand.

"I know," Max murmured. "I'm sorry I made mum leave, but I promise we'll get her back."

The cats gazed up at him with soulful eyes, as if understanding his words. In that moment, Max would do anything to bring you back home where you belonged.

__________________________________________

In the cozy living room of your temporary home in Rhode Island, you and your best friend, Lily Muni He who also happens to be the girlfriend of Alex Albon sat together, surrounded by boxes and scattered belongings as you worked to settle in. The soft glow of afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm ambiance over the room.

As you unpacked, Lily's presence brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, her easy smile and gentle demeanor easing the weight of your recent upheaval.

With a sigh, you set aside a box and turned to Lily. "Thank you for helping me with all of this," you said, gratitude lacing your words. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Lily smiled warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. "Of course, love. You know I'll always be here for you," she replied, her voice soft with sincerity.

Taking a seat beside you, Lily reached out to grasp your hand in hers, a gesture of solidarity and support. "I know this hasn't been easy for you," she continued, her tone gentle. "But I want you to know that you're not alone. Me and Alex are here for you, every step of the way."

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the weight of Lily's words wash over you. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice catching with emotion.

Lily’s gaze lingers on you with sadness. "I'll miss seeing you around the paddock," she said. "It won't be the same without you there."

You smiled weakly. "I'll miss it too," you admitted. "But I think it's time for a fresh start, you know?"

She nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get that," her tone gentle. "Just know that no matter where you go, you'll always have a home with us. Alex and I will come visit you any time we can.”

A wistful expression crossed your face. "I miss the cats," you confessed. "I know it's silly, but they were like family to me."

"It's not silly at all, Y/N” she reassured. "They were a big part of your life, and it's natural to miss them."

You offered her a small smile. "Thanks, Lil," you said, the weight of homesickness easing ever so slightly. "I just hope they're doing okay without me."

"I'm sure they miss you too," she replied. "But Jimmy and Sassy are resilient little creatures. They'll be just fine."

You let out a mirthless laugh. "If you meet him, you should ask Max to get one of those automatic food dispensers. He's away from home most of the time, and last I heard Kelly is allergic to cats."

Lily snorted at your remark, the irony of the situation not lost on either of you. Soon, giggles bubbled up between you, the tension of the moment dissipating in a shared moment of laughter.

"Solid idea," she replied. "I'll be sure to mention it to him if I get the chance."

__________________________________________

As the sun beat down on the bustling city of Doha, reporters from around the world gathered outside the Red Bull Racing garage, their cameras flashing and microphones poised. The atmosphere was electric with anticipation and concern, as whispers of Max Verstappen's mysterious disappearance spread like wildfire through the paddock.

In the heart of the chaos, a reporter with a steely gaze faced the camera, her voice cutting through the clamor of the crowd. "Good evening from Doha, where the Formula 1 world is in a state of shock and confusion," she began, her words echoing across the airwaves.

Behind her, a throng of journalists clamored for attention, shouting questions and jostling for position. Camera crews darted back and forth, capturing every moment of the unfolding drama.

"Max Verstappen, the reigning world champion, has gone MIA," the reporter continued, her brow furrowed with concern. "His absence has sent shockwaves through the paddock, leaving fans and fellow drivers alike bewildered."

As she spoke, images of Verstappen flashed across the screen, capturing his triumphant moments on the track. The tension in the air was palpable, as the world waited with bated breath for any news of the missing champion.

Inside, tension hung thick in the air as Christian Horner paced back and forth, his frustration evident in every furrow of his brow. Beside him, members of the team exchanged worried glances, whispering amongst themselves as they tried to make sense of the situation.

"We need to do damage control, and fast," Horner declared, his voice tight with urgency. "This is not how a reigning world champion should behave."

Checo spoke up with a wry smile. "We all know exactly where he went to," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement. "I'm just surprised it took him this long to grow balls."

Horner's frustration turned to bewilderment as he turned to face Checo, his expression a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. "What do you mean, Checo?" he demanded, his voice tinged with incredulity.

Kelly Piquet's sudden entrance into the garage caused heads to turn, her expression mirroring Horner's earlier demeanor. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for answers as she approached the group.

"Where is Max? What was he thinking?" she demanded, her voice tinged with exasperation.

Checo, ever the straight shooter, couldn't help but roll his eyes at Kelly's questions. "As if you don't know," he retorted, his tone tinged with sarcasm.

Kelly's eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with him, a flash of annoyance crossing her features. "What's that supposed to mean?" she shot back, her voice edged with irritation.

But before Checo could respond again, Horner stepped forward, his expression grave as he addressed Kelly. "Kelly, we're all trying to figure out what happened," he interjected, his tone firm but measured. "But right now, our priority is to handle the fallout and ensure the team's reputation remains intact."

With Max Verstappen's whereabouts now a hot topic of speculation among the media, the Red Bull Racing team faced an uphill battle to contain the fallout from their champion's sudden departure.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 drabble #f1 fandom

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paperultra · 7 months

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space cadet.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 831 words Warnings: None

reverie (noun): a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream

You imagine the thoughts in your head as a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea: dense, beautiful, brimming with life and all too easy to get lost in.

They’ve caused you trouble in the past. Countless rapped knuckles, letters sent home to your parents, walking into trees on the way home from school. But how could you resist? Empires rose and fell over the course of an hour inside your mind, mighty beasts swore their allegiance to you and the four seas were yours to explore. The childhood you had in the real world was so dull and lonely in comparison.

When you ran off and joined the Straw Hats, you finally had the excitement you had so craved. And yet, even now, your mind still wanders.

“If you swab the deck any more, we won’t have any left, sweetheart.”

Only a select few can bring you back.

You blink rapidly, the clouds dissipating as you stop scrubbing and look up. Sanji’s already smiling when you meet his gaze.

He lifts his hands; one offers a plate of shortbread cookies, the other a glass of milk.

“I’m going to guess that you haven’t had a break in a while,” he says. “Am I right?”

A break? Sending him a perplexed frown, you lean on the handle of your scrub brush and glance over your shoulder.

The side on which you had started winks back at you from afar, wood gleaming under the afternoon sun.

Oh.

“I … I guess so,” you reply slowly, turning back to him. It’s only then that you register the saltwater washing over your feet and the ache in your muscles. “I didn’t even realize …”

He shakes his head and chuckles, leading you to some nearby crates to sit down. “Too caught up in your stories again? I’m almost jealous that they get to spend so much time with you.”

“I don’t mean to make you worry.”

“Loving someone means worrying about them from time to time.”

He winks, and you smile, flustered.

“I see,” you say quietly. “Then thank you for worrying, Sanji.”

“Of course.” He hands you the glass of milk, then picks up a cookie and taps it against your lips. “Now, this is my best batch of sablés. You have no idea how hard it was to keep Luffy from eating them all in the kitchen.”

“I have some idea,” you drawl amusedly, taking a bite.

The cookie breaks with a gentle snap. It crumbles delightfully in your mouth, sugar and butter dancing on your tongue. A pleased hum rumbles in your throat before you wash it down with a gulp of cold milk.

“What do you think?”

“I think I might eat the whole plate right now,” you say, taking the other half of the cookie.

He grins. “So you like them.”

“They’re delicious.” Picking up another one, you hold it in front of his face. “Here.”

Sanji’s gaze remains locked with yours as he leans forward to take a bite of the cookie, his lips brushing your fingertips in an impromptu kiss before he pulls away. He chews thoughtfully. The action should not look as good as it does.

“My best batch, as I’ve said,” he tells you once he swallows. “But I’ve tasted sweeter.”

You tilt your head. “Where?”

His mouth curls into a smirk, and he places his fingers under your chin to bring your face closer to his. Your noses touch and you can feel his answer against your lips as he murmurs, “Right here.”

The rest of the crew may also have the pleasure of eating Sanji’s food, but they do not share your privilege of knowing just how talented he is at kissing.

He sets down the plate and lifts his hand to cup your jaw, meeting your lips and letting out a soft sigh before pressing his lips more fervently against yours. You can taste the smoke on his tongue, a constant underneath the warm sweetness of sugar and the saltiness of butter. Your eyes flutter closed, and you reach up to cradle the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly. The groan he lets out sends tingles down to the tips of your toes.

“Sweetheart,” he pants, and the longing in his voice would’ve made your knees buckle if you were standing, “I won’t be able to stop if you keep doing that.”

You put your glass of milk down so you can bury both hands in his golden hair. Your forehead touches his. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Maybe it is,” he mutters.

You bring him back in for another searing kiss that Sanji returns just as eagerly.

Yes, you value your time alone with your thoughts. They are a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea, beautiful, countless, and wild.

But as easy as it is to get lost in your thoughts, it is infinitely easier to get lost in him.

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #reader stares off into space and sanji is like. look at my angel. so pensive and sweet and beautiful <333 #meanwhile reader is wrangling with the logistics of surviving in the stomach of a sea cow #they get along quite well with usopp i think :)#anyway sanji and reader are THAT pda couple. guys u can't just make out on the deck for everyone to witness (sanji and reader do not care)

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alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month

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You’re sitting in the backyard of your home, enjoying the warm rays of sun on your skin while listening to birds chirping in the trees and the pop music on the radio. You’re sipping freshly made lemonade, one of your neighbors children had brought you over a bit earlier. It’s a bit too sour for your liking, but you appreciate the work the kid put into making it.

Simon, your husband, had taken your sons, Lucas and Felix, to the airport to pick Soap up who would be staying with them for a few days. You know from secure sources that Soap was one of their favorite uncles despite what everyone else said.

A car door is getting slammed shut, pulling you from your daydreams followed by the laughter of children, your children. The boys must be back along with their father. You smile but stay seated in your lounge chair, knowing they will join you in a moment.

And just as predicted the kitchen door flies open and your children run outside, barely greeting you while stripping off their clothes to get into the pool. They yell their greeting before jumping into the cool water.

“I see, they got their sugar?” You chuckled when you feel Simon’s presence behind you. “Hey Soap.”

“Hey.” Soap grins and presses a kiss on top of your head as a greeting, you two had gotten close after you married Simon, not that you and Spa hated each other before or anything. “And the sugar rush might be my fault, I got them four scoops of ice cream, sorry. But in my defense it’s bloody hot out there.”

“I’m innocent, dear, I told Johnny to not overfed our children with pure sugar, so I hope you enjoyed your peace, luv, it will be a while before you get more.” Simon snorts before catching your lips in an almost bruising but innocent kiss and settles down on the end of the chair you’re sitting on, putting your naked feet onto his lap to squeeze them. “You two! Be careful!” He calls when Lucas, your older son, starts pushing Felix’ head under the water in their playful fighting game.

“Yeah, well, I will stay here, enjoy the sun and that very sour but delicious Limonade and you two can take care of the kids.” You laugh and catch Simon’s lips in a quick kiss.

Now you’re sitting in the sun, listening to your sons laughter while they play fight together with Simon and Soap, Lucas sitting on Simon’s shoulders while Felix sits on Soaps.

#cod x gn!reader #cod x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #johnny soap mactavish

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steddiealltheway · 1 year

Text

Thinking of a steddie neighbor “enemies” to lovers AU. Oh my gosh it’s so long again and now there’s ronance.

Steve is a middle school teacher, and he’s lucky to find a small house that’s close to the school he’s teaching at after the summer ends. In fact, he seems a little too lucky. It’s only after he’s signed all the papers that the old tenets show up to warn him not to buy the house because the crazy neighbor next door.

Steve kind of shrugs it off and thinks nothing of it because he’s dealt with crazy before, and his students give him something new to deal with every day.

During the move in process, he keeps glancing at the dark house next door. Sometimes he thinks he sees something, but whenever he looks there’s nothing there. Until one time when the neighbor seems to get something caught in the curtains and is unable to close them fast enough. But still, it’s only a small slit open and with the sun beating down, the glare is too harsh to really see anything.

For the rest of the day, he doesn’t see a single curtain move. And by the end of the day, when all his boxes are moved inside his house, Steve wants more than anything to just go to sleep on the bed he tiredly put together. Some of the corners aren’t tucked in properly, and Steve definitely doesn’t remember what box he put his pillows in, but he collapses on his bed quickly on the verge of sleeping.

Then, he can see, or rather hear, what the neighbors meant. There’s a screeching noise and then some loud crazy riffs being played from some guitar next door. Steve covers his ears and groans when he realizes that it’s not going to help anything. It’s as if the neighbor is playing their guitar outside the house.

It’s a new era of Steve’s life, so instead of letting it go, he decides he’s going at the issue head on. He groans as he pries himself out of his bed. Okay, maybe letting it go would be a better idea, but what happens when school is back in and he needs to sleep?

This is absolutely the right decision.

As he steps out the front door, he instantly realizes the problem. The neighbor has cracked the window next to Steve’s house as if he’s trying to be a nuisance. Maybe the old tenets were right.

As Steve approaches the front door, he glances around the porch and catches sight of a skeleton sitting on a small chair with a mug attached to its bony hand. Upon closer inspection, Steve notices it’s a Garfield mug which makes him smile a little. Maybe a little crazy isn’t too bad.

But the blasting from the house is bad. Steve takes a deep breath and loudly knocks on the door. The music halts almost immediately and it takes a few moments and a bit of cursing from the other side of the door for it to finally creak open.

Oh Christ.

The door slowly opens revealing longer dark curly hair, pale skin, big doe eyes, full lips, and altogether Steve’s absolute daydream which he guesses might quickly turn into a nightmare as the man smirks. “Hello, my handsome new neighbor,” the man flirts easily.

Steve won’t play this game though. He’s too smart now to open up this easily. His mouth forms into a tight straight line before he corrects the man, “Steve. And you are?”

“Eddie. A pleasure to meet you,” the neighbor replies with a bright smile as he bows dramatically.

Steve nearly groans at the sight of his head going dow-

No. He’s not doing that. That’s a recipe for disease. Instead, he’ll get to the point. “Nice to meet you, too, Eddie,” Steve ignores how nice the name falls out of his mouth as he continues, “It would be even nicer if you closed your windows or turned down your amps this late at night.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and he glances down at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock.”

Steve sighs, “Yes, and I need to sleep.”

The neighbor eyes Steve up and down for a moment. “What if I kept playing?”

Steve has no idea why he says it, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, tiredness from the move, or the fact that his neighbor is a bit overwhelmingly hot. But he answers, “Then you’re starting a war.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say because the tampered down mischief in Eddie’s eyes light up. He holds out his hand, and Steve reluctantly takes it. “War it is,” Eddie says with a shake of his hand. “Goodnight, Steve.” Eddie squeezes his hand one time then releases it. The door is closed before Steve can process what’s happening.

With a sigh, Steve makes his way back to his house. Before he can make it there, the loud music already starts blasting again.

A little crazy is definitely bad.

Nearly an hour later, the music continues as Steve desperately tries to put a pillow over his head to block it out. He’s never been one that’s able to sleep with loud noises, but, no matter what, he will still wake up early in the morning and be unable to fall back asleep.

He groans and turns to the clock he ended up unpacking instead of sleeping. A few seconds until eleven o’clock. He watches as the seconds tick by, and as soon as it hits eleven the music stops. Strange.

But then the music continues again, and Steve nearly screams. But then he realizes… it’s different. It’s softer as if he’s playing a lullaby. And as much as Steve hates to admit it, it’s kind of lulling him to sleep.

It’s definitely not on purpose though. Even from their brief interaction, Eddie doesn’t seem to be the type to go easy when calling war. Maybe he’s just trying to get into Steve’s head.

As the soft music drones on, Steve finds himself drifting off to thoughts about his new neighbor.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve wakes up to the sight of the sun rising and blinding him through his windows. He needs to hang up his curtains. He stretches and slowly gets out of bed knowing he won’t be able to go back to sleep.

Time to start unpacking. He makes his way to the garage and peaks out the window on his way. All of Eddie’s curtains are drawn, and Steve doubts that he’ll be awake for hours.

When he opens the garage door, he spots something… interesting. Something that will make Eddie’s life a little miserable…

A lawnmower.

Now, Steve knows the lawn doesn’t really need to be mowed at the moment. But to get revenge… it’s worth it.

He still waits a few hours until it’s a somewhat reasonable hour for mowing. He doesn’t want the other neighbors hating him. He decides to start up the lawnmower right next to the window Eddie left open the night before.

A few seconds later, Steve sees the curtains yanked open and the window slammed down. He lets himself smirk a little at the mini tantrum. As he’s finishing up the first strip, he hears the front door to Eddie’s house slam shut even over the lawnmower.

Steve turns the other way to face his and Eddie’s houses as he mows the next strip. He glances up and waves with a big smile. Eddie is swamped in a large black blanket and squinting, or rather glaring as if the sun had personally offended him.

Steve stops the lawnmower and takes a minute to gloat. As the noise dies down, Steve asks, “Not a morning person?”

Eddie just frowns at him. It looks as if he’s taking all his brain power to come up with a response. His voice, low and raspy with sleep replies, “I would be if I had a better view.”

Steve huffs but looks down at his shirt that’s already starting to get a little damp with sweat. The morning sun in the summer is overwhelmingly hot, and Steve doesn’t want the farmer’s tan. He winks at Eddie before stripping his shirt off and tossing it at him.

“Better?” Steve asks as the shirt hits Eddie and falls on the deck.

“Much better, thank you,” Eddie says and has the nerve to join the little skeleton on his porch to sit and watch as Steve mows.

Steve tries not to think too much about it, but he’s overly aware of the attention. Not that he doesn’t like it, but he feels like he’s not winning the war. Time to call in Robin for reinforcement.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next few days pass by with Eddie playing loudly every night until eleven o’clock when he finally starts playing soft tunes that lull Steve to sleep. Steve pays him back by one morning mowing Eddie’s lawn while he watches. The next morning, he spends weed whacking his own yard, and the next day is spent weed whacking Eddie’s. Every time, Eddie is woken up but sits outside.

If Steve is being completely honest, the music helps him sleep, so he doesn’t feel like he’s losing the war too bad. But today is the day he figures out how to win because it finally worked in Robin’s schedule for her to come over later.

And after Steve shares the whole story after dramatically telling her it’s too much to share over the phone, he regrets it as Robin bursts out laughing. “You’re telling me,” Robin stops to laugh again, “You’re telling me that you’re complaining about going to bed an ‘hour later,’ but the reason you go to bed early is because you struggle to fall asleep. And his music is actually helping you, so you’re basically going to sleep at the same time. Plus, you’re doing his yard work while he ogles you, and you think this is a war?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what this is,” Steve says seriously. No other explanation.

“No, this is a weird mating ritual. God, your neighbors must hate you,” Robin comments before laughing again.

Steve sighs, “Robin, I seriously want to win against this guy. I mean, I even nicely asked him to stop playing so late.”

Robin eyes him. “Did you really?”

“Probably not,” Steve answers honestly, knowing it’s no use to lie to Robin. She figures out everything anyway.

“Here’s a plan,” Robin says opening a box and looking through it. “Why don’t you just ask Eddie’s neighbor what they do when he plays late at night? They clearly have some solution. And the true way to win the ‘war’ is by letting it not affect you anymore. Then, you don’t have to do yard work, and you’ll be taking away his view in the morning.”

…honestly, it’s a great plan. It really is. So much so that it’ll probably stop this whole war thing in its tracks. “No, I have to win this thing,” Steve replies instead of agreeing.

Robin sighs and grabs him by the wrist. “Come with me.” Instead of giving him the option, she practically drags him out the door. “Now, we’re going to meet this next-door neighbor of the infamous Eddie and give you a reasonable solution before you do anything irrational.”

Before Steve can disagree, Robin has him dragged out the door and two houses down. She knocks on the door. “And maybe you’ll see that the solution was so simpl-”

The door opens and out comes the other neighbor. Steve watches as Robin’s jaw drops as she takes in the sight of the shorter girl with curly hair and big blue eyes. “Hi?” The girl says.

Robin’s mouth opens and closes.

“Hey,” Steve says and reaches out his hand to greet her. “I’m your neighbor two houses down, and this is my best friend Robin. Sorry for stopping by in the evening. She was just telling me that I needed to introduce myself to some of the people in the neighborhood. Right, Robin?” Steve prompts when he notices that the girl is eyeing Robin too.

“I’m Nancy,” the neighbor says with a smile. She reaches her hand out to Robin.

“Robin,” Robin blurts out and takes a moment to shake Nancy’s hand.

The two girls shake hands for an embarrassingly long time. And Steve hates to interrupt for Robin’s sake, but he has to ask, “So, we were wondering how you dealt with Eddie’s music at night.” He cringes as he takes in how blunt he is, but he’s honestly curious.

Nancy laughs and replies, “Honestly, it was much worse before you moved. He would play until the early AMs.”

Steve thinks she must be wrong. Maybe he continues playing that lullaby stuff through the night. “You mean the softer lullaby stuff, right?”

Nancy shakes her head with a small smile. “Not at all. I’ve never heard him play like that before. Then again, my solution is noise cancelling headphones.”

Robin smacks Steve on the arm, “I told you the solution was simple. Plus, this really doesn’t sound like war, does it?”

Nancy leans against her doorway and asks, “Is doing his yard work supposed to be war?”

“That’s exactly what I said! See, Steve,” Robin says with a bright smile that Steve notices catches Nancy’s eye.

“Fine, then you two can see what happens when I don’t do anything tomorrow morning,” Steve says resting his hand on his jutted-out hip. Robin’s lip twitches as she holds back on making fun of him for the “mom stance.”

Robin smiles and says, “Well, I don’t have anywhere to be tonight or tomorrow morning, so I will stay the night.”

“I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep so you can’t,” Steve lies, knowing exactly where the air mattress is packed away.

“You can stay here,” Nancy suggests. “I’ll also be up early to spy on the drama.”

Steve recognizes the exact moment Robin processes what she’s said as her eyes widen a bit. “Promise I’m not a murderer,” Nancy says with a wink that seems to further melt Robin’s brain.

As much as Steve doesn’t want to give Robin more reason to make fun of him in the future, he has to give it to Nancy for how direct she is. He thinks he’s gonna like this girl.

“Well, we’ll go grab Robin’s stuff, and she’ll be back shortly. I’m going to crash pretty soon before the show starts,” Steve says with a smile. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you, Steve. I’ll see you soon, Robin,” Nancy says with a wave as she closes the door.

“Holy shit.”

“Robin, please save your freak out for a few moments when we get back inside my house. She can see you through the windows.”

Robin whispers under her breath a few more expletives on their quick walk back. “Holy shit!” Robin yells as they get inside.

Oh boy.

A few pacing freak outs, a quick pep talk, and a lot of fixing hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror later and Robin is finally on her way to Nancy’s. Steve watches through his window as she makes her way down the street. He has no idea how the hell it happened, but he’s happy for her.

…hopefully Nancy isn’t a serial killer…

Okay, maybe it’s a bad idea, but Steve needs to ask Eddie. He makes his way out his back door and sneaks over to Eddie’s house to the side window that’s already slightly open. He knocks on it a few times.

Eddie opens the curtains and lifts up the window some more. “Why hello Romeo. Why are you at my window instead of the door? Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Nancy and my friend are spying on me. But I needed to ask if Nancy is a serial killer.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment. “Have you met Nancy?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know she isn’t a serial killer,” Eddie replies. “Is Robin the girl you were walking and holding hands with earlier?”

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just trying to get in the head of the enemy.” It’s clear that Eddie is trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing but is failing to do so.

Rather than torture him by not answering, Steve quickly insists, “She’s my best friend. And she’s also staying the night at Nancy’s.”

Eddie sits on the window ledge. “Do they know each other?”

“Just met,” Steve says with a wide smile.

Eddie laughs and Steve can’t help but join him. Gosh he looks gorgeous.

Nope. Enemies. Right.

“I always knew Nancy had it in her. So, Robin’s… cool, right? I’ve got to watch out for Nance’s sake,” Eddie says and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Steve has the urge to tuck in the other side as well.

“Yeah. She’s great. Incredible really. Always has had my back,” Steve says trying not to gush too much. He needs to get out of this conversation fast before he does something dumb like continue it as if they are friends. “Well, I’m heading off to bed.”

“And I’m heading off to practice,” Eddie says with a wink. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve replies and holds eye contact with him for a moment as he walks away.

Ending this war will probably be a good thing.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve wakes up at his usual time, but instead of going to his garage, he starts to go through the boxes he hasn’t unpacked. He stares at the pile and sighs, “Yeah, this is gonna suck.”

A few hours later, and there’s a knock at Steve’s door. Probably Robin bored because nothing is happening.

He makes his way to the door and opens it. Not Robin. “Hey, Eddie. What’s up?” Steve asks, leaning against the doorway.

Eddie is weirdly not wrapped up in a blanket. He has his hands in the pockets of black, ripped jeans and rocks back on his heels. “I was just… checking if you’re okay.”

Steve stares at him for a moment and takes in the slight look of worry all over his face. He nods, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Eddie nods back and glances down. “I was just worried because… you weren’t waking me up with the usual ruckus. Thought something must've happened."

"Just unpacking this morning instead," Steve says with a shrug. Better to play it off as if it's nothing rather than giving Eddie the impression of the feelings that have already started to form.

"Right, well. I'll... head back then," Eddie says with a little wave. He makes it about two steps back before he turns around. "Is this about the music? I'll stop playing so late if it's really bothering you."

This is the part where Steve is supposed to say yes to this, send Eddie on his way, then celebrate. But after four days of this routine and so many nights of restful sleep... "No, it's not... it's not that. It’s um...” Steve trails off at a loss for words. “The war’s still on.”

Eddie smiles but it doesn’t seem entirely genuine. “Ah, getting in my head I see. I’ve gotta hand it to you, Steve, you aren’t just looks.”

Steve watches as Eddie leaves, shoulders tense as he walks back to his house. He catches sight of two figures two doors down waving at him. Robin and Nancy look like they’re huddled together, and shit, if Robin can do it so can Steve.

“Eddie!” Steve yells out. Eddie stops in his tracks and slowly turns around. “How about we make a peace treaty over dinner tonight?”

Eddie’s face slowly lights up with a genuine smile. “I’d really like that.”

“Finally!” A voice that sounds a lot like Nancy yells breaking the moment a bit. There’s loud laughter and a celebratory screech that is definitely Robin.

“Tell me,” Eddie says walking toward Steve’s porch, “How does one deal with loud and annoying neighbors?”

Steve laughs. “I have no idea, but I think my answer and Nancy’s will be very different.”

“Oh yeah? What are your answers?” Eddie asks, now walking up the steps.

“Well, you have to ask other questions first like: Are they one hundred percent your type to the point that you start a war with them that turns into you doing their lawn shirtless just to get their attention while they lull you to sleep at night?”

Eddie dramatically taps a finger on his chin and squints off as if he’s searching for the answer. “I have to say that Nancy... her answer will most likely be ‘no’ to that. I’m not sure though. Maybe we should ask her.”

Steve snorts and shoves at Eddie’s arm. Eddie locks eyes with him for a moment, and Steve can’t help but wonder if he could get lost in them forever. “Eddie?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes out as his eyes trace over Steve’s face and track down to his lips.

“Want to make that peace treaty over breakfast instead of dinner?”

Eddie smiles. “Absolutely,” he says and walks past Steve into his house before he’s invited inside. Steve can’t even be upset about it.

A glance down the street and Steve sees that Nancy is also heading inside but Robin trails behind looking towards Steve. He lifts his hand up and Robin does the same resulting in a quick air high five. They’re going to have a lot to talk about later.

My bday ficlet to you <3

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things #robin buckley #steddie fanfic #ronance

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velvetsainz · 4 months

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summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] the corsican heat causes very particular problems for charles. part of the hot monaco nights series.

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, fingering, brief p in v, mention of oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot be stopped), we're pretending charles can legally drive a boat this size, em dashes, time is a social construct

a/n: you guys wanted to know what happened in corsica, so here's the start to that story. also giant mega jumbo thank you to @lecrep for help with a wonderful plot point which i will not spoil—hehe! enjoy, bbys! xx

You weren’t sure what Charles had to promise Pascale to get you two alone, but somehow he managed it.

It was the summer break of the ‘22 season, and you’d been dating a sweet six months since he’d first kissed you as the clock struck midnight on New Year’s. It had been a small enough party, about thirty or so close friends and their partners—even a few kiddos, to boot. What neither of you knew that night was that half of your shared friends had been scheming to get you two together; despite excuse after excuse about why one of you couldn’t go on a date, finally they’d been able to get the two of you in the same room.

Now, months later, you couldn’t imagine life any differently. It made you think of the future, about forever…

No, you stopped yourself when you found yourself daydreaming, forcing yourself to stay in the moment. You didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, put too many expectations on what was awaiting on the other side of that question. It made everything easier, lighter.

Charles, on the other hand, was head-over-fucking-heels for you. He’d always been a romantic, but something about you—the way you touched him, the way you looked at him, the way you kissed…he found himself easily thinking of his future with you, and he didn’t try to stop himself.

Granted, the way you looked in your sundress as you boarded the boat for a day along the Cosican coast, how could he think of anything but you? The white cotton fabric against your new tan, the short skirt skimming over the tops of your thighs in the most tantalizing way. Thoughts of the dress rucked up around your waist with his head between your legs and hands palming your perfect breasts under what remained of your dress filled his head, eyes glazing over and cock stirring in his trunks. You were trying to kill him, he concluded, and he was as good as dead.

What you had underneath didn’t help anything either. Once he’d gotten you both out to a private little cove and he’d dove into the water to escape the heat of the late morning sun, you decided that it was time to lay out for the afternoon; your master's program had kept you busy enough over the past couple months that you still felt all-too-pale even with your newly-acquired tan. (Not to mention, you swore he kept you up half the night with the way he would pull your hips flush with his own and plant soft, searing kisses on the bare skin of your shoulders and back—you needed the rest.)

Peeling the white sundress over your head and discarding it on one of the padded benches, you’re left in a baby blue string bikini that he swore got even tinier since he’d seen you prancing around inside the villa before you’d left for the marina. Face half submerged, Charles’s hazel eyes watched you like a predator watched its prey as you laid out on one of the cushions on the bow’s sun deck with a book in hand and sunglasses perched on your nose.

He grumbled to himself in broken French as his mind swam and blood rushed from his head to the appendage between his legs. He’d been practically insatiable the past few days, his hands always finding a bare strip of scorching skin where he could get ahold of you before his lips and pouty eyes could take care of the rest.

Thirty minutes passed like that, the Monégasque puttering around in the water before he finally gave in to the siren call.

Padding up the steps from the teak swim deck at the stern of the boat, you could hear as he stalked his way to you, but you kept reading regardless. That was, until you felt a pair of lips pressed to the small of your back, just above the waistband of the aforementioned bikini. It drew a hiss from your lips and a slight jolt as you felt Charles’s cool wet skin press against your legs and his hair dripped onto your mid-back. You whined his name, setting your book face down.

“Oui, chérie?,” he asked in a low voice as he continued pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses up your spine until he was at the juncture between your neck and shoulders.

“Baby you’re cold,” you tried to explain as he sucked a mark into the delicate skin of your neck, your head sagging down and away as you bared your neck for him, “and you’re wet.”

He hummed into your skin, and you could feel the smirk at his lips as the cushion dipped beside one of your hips. You turned onto your side as one of his hands wove itself into the hair just behind your ear, and his lips found yours again as they always seemed to do. But this wasn’t a tame peck, an innocent little kiss—there was heat and tongue and your head was sent spinning off into the abyss as you felt your tummy do that telltale flip while your eyelids felt ten thousand pounds too heavy.

“You are too, ma belle,” Charles teased in a low voice, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide.

Again, a pitiful sound slipped from the back of your throat as his head dipped down to find your neck once more and one of his hands slipped under one of the side ties of your bikini bottoms. “That’s beside the point,” you tried to rebut before he kissed you again, this time pulling the tie undone completely. Oh, how he enjoyed silencing an argument like that…(Meanwhile, you thought it was playing dirty, but you’d allow it—for the storyline of it all, at least…no other reason—absolutely none…)

“Je peux vous aider avec ça,” he hummed in your ear before pulling your earlobe between his teeth, the deft hand on your hip ghosting over the skin of your inner thighs and causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Permettez-moi…”

The honeyed words were like a magical salve to all that ails you, to all the remaining doubts that his kisses hadn’t cured from your mind; you hadn’t had much restraint before, but whatever iota you had remaining was sapped the moment his lust-lidded eyes met your own.

You nodded your head, and that was all the bastard needed as he smirked like the cat that had just gotten away with eating the canary. “So stubborn,” he chided playfully as he pulled one of your legs over his hip and the two of you settled into the cushions in full light of the blue skies above. Thankfully, he didn’t tease you too much as he took to sliding his calloused fingers over the damp velvet of your folds, drawing a soft whine from you like a confectioner pulling taffy in the window of one of the boutique shops you’d seen in Ajaccio.

Your eyes closed once more, head finding the crook of your partner’s neck as he drew the pad of his middle fingers in lazy circles around your pearl and the searing heat of his mouth found yours again. He swallowed every little sound you gave him when he finally sunk two thick fingers into your soaked cunt, curling them against that spongy spot deep inside you. Stars burst behind your eyes at the sensation and your hips bucked in search of more and more and more.

“Charles—,” you whimpered his name pitifully, brows knit together as you concentrated on that tight burning coil in the pit of your tummy that pulled tighter with each stroke of his digits against the velvet heat of your walls.

“Such a good girl f’me, mon ange,” he praised quietly as your hips canted in time with the movement of his fingers and soft sounds of your pleasure melted into the water that lapped at the side of the boat. You weren’t going to last long like this, not with how sensitive he’d made you from his voracious desire to have you falling apart for him every moment he had just enough privacy to do so.

“Gonna—fuck-I–,” you stammered as your thighs clamped around his hand and your body tensed around him like a rubber band pulled taut. Your eyes rolled back and strands of sweat-curled hair stuck to your forehead and nape, your mouth falling open in silent screams of pleasure. Something snapped in the depths of your core, legs quivering while warmth washed over all of you and your toes curled against the back of his calf.

“Tellement belle,” he cooed as he nursed you down from your high with slow, feather-light strokes over your swollen bud, “I’ve got you, chérie.”

Slowly, as you came back to earth from your climax, you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled in you once more, the wet heat of his mouth meeting your own as you tasted the salt of yourself on his tongue.

Pushing him away so you could catch the breath he’d stolen from your chest, you rolled onto your back as your shoulder ached from how you’d held yourself against him. With an arm over your eyes, you could feel the smoldering embers in your belly reignite—you needed more.

“You’re evil, you know that?,” you teasingly mocked as he pulled your half-undone bottoms off your other leg. Charles wasn’t done with you yet, and you had a few ideas of your own now.

“I think I can live with that,” he shrugged smugly as he sat between your legs, trunks pulled down just enough to free his aching cock. Stroking himself one, two, three times, he smeared the precum over his length before sinking into your depths with a hiss and a slew of French curses that always managed to go straight to your pussy.

Within only a few thrusts, though, he was stalling and readjusting.

“What’s wro—oh!,” you yelped in surprise as he lifted you then, first onto his knees and then onto his feet before taking you to the side of the boat and perching you onto the railing. You could hear the warning bells in your mind start to ring, but you still felt like a pile of jelly from your first orgasm to the point that you weren’t in much of a place to argue. Still, Charles could see the hesitancy in your eyes, feel it in the way that you clung to him.

“Je t’ai, je t’ai,” he reassured with a strong hand on your hip and another guiding one of your arms around his neck. You nodded, trusting he had tight enough hold of you.

But oh how that trust was misplaced…

The angle from which he drove into you was almost too good to be true—if you’d have been standing, your knees would’ve buckled at the very sensation. And given the choked groans in your ear, you knew the Monégasque felt the same way, too.

You closed your eyes for just a moment and then suddenly you were plunged into a dim coldness that enveloped your entire form, a stark contrast from the simmering heat of your boyfriend’s body. Thankfully, your instincts reacted faster than your conscious mind, and you emerged at the surface after only a moment under the waves.

Just as your head broke the surface, a large splash came down just next to you before familiar hands were finding your skin—first at your ankle…then your opposite calf…then your hips and small of your back.

This dumb motherfucker lost his grip amongst the sweat and sunscreen and slick of you and sent you over the side of the boat into the crystalline waters below. It was only a seven-foot or so drop, but still, the point stood: he did not, in fact, have you.

A shocked and incredulous look took over Charles's face as he sputtered and stammered, trying to think of something—anything—to say that would make sense of this disaster of a sexcapade.

You, on the other hand, simply laughed. You were fine—shocked, no doubt, but fine nonetheless.

“You’re so fucked,” you laughed as you wrapped yourself around him once more as you knew there was no meaningful way he could drop you now—you were not making the same mistake twice.

“Je suis foutu vraiment désolé, chérie—I-I thought-I,” he stammered, still falling over himself to try and explain the whole thing before you took his flustered face in your hands and pressed your lips together to shut him up once and for all.

“I’m fine, baby—I’m okay,” you soothed, resting your forehead against his. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest pressed to your own. Slowly, he seemed to come back into his body, into his coherent thoughts as the fear and adrenaline of the whole snafu began to fade.

“However,” you started, leaning back from the man, “I will expect some heavy groveling tonight.” You smirked, a slight mischievous twinkle in your eye.

“‘Groveling’?,” he asked in confusion, “I do not kno—”

“Ne t'inquiète pas,” you teased with a knowing grin, “you’ll figure it out, baby.”

And figure it out he did as you came for the third time that night, pushing his head away from your oversensitive cunt as a chuckle rumbled through his chest and over your sweat-slicked skin. You were scrabbling away over sheets now damp with your sweat and release, whine caught in your throat as Charles tangled a hand in your hair at the nape of your neck to pull your mouth to his own in an absolutely fucking filthy kiss that had your rubbing your thighs together like a damn cricket.

“Charlie,” you whimpered as his hand pried your thighs apart once more with your chest still heaving from your last orgasm.

“I thought you wanted me to grovel, mon cœur,” he snarked as his teeth worried into that same spot between your neck and shoulder as before, tongue soothing over the blossoming mark before he ducked his head further down. You keened for him petulantly, hips bucking momentarily as his plush lips wrapped around a taut nipple.

Still, he looked up at you as he released your nipple with a wet pop, and his hazel eyes met yours in earnest. “Do you want me to stop, chérie—enough for tonight?,” he asked, knuckles gently brushing over your cheek and pushing your now-dampened hair away from your face. You could feel his cock, hot and heavy against your sensitive thighs, and you would’ve had the dignity to blush if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’d probably let him do just about anything he wanted to do to you.

“No, I just—,” you started pitifully before a sharp cry of surprise left your lips as he tugged you firmly by the ankles closer to him once more.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet, minette,” he half-groaned with that stupid fucking smirk on his lips while pressing against your quivering entrance before he bottomed out in a single press of his hips that made your eyes roll like a pair of marbles on a tile floor.

You were so incredibly fucked. Literally and figuratively.

final note: i now have a sideblog for my writing, @velvetsainz-writes! follow me there for fic recs, inspo, & all things related to my writing!

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akoyaxs · 5 months

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Tì'eylan ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human!reader ✮ Trope: Friends to lovers ✮ Word Count: 16k ✮ Tags: mentions of sexual partners, talk of sex, size difference, fluff, Aonung's pov (kinda mega horny for her), jealously, lap sitting, accidental stimulation, masturbation (m), slight slight angst if you squint, kissing, biting, munchiness, coming untouched, p in v, nicknames (Aonung calls reader tsawksyul, which means sunlily) ✮ A/N: so I kinda went a little overboard with this one - idk what to tell you - i had a lot to say and ngl had a lot of daydreams during boring classes that i didnt have time to turn into writing till now (>﹏<) Also lol, I'm on holiday w my family rn so writing this at times was quite risky but anyway, HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DARLINGS, I REALLY LIKED WRITING THIS ONE <3

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Never in a million years would you have suspected that you’d end up close friends with Aonung.

When you met him, shielded by the somewhat brotherly protection of Neteyam and Lo’ak, Aonung had been indifferent to you at the very best, and taunting and infuriating for the first few weeks in Awa’atlu.

All it took was a few skirmishes, several unorthodox verbal arguments, and one fucked up altercation with other humans for Aonung to get off his high horse of hazing the newbies.

You weren’t sure if it was Neteyam’s near-death and your inconsolable distress over it, or the closeness of you getting nearly kidnapped by the Recoms (the “pretty traitor” as the had called you left little to imagination of what sort of fates you would have met with the RDA), but there on that empty beach, watching the sun set in the safety of the village bay, left alone or maybe even forgotton, you had found his ridiculously tall form approaching.

Aonung sat slowly and silently beside your smaller, disconcerted figure. After a wordless moment, in which you continued to absently stare out at the empty horizon, he had placed a soft, woven blanket over you.

It was a little rough, but of course he didn’t mean to be. Moreover, it had just been a wordless loan of something quite too large for your human figure – so much so you were practically drowning in it – but the weight was warm and reassuring, as, surprisingly, was his still, quiet presence hulking beside you.

“Thank you.”

Your whisper – feeble and weak even to your own ears – would have been lost in the breeze and lapping waves, but you later reminded yourself of na’vi’s superior senses, as he let out a small sound of acknowledgment, silently noting how shaken you still were.

“Are you alright?” he had asked, following your unspoken rule and also quietly watching the ocean, and more importantly, keeping his gaze from your pale, unnerved face.

“Yep.”

And that had been just that.

No more words had been spoken, not so much as a glance or gesture was offered, but something had changed as the unlikely pair of you sat in ponderous silence, watching the gilded horizon.

You never really discussed the hiccup at your initial meeting (and the period that had followed before friendship was forged), but you never needed to. Aonung had wordlessly conveyed his apology, as had you accepted it.

It is an uncomplicated friendship; time spent together is full of teasing and laughter and often petty argument, and time spent apart is to gather new material to discuss, to scheme up new ways to make the other’s life an amusing hell, and of course to just fuck around.

Which leads to one fact; Aonung is a slut.

You could tell it from the moment you saw him, even before knowing his desirable position in the clan or noting the lovesick-lustful looks the village girls couldn’t tear off their faces when he was within eyesight. It’s not just obvious through his physical appearance (although, admittedly, that is the work of the lord), but through his walk and talk and everything in between.

Even before your friendship, you knew Aonung was off with a different girl every few days, and said girl would always then labour under the deulusion she alone captured the lustful gaze of her future Olo’eyktan – something that always reminded you not to fall for your friend in his hopelessly infuriating slutiness.

It came as no surprise to you when your theory of you friend being Pandora’s biggest slut was proved to be quite true, so you aren’t entirely sure why the outlines of your love life came as quite the shock to the Metkayina man.

“Tell me,” he says with a small, ponderous frown, as though something had just occurred to him, though you knew this look perfectly well to guess what he was about to say was not some casual thought that slid nonchalantly into his mind. “How have you been taking care of yourself?”

You look wearily up from your beadings to squint at him – all stretched out and full of lazy curiousity on the woven mat of your marui. This is how you often spent the warm afternoons in Awa’atlu; you beading or mixing herbs or cooking or something actually useful, while your friend bothers you.

You were still too weary of actually swimming with people, surrounded by beautiful, tall, slim, lithe na’vi girls, and although Aonung had tried to convince you a million times, those bikinis you brought with you remained secretly stowed away deep in the darkest parts of your marui.

Sometimes at night, you would slip out the walkway of your marui into the cool ocean below, but careful that there’s no one around to see. At least it meant na’vi were absolutely shocked to say the least when they saw just how curvy human bodies could get without your flowy clothing.

“What are you on about?” you sigh. “I’m perfectly healt-”

“I meant physically,” Aonung says casually. “Maintaining yourself sexually.”

Oh.

Your friend did have a habit of being carelessly blunt in his manners, but that was one thing that managed to take you by surprise.

“What do you think?” you laugh, throwing off your disconcertion and far too used to your friend - and all na’vi really - disregard for topics very much taboo for humans to be thrown off by the quite personal question.

“Well…” he shifts closer to gage your expression, a small furrow creasing his brow. “You are the only tawtute here, and I’m sure even your kind have sexual needs that must be met. So how…”

“Do I cope when I get horny?” you finished, raising your brows and wrinkling your nose at him. Aonung nods, throat looking a little tight but otherwise unbothered by the delicacy a conversation like this should typically have. “What sort of answer are you looking for, Aonung?”

He blinks, then shakes his head in a puppyish way and you grin.

“I don’t just take care of me myself, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you answer elusively.

You never told Aonung the truth. The truth that you have no shortage of Metkayina men offering to deal with your sexual desires, lost in their own curiosity of human-na’vi sexual experimentation.

And you’d be lying if you pretended you weren’t attracted to them. How could you not be?

Na’vi were nine to ten feet of practically pure muscle, cloaked in beautiful, smooth blue skin and glimmering with pretty glowing tahnì. They were slim and wire, agile and graceful in their movements and talented beyond anything a human could ever possibly possess.

So, discreetly, you would indulge in all sorts of capers. It was, admittedly, a lot of fun.

Sometimes you’d be offered pretty little gifts, clumsily complimented on your human looks and talents, or even simply carried away in heated moments of pleasure and experimentation.

But here was Aonung, nearly your best friend at this point, who just heard your vague answer to his curious question.

You can physically see the moment the connotation of your words sinks into his thick skull, and his eyes widen large as Pandora and his lips part in shock.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you grin, flicking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to sit all tight and pretty and alone while practically stranded on an island of mega hot people, did you?”

Aonung looks as though he very much did expect that, or at least the thought of you fucking other members of his clan had certainly never crossed his mind. In fact, he looks nothing short of stupefied as he stares at you.

“Who?” he demands, an unmistakable scowl settling over his face.

“Really?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Like I’d tell you.”

“Why not?” he asks sullenly, muscles tense and jaw clenched.

“Because I know you, Aonung,” you smile. “And I know how you act around Tsireya with Lo’ak, and I don’t need your stupid ass scaring away my possible companions.”

“Companions,” he grunts with derisive amusement, before his scowl fixes once again and he furrows his brow once more. “You do know I do not see you as a sister, right?”

“Yeah well… don’t tell me that if I share who I’ve been with that you won’t get mad at them.”

Aonung pauses, and you can see he recognises your point; at the slightest mention of a name, Aonung would be up with the guy pinned up bruised and bloodied.

“So you like na’vi then?” Aonung questions. “Even though we’re double your height and could throw you twenty feet?”

“On the contrary,” you say with a sly, amusing grin, “that’s exactly what I like.”

When Aonung’s face slackens a little in shock, you laugh openly and shake your head.

“But who cares if I like na’vi- they’re hot and muscly, so it’s totally justified in my opinion!” you say with a wide, shameless grin. “The real question is why the guys were attracted to me – if humans are so small and weak looking or whatever else you giants think of us, then why would they want to fuck me?”

“That really is a whole other question,” Aonung sighs, rolling his eyes as though you’re being stupid. “But be honest, what do you think of me-”

He’s cut off by your pillow smacking him heavily in the face, and resurfaces to find your little frown a foot away from his.

“Hey, I was honest with you,” you scowl. Lie.

But you weren’t about to admit the truth – that your irritating friend is just about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You try to put it from your mind; those ten feet of pure muscle sculpted to glorious perfection only masked his stupidity and secret superpower of infuriating you with the slightest of comments or even glances.

“And what do you keep in that little book of yours then?” Aonung grins, looking infuriatingly smug.

You set down your beading with slight annoyance now, and you frown at your friend. He’s sat up now, propped back on his hands, head tilted to stare at you with that dangerous gleam that makes you want to question everything, every tone and muscle in his body practically glowing in the afternoon light.

“What book?” you ask wearily, forcing your eyes away from his body.

“You know,” he snickers. “The one you quickly stash away when you see me coming, that you think no one knows about? The little one you hide somewhere in this-”

“If you ever read that Aonung,” you threaten, suddenly on your feet with your face flushed deep deep red. God, what were you thinking trying to keep a diary? You’re an adult! “I swear to bloody mary that I will castrate you and burn everything I chop off.”

Aonung just chuckles, and you scowl.

“If you don’t want me going back to thinking you’re an absolute dick again- leave it.”

And finally he does, reluctantly.

All afternoon you can see him itching to question you more about it, burning with the desire to find out who you had been with, still shocked by the revelation that you fucked around with people in his clan, and he never even knew.

But he knows better than to push you, so he stays quiet, watching you work quietly.

When the sun sets and Kiri drops by to offer you eat with her and Rotxo, you say a quick goodbye to Aonung, who nods and leaves.

“What’s up with him?” Kiri asks, raising her brows at Aonung’s fading back, which is unmistakably tense. “What did you do to him?”

“He just found out about my romping around,” you shrug. “And he-”

“He what?” Kiri gawks, freezing in her steps so you smack into her and instantly fall back onto the ground. “Oh sorry- but YOU TOLD HIM?”

“Yes…?” you say slowly, confused why she’s so shocked. “He’s my friend.”

“So is Lo’ak, so is Neteyam,” Kiri points out. “But you aren’t telling them that you’re going around with-”

“That’s different,” you say quickly. “Lo’ak and Tey are like my brothers, and Aonung… is not.”

“Right,” Kiri says unconvinced.

There’s an awkward moment of silence in which she’s clearly waiting for you to say more.

“He’s infuriating,” you finally burst out.

“Yes he is,” Kiri agrees. She continues in her pointed silence as you move into her marui, until you finally can’t take it anymore.

“Fine!” you snap, face flushed. “He’s absolutely irritating in every way, and now he’s suddenly all caring about what I do in my own time with other guys? WE AREN’T EVEN A THING-”

“Are you sure about that?” Rotxo grins from the other side. “Just think about the way he acts when you’re around.”

“Annoying and cocky?” you huff, but you know what he means.

“Come on,” Kiri sighs, shaking her head at you with affection, “don’t tell me you’re this oblivious all of a sudden. What happened to my friend who used to have half the Omatikaya wrapped around her little finger, who could charm even the coldest of warriors? Where did all your psychicness go?”

“That’s not a word,” you grumble, hiding your unease with semantics.

“Okay enough,” Kiri sighs, pulling you up from where you had just comfortably settled on the floor and dragging you out to the entrance. “No more obliviousness.”

“Where are you taking me?” you moan, lazily allowing her to drag you off through the village, Rotxo trailing contentedly and obediently behind his mate.

“To get you changed,” she says carelessly. “We’re going out.”

Aonung wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he asked you that question. But he sure as fuck wasn’t prepared to hear that his little tawtute was getting her way around the clan.

You were his friend. Once even friend had been a loose term to describe your relationship, but he would be lying if he hadn’t know that from the moment he laid eyes of your small figure – barely even half the height of the Sullys as they landed in Awa’atlu with your curious eyes and strange clothing – that you were his.

But after some time when the two of you had warmed to one another, he had realised that he did not see you in a way that was even remotely platonic.

The reasoning for that was probably that he saw you everywhere; your face, your small hands, your little body.

On nights spent with various other girls, he found his eyes closing and his mind imagining it was you splayed out beneath him, your pretty little face twisted with the lewdest of moans. When, eventually, he gave up on trying to fuck these lustful profanities into other girls, cock in hand in the privacy of sheltered coves or his own marui, he would long for it to be your hand wrapped around his length, to feel your lips brushing over every inch of his body, sinking his fangs into your smooth, soft skin.

He tried to tell himself, all the rest of that afternoon which he spent fuming around his marui before the festivities of that night, that it wasn’t the fact that you were with other guys that was bothering him. You were a free woman, free to do what you liked, free to spend your time on other men.

But on the other hand, the men of his clan were of his clan.

They were Aonung’s people - not just in a metaphorical sense of belonging - they were not as free to do as they liked when Aonung would one day lead them. And they should damn well know better than to touch you.

They had no license to have you, touch you, even look at you.

Had Aonung not made it clear enough - even if you seemed completely oblivious to it - that you were his?

Sure, he made not have had you in that purely carnal aspect that you apparently had shared with worthless spineless skxawngs unfit to be in your very presence, but the way he acted around you, the gifts he brought to you, the way he protected you with all the ferocity boiling within him, even the way his scent lingers on your skin when he can’t be near you (even if your tawtute nose couldn’t smell it) marks you as if not his, then at least definitely untouchable.

So what were these shameless, perverted idiots playing at?

They, more than anyone, should know how Aonung can get when he sets his mind to something. And that one is you, and he’s not about to let anyone else dare lay so much a finger on your smaller body ever again. He’s already cursing himself for not realising all this sooner, letting you waste your time with men could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you. Which is why – when he sees you next, across the fire at a party – Aonung doesn’t take any chances.

It's a pretty typical Metkayina gathering, full of young warriors, hunters, village girls and other various clan members. Flasks of unilpay are being passed around and the air is rich with loud laughter, conversation, and other various drunken atrocities. The beach – cool in the clear night breeze – is basked in the balmy, warm glow of a bonfire. Sparks are flying gracefully up; flaming glimmers among the silver stars of the heavens.

“What were you thinking?” he demands in a low voice, striding straight up to Rotxo and grabbing his friend’s arm to face him. “Why is she here?”

“Kiri thought it would be good for her to come out for a bit,” Rotxo shrugs. Aonung scoffs, far too used to his best friend’s continual obedience to whatever Kiri does.

“I thought you were just going to have dinner, have a little chat, you know?” Aonung grumbles, looking away to scan the party, making sure you were far on the other side and alone with Kiri. “But now you bring her here?”

Rotxo settles back, looking slightly amused amidst his dawning understanding, and Aonung’s hand slowly falls from its tight grip around his arm.

“And what is so terrible about her being here?” Rotxo counters. “She’s been hanging around the village for ages, she’s been to these parties before. What’s your problem now?”

Aonung growls low under his breath. Frustration is starting to course through him. Rotxo knows what the answer is – what Aonung’s deal is, why he cares, why his gaze can’t seem to stop drifting towards you, but he’s waiting for the words to be spoken.

Instead, with a small huff of exasperation, Aonung pushes past Rotxo to approach you.

Through that short conversation that seemed an eternity, Aonung had not missed all the glances snuck covertly in your direction, shot from the corner of eyes and over shoulders and between the flickering flames separating you from most of the festivities.

You had changed since the afternoon, Aonung notices.

He didn’t quite understand tawtute customs, particularly your strange clothes that frustratingly covered so much of your body that na’vi clothing would usually be displaying with confidence and adoration, but he had spent enough time with you to know he had never seen you wear something like this.

He would have definitely remembered seeing you like this.

It’s hard to describe when the style is from a completely different species, but the thought that first crosses his mind is black. It was the first thing he notices after all, the black material cloaking over your body, brushing lightly over your soft skin.

You’ve worn things vaguely in this style before (dresh… cress… dress or something) but they had all been long and flowy and beautiful, yes, but this was so much more than that. It was stupid, actually, that only a change of outfit has Aonung’s heart seizing in his chest, throat bobbing and jaw clenched at the sight of you standing there, unilpay in one hand, the other moving to push your hair from your face.

It barely even covers your legs, and your arms and shoulders are left completely bare except for a wispy black strand that winds over your skin to vainly hold it up from your breasts. From Aonung’s view of you, he feels like just watching you is sinful. It’s wrong, to be seeing you like this, to be thinking these thoughts of you, but he can’t pull away from his view.

He had always known tawtute bodies were different to na’vi (all slim and muscular), and sometimes he found himself pleading that the next day your clothing would not be as flowy and coveraging as it always was, but he’d always beat back those sinful desires with the reminder of your positions.

But now, with the smooth skin of your thighs and slim shoulders and the ample curves of your body on full, glorious display, Aonung wonders how he ever managed to go without seeing you like this before.

You are always so small to him, but every curve of your body, in your thighs and hips and breasts and fuck.

Aonung stifles a low groan at all the thoughts flooding his filthy mind, and wrenches his gaze from the glorious glow of your soft skin under the dancing light of the fire.

And then, in several unconscious moments where Aonung has no clue what he’s doing, in several long strides to get him by your side without the pain of seconds apart from you, he’s beside you. You look up at him through your long dark lashes, and he also notices your lips look plumper and shinier than usual; the smooth rosiness gleaming tantalisingly up at him.

Not for the first time, he has to swallow a furious desire to sink his fangs lightly into your silky lips, and he immediately darts his gaze away – the method he always uses in vain attempts to stem those filthy, forbidden, longings.

“What are you doing here?” Aonung asks coldly, staring down at you from his metre above.

“Same as you,” you shrug. “I’m here to have fun.”

Aonung is not happy to hear that.

His glare moves straight to Kiri, who’s watching his displeased reaction with mingled interest and amusement. Obviously, her and Rotxo have some stupid ulterior motive or plot or something, but he won’t have any of it, not if it risks other guys getting anywhere near you.

But he can’t think of anything to do. If he tells you to leave then you’d doubtless shout at him and be in that pouty, pissed mood that you sometimes get into. And he can’t just flat out voice the truth, not with this many people standing around, not during one of the most unromantic settings he could imagine with tipsy warriors and a blazing fire.

From the moment he stood beside you though, the gazes moved away. Aonung’s pleased to find less and less eyes roving quickly over you, and the ones that do are quickly averted when he scowls at them.

Just as he thinks maybe it’ll be over – that no one will bother you anymore – people start to dance. Aonung had been friends with you long enough to know this was your favourite part of any festivity. You loved to watch the sway and undulation and grace of the na’vi in their movements, the beautiful delicacy of the clothing gleaming under the stars and tails coiling and moving in timely leisure.

And he also knows it will surely be a matter of time before you want to join in or worse, someone else asks you to dance.

So he sits gracelessly down next to you, on that log you’ve perched yourself on top of. The weight of his body suddenly seated beside you makes your little body jolt a little, but you grit your teeth with a small eye roll and discreetly dig your fingers into the bark. He spreads out a little, ensuring there is no more room on the log, with you seated between Kiri’s slim, tall figure and his own broad, muscular body.

Kiri certainly doesn’t miss this gesture (or the meaning behind it), but she hides her small smile with a sip from her coconut. You, on the other hand, are so entranced by the dancing that you don’t notice when Aonung spreads his legs a little wider so his muscular thigh is brushing against your small, soft, slightly squishy one he wordlessly loves so much.

You continue to watch with wordless awe, and Aonung sits, contented with the fact that no one has dared approach yet.

Yet when some stupid warrior – Tsu’kae, Aonung thinks his name is – blantantly turns to stare at you with shameless, disgustingly lustful interest, Aonung decides he has to step it up. Has he not made it fucking clear enough that you are his?

Slowly so he doesn’t attract too much of your attention, Aonung leans back and slips his arm to rest on his hands on either side of his body. This way, you’re closed in between his firmly planted hand and his own body, without any space on the log for anyone else.

When you finally notice Aonung’s stretched out into your space, you grumble faintly about his stupid giant body and his lack of care for personal space, but you settle back to rest your head lightly against his arm behind you.

Aonung tries not to tense, completely unprepared for your comfort against him, thrown of by your soft hair cascading and your face resting gently against his arm, lips inches away from brushing his skin yet your breath ghosts warm and present against him.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper faintly to him, and he tries to ignore the fact that each word is whispered nearly right against his veins, as though your voice is coursing straight to his heart. You shiver lightly beside him.

“Yeah,” he replies in a low voice, throat feeling quite tight and strained; it isn’t exactly easy to scare off any other guys when he’s already about to explode just having you this close.

He feels slightly stupid; you’re watching the dances with awe and appreciation and a distant melancholy, desirous longing, and of course, he’s watching you. With equal ferocity, just excelling past with unbearable, flaming tendrils of frustrated craving snaking through his veins, seizing his heart and freezing his mind.

It’s only when he finally manages to tear his gaze away from you, with the same effort it takes to fell an akula, that he notices Tsu’kae is no longer on the sand amidst the dancing Metkayina. In fact, he’s on the outskirts, conspicuously sliding closer with slimy, transparent steps to get closer to you.

With a fierce stab of selfishness for what is his, Aonung finds his arm – the one caging you beside him – sweeping closer and bringing you with it, so you’re gently slid along the long till you’re pressed against his solid side.

You squint up at him with slight suspicious confusion, and he almost misses that little tense, gleam in your eyes. He can also hear the gentle, warm beats of your heart pick up, but he puts all the possibilities of reasonings of that from his mind to watch with cold irritation as Tsu’kae finally makes his way besides you.

“May I sit here?” he asks, glancing dubiously at the log.

Aonung, with a sudden desire to kick himself for his carelessness, realises to late that in pulling you towards him, he mistakenly left space on the log for someone to sit.

Unfortunately, Tsu’kae misses Aonung’s glower, which was a clear dismissal of the inferior warrior. You, finally, seemed to have some tiny inkling of the situation, because you glance briefly up at Aonung as though asking if Tsu’kae can join you.

The clear answer was no, but Aonung knew you well enough to guess that your unfortunate habit of masterfully ignoring unspoken orders may be about to be practised. Instead, he settled himself on a much more enjoyable option.

“Sure,” he rumbles to Tsu’kae, who looks a little startled, as though he wasn’t expecting to get personally addressed by Aonung.

Before he can sit beside you on the log, Aonung’s reaching over to lift you up and settle you comfortably in his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise to find yourself suddenly lifted as though you weigh nothing. Tsu’kae watches with mingled fascination and strange terror at Aonung’s plain message – you cannot have her.

Yet maybe Aonung didn’t completely think this plan through.

You’d never sat on his lap before, and although he’d often thought about it, how your squishy thighs and curvy hips would feel resting softly over his own would feel, how light and small and delicate you’d be against him, this was completely different.

He can feel everything about you. Your thighs – almost completely bare as the fabric of your clothing hitches all the way up to your ass – are pressed against his own, your skin all warm and soft and so velvety, deliciously smooth. Your body is still slightly tense despite your feigned nonchalance, and he can feel the tightness of your body resting on his.

And he can smell you. It’s warm, just a comforting, familiar scent that he spends all day breathing in, memorising and filing away into the back of his mind where, in the shelter and privacy of his own marui in those helplessly longing night, he can build up that image of you in your imagined lewd actions for him and to him. There’s something over the top of it, something new and flowery you must have just applied for tonight.

He has to fight a physical urge to just bury his entire face in the warm of your neck – your soft hair falling around him – and simply scenting you to the point everything else just completely ceases to exist and with his eyes closed and heart thumping, all that surrounds him is you and your warmth.

It takes Aonung a moment to remind himself where he is, surrounded by everyone, sitting beside the still-gaping Tsu’kae. To remind himself that it isn’t just the two of you alone, and especially that you are only friends, and it would probably be a little surprising if he finally just succumbed to all the filthy desires that suddenly seem a thousand times stronger than usual.

You’re finally relaxing on his lap, muscles untensing and breath coming in soft nature. The only downside is that when you loosen a little and stop sitting like there’s a splint to your spine, the soft curve of your ass, barely even covered by your clothing now, settles inches away from his crotch.

Aonung has a small surge of panic when his blood rushes south, but he just masks his soft groan as a hum of appreciation for the dance.

Eywa, he really didn’t think this through.

Never once had he taken the warnings of his mother, father, sister and basically the whole rest of the clan to heart – never once accepted that one day, his impulsivity might have consequences.

But the thought of what you might do when you realise how hard your so called “friend” is by you simply sitting on his lap is too much to bear.

What if you think he’s some crazy sort of desperate perv? What if you never see him the same, and everything is ruined and awkward and dangerous between the two of you? What if you tell Neteyam and Lo’ak and they beat the absolute shit out of him for acting like this?

Fuck.

From the corner of his eye – Aonung’s too scared to move enough to properly turn his head – he can see Tsu’kae all awkward and stupid and helpless. It should now be quite obvious his position in this situation; that he has no place here, anywhere near you.

Now getting over your surprise of being suddenly nestled in your friend’s lap, you’re starting to settle back. You’ve rested yourself against his chest, and he grits his teeth, jaw clenched and fangs sinking lightly into his lip.

Your hair is pillowing your head lightly where it rests, barely even at his chest and right below the fang of his necklace. Your back – nearly completely bare with the low cut of your soft clothing – is settled firmly against his abs, and the warmth your skin on his is oddly comforting, mollifying his slight ferocity.

The soft, sweet scent of you is closer now, more obvious below whatever that other flowery smell you’re wearing is, and Aonung tries his best to keep his breathing even so you won’t notice how he’s breathing in your scent.

But trying to act like just the proximity and scent and feel of you isn’t getting him hard is more difficult than it looks, and Aonung strains his brain to think of ways to delay the inevitable of when you finally notice the ever-growing tent in his tewng.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Tsu’kae offers after a moment of tense silence that you don’t seem to notice. Aonung wonders faintly if your human senses just don’t pick up this sort of tension, or maybe you really are just infuriatingly, endearingly oblivious.

“Yes, thank you,” you say, shifting to give him a little smile.

A fierce stab of strange jealously blossoms like fire inside of Aonung, suddenly scorching his veins and he has a sudden desire to smack that returned, almost-shy-to-hide-his horniness smirk off Tsu’kae’s face. He probably would have, had you not leaned back against him and shimmied your soft ass to lay right over the ridge of his hardened cock.

Aonung gives a sudden jolt, nearly tossing you unceremoniously from his lap and even more mortifyingly - accidentally grinding his tented, straining tewng against the curve of your ass.

There’s a moment in which Aonung thinks you are about to scream at him, turn and curse him out for his lewd state. He can hear your heart pick up suddenly, see the tips of your small, roundish ears go slightly pink, watch a flush creep along back of your neck.

“Do you mind?” you grumble. “If you’re going to try cockblocking me, at least don’t nearly throw me around. I was perfectly comfortable, you bumbling skxawng.”

Aonung blinks in sluggish silence, your words sinking into his brain till he realises with an overwhelming surge or relief that you didn’t notice. Eywa, he’s never been so thankful of the simplicity of human anatomical function.

“I’m not trying to cock block you,” he says instead, and you scoff.

“Please,” you say stoutly, and Aonung can just imagine you rolling your eyes in that amused way you always do. “You really have no idea how conspicuous you are, dumbass.”

“I am not,” Aonung says with a frown, ignoring the human name he doesn’t understand. “Besides, you could do much better than the likes of Tsu’kae.”

“Really?” you say coolly. Aonung suddenly can’t picture what your face looks like; your tone is completely unreadable as though you’re trying to make it even, hiding whatever you’re actually thinking right now. “And what is so terrible about Tsu’kae?”

“He’s dim-witted,” Aonung points out. “Slow, unreliable, terrible at spear throwing-”

“Ah yes,” you interrupt, “everything I look for in a hook-up; his spear throwing abilities.”

“And he’s obviously just horny,” Aonung adds, ignoring the now painful tent in his tewng and the heavy irony of his words. He looks pointedly across the party, and you follow his gaze to see Tsu’kae standing with his friends, drinking heavily from a flask, getting a few hyping smacks from his mates as they no doubt discuss you.

“So someone would just have to be horny to fuck me?” you huff, turning your neck to glare at him. Aonung bites down a small groan as you accidentally shift on his crotch. “There’s nothing else endearing about me, it would just depend on their arousal?”

“No,” Aonung says quickly, but your scowl is deepening the longer it takes for him to find the right words – ones that don’t give away his own… excitement. “There is nothing wrong with you-”

“Who said anything about there being something wrong with me?” you snap, brows furrowing and face now torn between fury and something he can’t quite make out.

“No one- nothing- what?” Aonung stammers, confused at why you’re suddenly so upset. “You are just far too good for Tsu’kae. He does not deserve your time.”

“Then who does?” you ask sullenly, slightly folding into yourself, yet you still don’t pull away from your seat in his lap. “What about Sokzu-”

“He is arrogant,” Aonung shoots the idea down.

“What about Ta’ru-”

“Incompetent,” Aonung interrupts again.

“Or Kayo-”

“Lazy-”

“Zäki?”

“Seriously,” Aonung says firmly, now frowning too. “Do you seriously think any of these skxawngs are worth your interest?”

Your mouth twitches at his words, though he still has no fucking clue what you’re thinking.

“What are you trying to say, Aonung?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully.

You’re still looking up at him, eyes large and shimmering in the light from the fire and scattered stars. Aonung swallows, gaze darting quickly down to your glossy lips before fixing back on your face. He can’t look away.

“I brought you unilpay,” a voice interrupts.

You both turn to see Tsu’kae standing there, looking a little rumpled and disorientated. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he’s drunk now, and Aonung doesn’t fail to notice your nose scrunch for an instant before you smooth out your face and take it with a small smile and a thank you.

Completely oblivious and obviously stupid, Tsu’kae continues to stand awkwardly, before he seems to gather enough courage to ask, “Would you like to come for a walk, tawtute?”

Instantly, Aonung’s blood has turned to ice. He doesn’t even look at you before snapping, “She’s good.”

Tsu’kae’s face falls in a small frown, and he, – stupidly – drops his own flask on the sand to clench his fists.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he slurs. “I was talking to her.”

“And I gave you an answer,” Aonung counters, eyes narrowing at the disrespect this meager warrior is displaying. “She’s not going to go anywhere with you.”

Again, Tsu’kae fails to pull himself together and show the proper respect. He steps closer, face pulled into a little frown as he raises his brows at Aonung.

“And what are you going to do to stop her?” he leers. “If she wants to come?”

“Do you want to go?” Aonung asks you, a small furrow between his brows as he looks down at you. You’re all wide-eyed and wordless, eyes darting between Aonung and Tsu’kae who scowls.

“Of course she want-”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Aonung hisses through gritted teeth. “Do you want to go with him?”

Your lips part. You don’t seem to have any answer to give, and you just stare blankly at Aonung, still seated in his lap. Finally, Tsu’kae’s drunken patience seems to have run out, and his hand closes around your tiny wrist.

“Come on taw-”

You’re no sooner pulled helplessly off Aonung than he’s on his feet, then finding his fist sinking satisfyingly into Tsu’ake’s jaw. The stupid warrior lets out a surprised grunt and stumbles back, dragging your little figure with his weight.

“Let her go,” Aonung says coolly, reaching to grab your other arm.

It’s a little awkward, and you’re wincing slightly at the grip of each arm clutched by the two men. People are starting to turn and stare now, and you’re struggling to free yourself.

“Now,” Aonung adds.

Reluctantly, Tsu’kae lets go of your wrist with a frustrated huff, and you flinch at the angry red mark on your skin from where he touched you. Aonung’s heart thuds irately at the mark, and he gently pushes you behind him.

“Touch her again,” Aonung hisses, stepping closer to hide your nervously watching figure, “and I kill you.”

Tsu’kae just laughs, before making to shove Aonung backwards. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t shift in the slightest, and Tsu’kae stumbles into Aonung, who grips the skxawng by the back of his neck. Instantly, Tsu’kae winces away, averting his eyes and vainly trying to get away.

“Pathetic,” Aonung says coolly, pulling him up to study him further. “You actually thought you’d get to have time with her.”

Tsu’kae lets out a small hiss and brings his fist up to smack into Aonung’s cheek. It isn’t particularly painful, but a blow is a blow and Aonung tosses him to the side. He slams unceremoniously into the sand, where he’s met with small stifled laughter and disapproving glances. You’re still gaping at Aonung, who gently kneels beside you.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. You nod, eyes raking over his face before your fingertips reach out to trace lightly over the mark of Tsu’kae’s laughable punch. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

No one else makes a noise, but Aonung can feel all eyes on your retreating backs as he leads you away. He can still feel the burn of disbelieving attention on him as the party fades away and the woven walkways of the village come into view. More importantly, he can feel eyes on you, and, desperate to make sure you don’t feel uneasy, he places a wide hand on your back to lightly steer you in front, out of the way of prying eyes.

When he drops you off at your marui, it’s with a strange ache in his chest.

You look tired and the gloss of your lips is nearly completely gone now. You smile up at him at the entrance, but when he turns to leave, he can sense your drunkenness. Not for the first time, he curses how strong na’vi alcohol is to you, and before you know what’s happening, he’s turned back and steered you all the way into your marui and laid you down on the bed.

“Here,” he instructs, handing you a small flask of water. “Drink this before you sleep.”

“You’re looking after me,” you smile stupidly. Aonung wants to kick himself for not noticing how tipsy you had been in the distraction of everything, but he just rolls his eyes at your dopiness.

“Well, I didn’t go to all this trouble tonight to just leave you like this,” Aonung says wearily, reaching for one of those black stretchy things you use for your hair and clumsily tying it back for you. “Eywa, you’re just going to have to sleep in this.”

“I wanted to look pretty,” you mumble softly, a small furrow forming between your brows.

Aonung could have sworn those words could have punched the breath out of him – and he fights down a desire to tell you just how pretty you look, how you always look.

Instead, he just gently pats your forehead and whispers, “Just get some sleep.”

You nod obediently, never taking your eyes off his face as he fusses about, straightening your bed, making sure there’s water beside you. But when he turns to leave, you softly whisper out his name.

Aonung turns back. You don’t say anything, just continuing to stare at him. It’s a tense moment of silence, until you finally sigh.

“Goodnight,” you whisper. Aonung doesn’t reply, just giving you a soft smile.

It’s not until Aonung’s back in his own marui, flopping down onto his bed with a groan, does he remember exactly what had happened.

It’s filthy and humiliating, that the second he remembers the moment – the scent and the proximity and the feel of you seated in his lap – his tewng is growing stranglingly tight once more.

This has happens much more than Aonung would ever readily admit. He tries his utmost to not even think about it. But once more, he can’t help but palm himself lightly through the thin fabric of his tewng that has put up quite the struggle tonight.

Eywa, just the thought of you at that party – hair flowing over your bare back, the glow of your skin and the softness of your thighs, breathing in your warm sweet scent, the same one that’s now slowly fading from his skin that you had been so gloriously pressed against.

Fuck.

Really, who is this hurting? he justifies himself as he impatiently tears away his tewng. It’s just to take the edge off. It doesn’t mean anything.

Filthy. Lewd. Wrong.

But he can’t bring himself to process all the copious issues of what he’s doing when everything about you is fresh in his mind, stuck in his mind, and using that young horny man logic that dubiously validates each of these moments, he lets himself sink into those coarse imaginations.

There’s a million of them, layered on top of one another, flooding and racing through his mind.

Ones in which you’re squirming under him, ones in which your soft thighs are nestled tightly around his face. Ones with your head thrown back as you top him, ones where you’re arched against the floor, tears streaming down your sweet, pretty little face as his hips rut into your own.

When he accidentally tightens his grip around himself, he imagines just how much better your hand would feel around his length, all small and silky and smooth.

There’s something just so filthy about this.

You are his little friend - his - but what would you be thinking if you knew he did this?

Even so, he can’t help remembering just how right it felt to have the soft curve of your ass nestled right up against his crotch, and then he’s speeding up with helpless, lewd desperation.

Your lips, all glossed and plump and parted to glorious perfection swim in his mind as he fails to stifle a sharp groan. The thought of them brushing over his own, over his chest, wrapping light and tight and warm around his length does him in with searing speed.

His release, spilling hopelessly and copiously into his tightened fist, blazes with the hot shame of it.

Aonung has felt this familiar embarrassed self-disgust before, quite a familiar after effect of these nights filled with thoughts of you, but this just feels so much… more.

Your words come to cross his mind again; “Why would people be attracted to me?”

The real answer is how could anyone fucking not be.

But that wasn’t entirely satisfactory, because Aonung was fully prepared to murder anyone who had the foolish balls to pursue you.

His little friend.

That same blazing shame doesn’t go away after a restless nights’ sleep.

Aonung wakes up, amidst the unwelcome sunlight filtering into his marui, to find that he can’t bring himself to face you quite yet. Of course, it’s just his luck that when he drags himself up to deal with the impatient hammering at his entrance, he’s met with you.

“Morning!” you say chirpily, which tells him clearly that you’ve mostly forgotten the events of the night before. “Tsireya’s forcing me to come to the beach, and I refuse to go without you.”

Aonung’s about to make some lame excuse, based loosely of his clan duties and his tiredness, but then your words process.

“You will go swimming?” he asks dubiously.

“Yup.”

And that does it.

Aonung has been trying to get you to come swimming for months, and he has to fight that little twinge of jealousy that it’s Tsireya that finally managed to convince you. However, when you bound away to where Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are waiting, Aonung finds himself following thoughtlessly.

You’re chatting animatedly with Kiri and Neteyam, and Aonung allows his eyes to quickly wander over you as he trails behind the group.

You’ve changed out of your short black clothing, though Aonung is delighted to find that once again, you aren’t hiding as much of your body as you typically do.

The little shorts you are wearing are just that. Little. They barely stretch over the curve of your ass, and ties of bikini bottoms are poking up out of the low waist. The top you’re wearing – a simple white tank – is also perfectly tight enough that Aonung can see the faint outline of a triangular bikini top.

The part that nearly makes his knees buckle is the slim line of your stomach visible between your top and shorts, where he can see the perfect soft squidge of your figure, and the little jiggle of your thighs with every step you take.

When you make it down to the beach, sun warming your skin and the soft ocean lapping against the sand surrounding you, you manage to surprise him further.

You don’t follow the others immediately into the water. You unbutton those little shorts and shimmy them down your body, before reaching up to tug off your top.

Oh.

Fuck.

You really had been right; Aonung had no idea how conspicuous he was.

Suddenly, after all that training of mastering himself, he simply cannot wrench or drag or tear his gaze away from you. Instead, he stands awkward and gaping like an idiot at the sight of you almost completely bare.

After so long of needing his imagination to picture you like this, seeing your body this gloriously bare could damn well killed him. In fact, Aonung’s sure even with your tawtute senses, you would surely know his heart just stopped, his blood heating, his brain stalling.

But you just shoot him a cheeky, knowing grin before innocently asking, “What?”

“Nothing,” Aonung clears his throat, painfully aware of his flushed face. “Should- uh – should we get in?”

You just roll your eyes at him and race in. He doesn’t watch the sway of your body as you slowly go into the water. He doesn’t need to resist the urge to just pick you up again, maybe even help you with your breathing.

He supposes he should be impressed with your swimming, but your size and ill adjustment to swimming in the ocean – especially beside na’vi – slows you down, and eventually he ends up just offering you a hand. He highly suspects that you’re not even swimming, just allowing yourself to be pulled leisurely through the water, but he isn’t going to complain.

You have this adorable little look of awe on your face, as though you thoroughly regret only now coming swimming after months of being begged to. Aonung faintly wonders why you never did come.

After a while, you all swim back to the shallows. The Sully’s, Rotxo and Tsireya are all running and splashing around, and Aonung notices you struggling to tread water (he notices with a small smile that you can’t reach the bottom).

“You good there?” he grins, wading over to you.

“Yep,” you huff, kicking up to keep your head at least above the water.

“Need a hand?” he snickers. “You look like you’re having a little trouble. Do yo-”

“Just get over here skxawng,” you grumble.

The moment he’s in arms reach, you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled your legs tight around him. You huff a little for breath, resting your face in the crook of his neck, warm breath fanning across his sensitive skin.

Tsireya looks over, and she shoots her brother a small, knowing smile. Aonung just rolls his eyes back, but he finds himself shifting you around his body so he can somewhat cradle you – your body wrapped around his side, supported lightly by one of his arms.

“You know,” Kiri says with delicate mirth, “we should be heading back soon, right Ro?”

“Yeah,” Rotxo agrees, looking equally happy at the sight of you (even if unintentionally so) cuddled against Aonung. “You coming Neteyam?”

“We’ll come too,” Tsireya grins, tugging Lo’ak along behind her.

You watch them all go, still slightly breathless. Aonung has a small suspicion you know exactly why they’re leaving, but you make no effort to shift away from him, and you wave them off.

Tsireya has to give Lo’ak and extra hard tug to pull him away. The Sully boys’ brotherly protection has always been a reason Aonung kept the truth away from you, but he thinks at this point he really just is completely conspicuous.

“Are you alright?” Aonung asks, pulling back slightly to push your head from your face.

And suddenly, he notices something.

There’s none of that fierce, bantery spark that blazes between your eyes. Instead, you’re just staring at him with complete and utter… something.

Aonung has never wanted more that you had a tail and na’vi ears so he can better gage your thoughts, but you’re just completely unreadable.

Your eyes are raking over his face; he can feel their trail burning into his skin as though you were physically touching him. You’re inches away.

He clears his throat.

No no no.

Eventually, you tread out of the water to stretch in the soft sand cast into relieving shade, beneath the shelter of the tropical canopy. Aonung lies down beside you, throat feeling strangely tight.

There is something different. Something off.

And there’s a sinking feeling that tells him things just won’t go back to normal. Which is why he decides he needs to settle this out.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says quietly, staring up at the canopy above.

It’s green.

You give a little hum of acknowledgement.

“What for?” you reply quietly.

“For causing a little scene,” Aonung says quietly.

He counts seventeen little pink flowers in the tree above.

“Right.”

“And cutting you off,” he adds in a mumble.

He thinks there might be several birds hiding between the spindly, delicate fronds.

You don’t reply. He still doesn’t risk a glance at you.

“And for upsetting you.”

There’s another moment of silence. Aonung swears you must be able to hear his heartbeat. You exhale slowly.

“I’m not upset,” you say quietly.

Aonung turns to look at you. You’re also looking up at the canopy, wet hair spilling over the sand, body glittering with the droplets of water still shining on your skin. You swallow.

“You aren’t?” he asks, trying not to sound too relieved. You shake your head slightly, still not turning to meet his gaze.

“Nope,” you sigh, wearily popping the p. “It’s just- um… why did you do it?”

“Do what.”

“The whole thing,” you say, gesturing in front of you. “Of protecting me and making sure I didn’t make a mistake. Plus the… the um…”

Aonung stares in disbelief. He’s never seen you go this long without loudly and shamelessly voicing your opinions. The struggle to get out a single sentence is really quite unnerving for him.

“The whole kill him if he touches me thing,” you blurt in a quick breath, face flushed and eyes refusing to meet his.

It’s Aonung’s turn to blink. He does so in owlish silence, watching the light filtering contentedly through the canopy above while his mind works furiously to find a legitimate answer to your question.

“You are small,” Aonung says finally, carefully tiptoeing around the truth, but really, any more time to think is quite unacceptable given the length of his ponderous silence. “And delicate and sweet. I do not wish anyone-”

“I am not weak,” you interrupt, a small frown on your sweet little face. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He swallows heavily. Those words feel suddenly painful in his chest.

That’s who he was – he protected you, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was the one that stood by you, stood over you, and that warmth and shade he cast over you meant so much more than you thought.

Eywa, how well he could protect you if you let him.

You must have noticed how those words hit him – how his ears drooped and tail swept dejectedly through the sand.

“Aonung?” you say quietly, propping yourself up on one arm and staring at him. “Is there something bothering you?”

“No,” he says, far too fast to be believable. Your mouth twitches in a wry smile, and you scoot closer.

“You always were a terrible liar,” you whisper. At Aonung’s bitter little huff, your smile widens slightly, before fading entirely. He wants to do anything to bring it back. “At least - you could never convince me.”

“Fine,” Aonung mumbles, resigning himself to the fact that there’s no going back.

He knows you know something’s wrong, and he can tell that this friendship is already crumbling away into something else – something unintelligible and unfathomable to him.

“They are not fit for you, tsawksyul.”

You flinch back, and Aonung wonders faintly if it’s because of the name, or his words, or the harsh desperation with which he spoke them, and he reaches slowly for you. You lean back from him, face twisted with confused hurt.

“Then who is?” you say dully.

“Not anyone here,” Aonung tells you.

Once again, he has no idea how to gage your feelings. It’s strange really, that he’s gone from how lustful and filthy he was last night to how just overwhelmingly… fluffy he feels right now.

But apparently you aren’t finding his words how he intended them, because your face is twisting in a very obvious scowl.

“So… I don’t get anyone,” you say.

Aonung isn’t stupid, he sees the way your eyes are narrowing to indicate the very clear correct answer to your trembly question, but then again, he is stupid when it comes to you.

“You don’t need anyone.”

Instantly he knows that was the wrong thing to say. Your chest seems to swell and your face flushes as you sit upright and glare at him.

“Right,” you snap.

“Have I upset you?” Aonung asks slowly, wondering what he did when his brain feels as though it’s made of jelly.

“Nice observation sherlock,” you huff. “You’d want me to end up all sad and alone with no one to love me, just so I don’t fuck some of your clan mates? What, are you jealous or something? Do you think that you’d be that much better?”

No sooner are the words from your mouth then Aonung’s body betrays him – reacting before his mind can process. But the way he flinches back and flushes makes you freeze, and your eyes widen.

“Well…” he stammers, trying to dig himself out of this stupid hole he got into. “Yes?”

“And why is that,” you huff, standing up on your little legs, barely at his height and fist balled with rage. “You really think you’re that much better than everyone else? I thought you got over your cocky entitlement phase but now here you are, desperate to show that you’re the biggest, hottest thing in the clan.”

Aonung’s brain is too muddled to think. This is all going so, so wrong.

“No!” he says quickly, so desperate to try and speak properly that his voice comes out as something of a shout. You look shocked for a moment, flinched back from him, and he instantly reaches towards you. “I’m sorry-”

“You know,” you say stiffly, stepping out of his reach, “I thought you weren’t like this anymore. God, I wasted so much time, and you only ever started noticing me in this way when you found out I – as an adult woman by the way – was not some little … celibate fucking nun!”

“In what way?” Aonung asks, confused.

You let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a furious growl, then let out an unnerving laugh.

“Are you fucking serious?” you snap. “You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met! I thought we grew up, that not everything would be a competition and we could have a mature friendship if we could never be… UGH! But you are genuinely the most infuriating, entitled, interfering, emulous ass I’ve ever had the misfortune to befriend! I mean what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Aonung says, frowning.

“Well there obviously fucking is if I love you!”

You freeze. So does he.

Your words – irrevocable, irreversible and so gleamingly inescapable hang in the still, tense air.

The beach is completely empty albeit the faintly lapping waves and drifting shade of the trees, and of course those words. The ones that change everything, break everything, ruin the friendship you have spent years building.

Aonung just sits in dumbfounded, perplexed silence. Breath after breath. He seems to have forgotten how to breathe, and in the strange, almost reminiscently ironic moments he takes to try and figure it out, you’ve turned faintly green, flushed deeper than the flowers above you, then paled in blunt mortification.

“Oh god,” you whisper, covering your face when your brain kicks in and you remember to move. Aonung still hasn’t said anything, and even though he can see that’s breaking you, he just isn’t able to speak. “Please… say something skxawng.”

Silence.

“Oh god,” you say again, shaking your head, lip trembling slight. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m just going to-”

“I love you too.”

“Please just forget- wait what?”

There’s a moment when everything stops. The sea seems to stall, the wind dies and the canopy stiffens. Aonung notes that your hair is still being blown gently in some absent breeze.

Your eyes look slightly red and slightly wet and your lips are parted in surprise. The longer Aonung stares at you, the deeper that little frowning furrow between your brows grows. He’s vaguely aware of his heart thumping – so loud and fast that under different circumstances, he may have even been worried about it – but he can’t summon any thoughts into his brain.

“Since when,” you whisper. Your voice is nothing more than a trembly breath, and if Aonung hadn’t been na’vi, if he hadn’t been watching you so intently to gage that your lips moved, he would have still been trapped in this tense silence.

“Since fucking forever,” he groans, rubbing his face tiredly. “I thought you were supposed to be all smart and all-knowing when it came to romance and crushes and shit.”

“Just because you are completely and irrevocably stupidly oblivious,” you scoff, “does not make me a genius in comparison.”

“So we’re just two little lovestruck idiots, then?”

“Guess so.”

There’s a moment of silence before it really does process to both of you. Aonung’s head snaps up, eyes wide and lips stretched with a fat dopey smile only to find yourself already launching yourself into his arms.

When he catches you, he’s sure he’ll never be able to let you go. Your hands reach to cup his face, which seems comically large in comparison, smiling in delighted disbelief before you let out a small, wet laugh.

“God, I love you.”

Aonung doesn’t even respond- barely even processes your words beyond a surge of overwhelming ecstacy, and presses his lips to yours.

Fuck.

Eywa.

How had he managed to go this long without this.

All those moments staring at your lips meant nothing when compared to the actual feel of them; soft, warm, tentative at first as you brush them over his own. There’s something so sweet about you, and he has a blissful idea that you’re melting on his tongue.

Aonung can feel those last tenterhooks of your friendship splintering and tearing apart at the feeling of your lips against his.

Well, good riddance.

Aonung’s hand finds its way into your hair, hand resting steadily on the back of your neck. Your mouth is small, cushioned by those soft warm lips, but you open your mouth wide and eager, hungry and tentative and exploratory and everything in between.

You’re making all these little huffy noises, as though desperate for breath but unable to pull away from him. When your smooth, small body shifts to press itself closer against him, Aonung groans unrestrainedly into your mouth, and he swears to Eywa you could kill him.

When he’d imagined this – during those late nights hidden deep in his marui fisting his cock – you’d been different. Sometimes you’d be sweet and nervous and tentative, at others you’d be desperate and ravenous and impatient.

Nothing could have prepared you for this, not even his copious, overwhelming dreams and hopes and desires for this. Nothing could have readied him to have you here and now, lips against his, tongue pressed against his, bodies tight against one another.

He’s so hard he thinks he might actually die, but he’ll be damned to pull away to deal with his own needs. All that matters now, all that exists right now is you, your scent, your lips, your body all beside him and around him and so hungry for him.

When he’s worried you’re quite about to suffocate, he slides his lips sideways to press hungry kisses along your jaw. You let out small, breathy gasps, fingers tangling in his hair, arms clinging tight around his neck to steady yourself as his lips find their way steadily back to you.

As your lips smash onto his once more, Aonung marvels at the way his hand – splayed out to hold you up – spans across the whole damn length of your back. When his fingers lightly trace their way up your spine, you shiver against him, soothed by his hand carding gently through your hair.

Your tongue licks lightly over his fangs, and Aonung, surprised, jerks back at the strange sensitivity. That felt different, and he wonders faintly how in all the meaningless, irrelevant kisses he’s shared in his lifetime, that’s never happened before, or at least made him feel so sensitive.

“You good?” you smile against his lips, but he suspects it’s more of a smirk. You know exactly what you’re doing.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling breathless and completely inflamed. “Yeah… I’m good.”

Your tongue teases over his fangs again. When he moans shamelessly back into your mouth, you giggle and cuddle him closer. Aonung laughs with you. It’s an almost painful relief from the overwhelming heat of the moment.

You’re still breathing heavily with that wide smile on your face when you stop giggling, but when Aonung meets your gaze, he can’t read your expression. He thinks for a moment you’re going to push him back, tell him to slow down, but then your gaze darkens ominously.

“Let’s get back,” you breathe exultantly.

“Why-”

“Because I don’t really feel like fucking for the first time with you on the sand of an exposed beach,” you grin.

“So we’re going to fuck?” Aonung asks hopefully, the corners of his mouth curling with delight.

“Up to you,” you grin, standing up and backing away from him in the direction of the village. “I mean, you could stay here in the shade, listen to the pretty birdies and watch the ocean-”

You cut off with a delighted giggle as Aonung sweeps you up as though you weigh nothing and tears off towards the village.

He ignores the stares of the clan as he storms his way towards his marui, though he must admit you must be quite the sight – you nearly completely bare in your little swimsuit, bundled up in his arms and shifty smiles stretched wide across your faces.

He practically crashes into his marui, not bothering to slip his way through the woven entrance but bursting through it and kicking it carelessly back into place with his tail.

You laugh – sweet and clear and loud – as he tosses you against the bed and crawls over to you. There’s barely a thought in his brain than you, with your breathy little gasps and hands raking through his hair and soft, warm lips.

When he buries his nose in the soft, exposed crook between your shoulder and neck, you jolt in surprise. You smell so sweet. Aonung wonders vaguely if he’s in heaven, surrounded by your arms encircling him, buried and deluged in your warm, sweet scent.

He’s extremely pleased to note you’re already starting to smell like him – a faint trace of sea breeze and amber noticeable on you, but he isn’t about to stop until you smell of nothing but him, until every person in this clan can see his plain mark on you, know that you are his and his alone.

And then he can’t stop himself from sinking his fangs lightly into that warm exposed skin.

You instantly squirm underneath him, arching up against him with a surprised gasp. You are just so soft, and his teeth sink with impossible ease into your neck. No sooner has he done it then he’s lightly licking the small pearls of blood away and pressing a light kiss for good measure.

And then he does it again. And again – adorning you with a necklace of gleaming ruby bites, better than any jewellery he would make, prettier than any pearls or shells he would collect. He doesn’t know if you understand them, that claim and those marks, but he’ll make sure you know that you’re his.

“Aonung,” you gasp, gripping at his face to tug him away and force him to look at you. “Aonung!”

“Yes?” he asks, slightly irritated you stopped him from continuing.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with the desperation of your gasps, face flushed in glorious exultation.

“Not yet tsawksyul,” he says. A small glare is forming in your eyes, and he nearly laughs at your ravenous impatience. “You are not ready yet.”

“Yes I am,” you snap, scowling at him. “I’ve taken na’vi men before, just-”

“Patience,” he whispers, hand reaching up to rest against your face, thumb brushing over your frowning lips.

You look like you’re about to shout at him when Aonung’s hand leaves your face and finds it’s way to the little knots on the side of your bikini.

“Is this alright?” he asks gently. No sooner are the words out of his mouth then you’re nodding with irritated fervour, and he pulls lightly on the strings and slides away your bottoms.

Fuck.

His eyes are glued to that paradise between your legs, the one he’s been dreaming about for months. Vaguely and almost unconsciously, he decides when he dies, he’d prefer this heaven over anything else. His eyes quickly flicks up to you, and you must see something in his darkened, suddenly insatiable gaze, because your face is quickly flushing and your legs are squeezing shut.

“Do you want this tsawksyul?” he asks in a low voice, retracting from your body slightly so you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Ye- yes,” you mutter, face turning an adorable pink colour.

“Are you sure,” he presses gently, reaching out to direct your gaze back to his. “We can do something else- we don’t have to-”

“No!” you gasp, eyes widening at those words. “No- I want this.”

“You have to tell me,” Aonung whispers, pressing a kiss to the perfect plush of your inner thighs, “if you don’t like anything. You have to say if you want to stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” you breathe, and he grins.

When he finally dives between your legs, it’s without the intent of ever resurfacing. You let out a surprised little gasp as he muscles his way between your pretty thighs, forcing them further apart from that meager gap you thought would satiate him.

He licks a long, tantalising stripe up your puffy lips, eyes practically rolling back at the sweet, heady taste of you, exploding over his tongue just as he spent so long dreaming about. At your reaction – accidentally bucking your little hips into his face with a choked gasp – he can guess you hadn’t been expecting the rough texture of his tongue.

He looks experimentally up at you, and you glare straight back with an impatient, expectant look on your usually sweet little face.

Fuck yes.

He sucks lightly and you practically shriek, hands tearing for something to grab onto. Unfortunately, your fingers find purchase closing around his hair – curls and kuru and all – and you tug.

Neither of you expected that groan ripped from him, the sound vibrating against you in a way that has your eyes rolling and moaning in glorious response. Aonung, who had already thoughtlessly been rutting his own hips against the ground in search of any salvation from that insatiable ache in his core, does not miss that warning heat start to coil in his abdomen.

But ever set on pleasing you, he does not lapse for a moment and ignores his own unravelling as you continue to desperately tug at his kuru. You’re already squirming and gasping for breath – only making hungry little moans and letting slip little gasps of curses and don’t stops.

He, in fact, has no intention of stopping soon. Not when you’re making all these pretty little noises, not when your own pleasure – the sounds and taste and scent of it – is nearly tipping him over the edge.

He can tell you’re close, and that’s what prompts him to slowly slide a finger into your soaked heat. With a choked moan your hand fists tighter around his hair. Aonung marvels at just how tight you are, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you struggle to adjust to his finger.

He vaguely revels in the thought of how amazing you’d feel, wrapped all tight and warm against his cock, and he moans into you.

When he knows you’re about to tip over the edge, when your eyes are rolling and your moans are becoming less words and more desperate pleading noises, he circles his tongue around your clit and sucks.

You come undone with a cry, clenching around his finger so much he can feel your whole heat aching against his ravenously laving tongue.

It’s only when your thighs (no doubt of their own accord) shut tight around his face in a glorious squeeze of soft, perfect squidge.

He isn’t sure why that’s what does it – though it is paired with your tugs on his kuru and his mindlessly rutting hips – but then he’s also pushed over that brink with a snarl you hardly even notice, too high on your own cresting pleasure.

But he has no time for shame or mortification at his early release, never even touched by you, because really, it’s a marvel it hadn’t happened earlier.

You’ve barely come down from your high when you notice Aonung still buried contentedly between your closed thighs.

“A- Aonung,” you pant, left breathless by your orgasm and the glorious sight of your best friend, all perfect and pretty, having the goddamn time of his life.

His only reply is to lightly tap the side of your thighs and mumble against your aching cunt, “Open these a little wider for me, tsawksyul.”

He vaguely notes your mouth drop open in surprise before he’s diverting his full attention to that heaven between your thighs. Your little huff of impatient is batted with your own gasp, but you – stubborn as ever – continue the struggle of attempting speech, “You-”

“Just one more,” he coaxes, licking another long stripe so his tongue catches on your overstimulated clit. Your defeated little groan is music to his ears, and a wide grip is stretched over his face as he victoriously resubmerges.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before your second is hurtling nearer with haphazard enthusiasm.

You’re whining and squirming from the overstimulation, but your desperate moans are punctuated with little gasps of don’t stop and encouraging tugs on his hair.

Aonung’s moaning into you, enjoying this quite as much as you are. His hands are holding you close by your soft plush of your thighs, tail sweeping and thumping behind him as he inevitably grows rock hard again, spurred by your euphoria.

All that exists is you. You’re so fucking wet, practically soaking into his mouth. All he can see and hear and taste is you, hips rutting against his face, hands clawing at his hair, head thrown back and moans spilling out of your gleaming, parted lips.

His jaw is aching in delicious wearing. The pain is satisfying in a strange way, and he contents himself with the knowledge he’s working.

It isn’t exactly best-friendly; the thoughts he’s having. He sincerely doubts his brain has never been this filthy, flying through all the lewd possibilities while he has you here.

“Aonung!” you slur out, thighs twitching over his shoulders as you near your high. “you need- slow down - ‘s too much.”

“You’re doing so well,” he hums against you, still maintaining his steady (and somewhat overzealous) pace.

Again, when he notices how close you are, he sucks your whole cunt into his mouth, tongue lapping at your little swollen clit as he sucks hungrily at you.

Then once again, your thighs are tensing and your moans are slurring into unintelligible whines. Your grip on his hair is iron as you gasp your way through your second high, eyes wide and lips parted as you heave for shaky, desperate breath.

Once you come down, you push at his head, tugging his hair away from your overstimulated cunt and trying to pull him back up to you.

“God- Aonung!”

Finally he relents, sitting up with a delighted little grin. You are also wearing a stupid little smile, though you look distinctly dazed and ruffled. Aonung feels a little surge of pride.

“Oh my…” you gape, eyes wide in bewilderment as you scan over him. His face is all shiny and gleaming and slicked, and you let out a little giggle as you reach out to try and wipe some of it away. “Oh my god- I’m so sorry.”

Aonung laughs with you, not in the least bothered by the mess of his face. Instead, he takes your hands in his and peppers light kisses up your arms and back towards your neck, where he is pleased to see his various gleaming bites and hickeys ornamented into your soft skin. You giggle again.

“Aonung?” you ask gently, a small smile curling at the edge of your voice.

“Mm?” he grunts, nipping another ruby bite into your collar.

“Care to fuck me now?”

Aonung pulls away an inch, trying to hide his obvious arousal as he studies your rosy grinning face.

“Are you sure?” he questions gently. “I mean you just-”

His voice dies in his throat when you reach up lightly to – tortuously slowly – pull at the strings of your top. He watches the top slide away without breath, and only when you’ve impatiently tossed it aside and grinned at him does he dare to move.

A complete sense of unreality washes over him. After imagining this moment for so long, it seems strange he cannot think of anything to do but worshipfully admire you.

He is pleased to note that, in fact, your breasts are just as soft and plush as the rest of you. They are round and full and slightly squishy in a way completely unlike na’vi, and he’s never been gladder that your aren’t just muscle, that your small body is so perfectly squidgy.

With a nod of consent from you, Aonung reaches lifts you lightly up to place you over his lap. You steady yourself with your hands on his chest, still looking a little rumpled and dazed, but he doesn’t miss that dark, mischevious gleam in your eyes as you stare down at him.

The second you’re balanced, your hand is reaching out to the tent of his tewng. You study him with greed, drinking in the sight of his arousal as though it’s what you need to live. He’s a little mortified now, but he hopes that you think the slick of your hips slightly rocking against his is why his tewng is soaked.

Your hand reaches out to trace along the edge of his tewng, eyes dark with frustrated, hungry impatience.

“Oh baby,” you whisper, your mouth twisted in strange ecstasy as you meet his flushed gaze. “Was this all for me?”

Before he can answer – though he doesn’t think he’d even be able to speak with you settled so perfectly over him – your hips slide back a little so your little palm settles right over his hardened length.

“Take these off.”

“Are you su-” Aonung starts to say, before you rock right up against his pained length and his voice stumbles off.

“Yes,” you whisper impatiently. “It’s not fair that I’m here all naked and you still get clothes.”

“I’m basically already naked and you wear clothes that cover much more than mine every day,” he protests.

“What, do you want me to get you a hoodie too,” you snap, and he knows you’re growing more frustrated and impatient with the effort of grinding against him.

He laughs, and you scowl fiercely at him.

“Just take it off Ao, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Those words practically punch a whole in him, and he feels another surge of unbearable affection for you, which is promptly murdered as you stop your movements in protest.

“You already did, tsawksyul,” he whispers.

“Not properly,” you press. “I want to do it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Your hips rock hard against his, your bare cunt against his cock covered by that ridiculous tewng, and he feels his self-control slipping away. You must sense it too, because you’re grinning and shifting up to help him pull the last restraint between the two of you away. The tewng is thrown away with careless abandon to lie somewhere far away; there are no clothes needed here.

The small gasp you let out when you finally see him all bare and desperate and hungry makes Aonung’s heart thud painfully in his chest.

“Fuck yes.”

Your words explode from you as though you didn’t mean to say them, and a moment later you’re flushing with hot embarrassment. Aonung laughs lightly and you smile bashfully with an adorable little nose scrunch, before he’s lifting you back onto him again.

It’s bare – skin on glorious skin.

He needs to breathe for a moment, ears flattening against his head and eyes falling shut in dark pleasure. You’re so soft – thighs either side of him, breasts bouncing at the slightest movement – but you’re also so wet and warm and slightly sticky that he thinks you’re killing him.

It becomes painfully evident to him that the moment his cock pushes inside you, he’ll be fighting for his life to not come instantly. Again.

He always knew patience wasn’t your strong suit, but you’re growing more and more frustrated and he finally pulls his babbling brain together enough to flip you over to lie beneath him and align himself to your entrance.

With a small, almost pleading cry from you, with his heart thudding loud enough for you to hear, he presses in.

You’re clenching around him so tight, barely even an inch in. You’re tighter than he ever imagined, and he feels like he’s being coddled in searing perfection, so much so that he can hardly breathe as he slowly starts to push in.

When you let out a hoarse whine – the stretch is evident even to him – Aonung winces. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and the thought of you in pain is too much for him to bear. He settles himself with pulling you against him, soothingly stroking your hair.

He can’t look away from where you’re swallowing him whole. It’s a fucking addiction, a new drug. Even the sight of you slowly struggling to take him would be enough to send him over the edge, and he grits his teeth so he doesn’t come instantly and mortifyingly. Again.

And then finally, Aonung’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance and into your velvety heat.

He’s dying. He has to be. Because there’s no damn way he didn’t just go to paradise.

The breath is punched out of him in a low, desperate growl, his hands clawing into the ground to steady himself, to let you adjust, to not just completely lose his mind and bury himself deep into you.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your voice no more than a desperate, filthy whimper as you look down. The sight of the bulge in your stomach drives Aonung fucking crazy, and he has to physically grip himself back from just slamming straight into you. “You’re all the way here.”

“Taking me so well syulang,” Aonung praises, eyes hazy with the strain and face flushed in the euphoric pleasure of your body around his. “Doing so good for me.”

He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him at the praise, the way your cheeks blush and you bite back a small, helpless moan. A good thing to know for later, and he makes a mental note to shower you in so much praise you don’t know what to do with it.

But in the meantime, he can hardly breathe through the effort of holding himself back. You’re gripping him so damn tight he thinks you might actually strangle him, the overwhelming pleasure and anticipation practically choking the breath out of him.

Your face is all twisted and screwed up, and Aonung doesn’t need to be a genius to see you’re in pain. He holds you close, whispering endless praise of how well you’re doing while reaching down to rub gentle circles on your overstimulated clit as he continues the painstaking, tortuous ascent into the heaven between your legs.

“Oh god,” you whimper, resting your limp head against Aonung’s chest, heaving for breath as you try your utmost to adjust to him. “Oh god, Aonung.”

The sound of his name rumbled from deep within your chest, coarse and raw and desperate just tips him just over the edge of mastering his control. His muscles tense as your nails dig into his chest, hips flexing somewhat and accidentally knocking into you, and you let out a strangled cry.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, reaching to cuddle you in close, stroking your hair comfortingly. “You’re doing so well, tsawksyul.”

The words fall on practically deaf ears. You’re so flushed and radiant and ravenous that he doubts you’re even thinking straight, your face adorned with a somewhat manically exultant smile and rolling eyes as he slowly presses even further into you.

You’re clenching around him so impossibly tight, whimpering and moaning as he rocks several more inches into you. He doesn’t know what to make of your quiet sobs, whether they’re of pain or pleasure or just hungry impatience, but he comforts you nonetheless by settling his thumb gently over your clit.

Aonung couldn’t care less about how vocal he is, whispering endless praise, snarling out small curses, rumbling desperate groans against the skin of your bare neck, which is now adorned with gleaming hickeys and several smug little bites.

“Eywa, they didn’t do anything to deserve you tsawksyul,” Aonung groans, still rocking another inch into you. You give a weak, wet chuckle, and he presses a kiss to your shining forehead. “You don’t need any of them ever again, you got that? You won’t ever need anyone else.”

“Ye- yes.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he groans, hardly even aware of what he’s saying anymore. “Whatever you need, I’ll always be there with you.”

“Ao- Aonung?” you gasp, steadying yourself with a grip on his arms. “I wa- I want-”

“I know, I know,” Aonung soothes you, finally bottoming out inside you. There’s no way he would have fit all of himself in there, but he isn’t greedy, particularly when the part you could take is coddled so warm and wet and tight. “I’ve got you.”

It takes everything in him not to let loose immediately.

It’s with gentle words and a hand splayed out across your back to steady you that he pulls out an inch or so before rocking back in.

The effect is instant. You let out a strangled, lewd, filthy noise, eyes widening to round moons and mouth opening in almost dumbification. He makes a deep groan in response, pulling out again, pushing back in again, and the last pretences of friendship are shattered.

His lips find their way to your face, forehead clumsily pressed against your much smaller one, hands holding you gently – a softness at complete odds to the way he’s fucking you.

It feels sinful – the way this is so perfectly right, to have his best friend like this, all pretty and babbling and teary on his thick length.

He moans shamelessly every time his gaze passes over you – all stretched and beautiful – around him, taking everything he gives you.

The sounds you’re making are mingled pleading and sobbing, still shot through with greedy hunger. Each moan and whine and sob strike deep in him, hand in hand with the tears forming in your shining eyes.

Eywa, you’re so much tighter than he ever imagined – ever dreamed of. He’s pretty sure he tells you, but those words are lost in the stream of mingled praise and groaned curses pouring from him as he revels in the pleasure of you and you alone.

The sight of your tits bouncing at each thrust is hypnotic, and then finally his restraint is crumbling, and he dives eagerly forward to take one of them into his mouth.

You arch with a surprise cry as his mouth locks around your breast, tongue flicking over your peaked nipple, fangs trailing over your soft skin now slightly shining with the heat of his mouth. He ignores the contortion for him to do it – all discomfort is disregarded at the sounds of your pretty little whines.

He knew from the start he wasn’t going to last long, but he can see that you clearly aren’t going to either.

Your eyes are rolling, heaving for breath in the rare moments you aren’t cursing or babbling or moaning. Your hands and clutching for support, anything to cling to, something to anchor yourself so he doesn’t almost fuck you straight through the bed.

Aonung vaguely acknowledges (in some dimly functioning part of his brain), that perhaps he might be a little worked up. He’s wanted this for so long, thought about this so many times, imagined and replayed and perfected the vision of this moment, that there’s no slowing down now.

Nothing – not one of his filthiest imaginations, not one of his raunchiest desires – could compare to this. To you.

And then your mouth is opening in a hoarse, desperate cry, your fingers are clawing into the tensed muscles of his shoulders, your cunt is clenching so tight around him it’s bordering on sinful pain.

He reaches to rub circles on your poor, swollen, throbbing clit, and you practically scream.

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh god-” you sob, shaking as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“I know, I got you,” Aonung whispers against your sweat-damp skin. He doubts you can even hear him, and he isn’t even sure he’s physically speaking all the words rushing through his brain.

It seems to almost go forever, and there isn’t a single second in which Aonung wants it to stop. You look so pretty writhing beneath him, clenching around him, panting for him, sobbing because of him, and when it finally seems to slow down, his own pleasure crests.

He’s grinning against your throat, so fucking pleased with himself. He’s so proud of the way you took him that he’s actually about to die, and when he moves to pull out, your nails dig into his arm and you shake your head furiously.

That’s that.

It all snaps in a final sort of conflagration, waves of pleasure and delight and ecstasy and overwhelming, unbearable euphoria rocking over him, over both of you, as he loses control and buries himself with a positive roar in your still clenching warmth.

He’s hardly aware of where he is, though he can vaguely hear moans and whines and curses he guesses may be his, though he can see himself filling you up to the point it’s spilling out the sides and onto your soft, shining thighs.

Aonung just allows himself a moment of selfish indulgence, of sinfully glorious exultation. Nothing matters, nothing even exists, beyond you.

When he flops onto you, shaking with heavy breaths, exultance coursing through his veins, he doesn’t bother to pull out.

You’re still so tight and strangely comforting all wrapped around him, pulsing in the glorious, tortuous aftershocks of your final climax. You don’t protest – though he’s careful to angle his body to not completely crush you.

You let him lie in delighted, satiated silence, tail sweeping happily behind him on the woven floor, head pillowed against the soft curve of your breasts, dimly admiring all the marks he left across your smooth skin.

You’re also trying to steady your breath, absently anchoring yourself to the present by fiddling with the woven cord of his necklace. Aonung notices the curved tooth is almost as large as your whole hand, and a stupid surge of affection wells in his heart.

Here you are, the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen, his best friend, seconds after the most lewd, intimate moment of your lives. What did he ever do to deserve even befriending you, let alone be your personal blanket after he may or may not have fucked you damn boneless?

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, when he’s regained enough breath to properly process your limp, heaving form.

You smile weakly and shake your head, saying, “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good,” Aonung grins, shifting to nuzzle closer against your soft skin. “You won’t need anyone else ever again.”

“Oh, really?” you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way you can’t stop smiling. A moment later your hands are moving to cup his face, and he smiles back at you.

“Can I kiss you, tsawksyul?”

You don’t respond to his question for a moment, staring at him with lips parted in absolute disbelief before a loud, delighted laugh is rocked out of your little body. He frowns, confused.

“What?”

“You just fucked me near boneless,” you laugh, stroking his face affectionately, “and now you’re asking if you can kiss me?”

“Yes…?” he replies, brows furrowed. Your laughter fades and a small smile is left on your small, rosy face.

“Yes,” you smile, cheeks crinkling and eyes bright with strangely overwhelmed joy. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

And he does.

Different to before, not just full of lust and hunger and deep-rooted desperation fuelled by months of desire and affection. This is gentle, sweet, and a soft embodiment of all the warm fluffiness he harbours for you, his little tsawksyul.

He can feel your lips smiling against his own, your little heartbeat thumping against his chest as he cuddles you closer, arm wrapping protectively over you and tail draping lightly over your legs.

Then you’re giggling against him and he’s laughing with you and all the heaviness of the moment before is fading.

He realises that there had been a small naggling part in the back of his brain, wondering what would happened when you finished, when the heat and desire was gone, worried that perhaps it was just the arousal or something that was attracting you to him.

But this is the same then ever – albeit you’re naked. And in love.

Aonung smiles.

“I love you.”

You whisper the words back against his lips, legs wrapping around him to snuggle closer. He faintly dreads the moment you’ll have to pull away, but contents himself to the fact that he can cuddle you again tomorrow and the day after.

So he settles back, peppering you with kisses and light praise. After a few moments, when your breath has properly returned, you exchange some happy prediction for everyone’s reaction to you and him. He finds he couldn’t care less.

Eywa, he’s so happy to have you here.

His little friend.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Tagging my darlings: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @theunfortunateplace @lala-1516 @strongheartneteyam @kiskso @deadpool15 @vampirefilmlover @tysirya @universal-s1ut Please let me know if you'd also like to be added to the taglist :)

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soaringwide · 7 days

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PAC: What's next in your love life?

Here is my love ahead spread, where we're going to look into what is coming for you in your love life, having singles or people in non-committed or early stages of the relationship in mind.

The reading doesn't contain any info on gender or orientation.

As always, this is a general reading meant for multiple people, there are only 3 piles, so it might not apply 100% to you. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.

I'm available for private readings and have a ko-fi. Free readings are currently closed at the time of writing this.

PILE 1

Cards: 7 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Judgement, the Tower, Knight of Wands, 8 of Swords, the Sun, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups

We'll start by looking at your current situation regarding your love life.

It seems something has been growing in your love life for a while now. I'm thinking the early stages of a relationship or a crush situation. Zooming out, the growth seems steady, but it's possible that it wasn't so smooth when you look at it on the day to day. Some days might have felt like take 2 steps backward, and the next day you would move forward again. As a result you might be loosing your patience a little, ignoring the fact that things are indeed moving forward, even though not as fast as you want them to, or not exactly the way you want them to. You're eagerly waiting for things to take up speed and finally reach some type of harvest that you've been craving for. I also see you as somewhat passive, waiting for something to happen on its own. You're not necessarily taking any decisive action, but rather going with the flow of things and observing your relationship build slowly. Overall you feel quite impatient.

With the 7 of Cups in the position of things going for you, I think you have a tendency to get lost in your daydreams and illusions, regarding love and love interests. However, you're fully aware of that and actively de-fogging the whole thing. I see you trying to remain realistic and not too much in your head. I think that's a process that you had to learn the hard way. You're learning to pick up on the truth and discard the lies, which is quite painful and not a growth that happens in a straight line. Inside all this mess, there are nuggets of wisdom you're determined to find. It's like, either it helps you clear the way for this specific relationship, or it just makes you a healthier human, which is a win win situation.

However for what's going against you, I think you still have a tendency to put the blame on others instead of understanding that the current situation is your doing. If you're unsatisfied with the pace of things, you have choices. You can either wait and find peace in that, or move on to pursue something else. Whatever it is, don't wallow in misery because you feel frustrated and let resentment boil within you against your person, yourself, or the situation. What I'm trying to say is that you're refusing to make the call and pick a path to follow with determination, and instead you keep going back and forth in your head and creating a terrible emotional state for yourself. If you keep waiting for a sign in a passive and hopeless way, things will not change.

For what to take in in this situation, I see the need for a big wake up call with the Tower. I know this card has a bad rep but I think here it's mostly an indication of the intensity of the shift you need to do. It is paired with the Knight of Wands which is a clear indication that you need to take the reign and pursue what you want, taking a risk that things might collapse as a result. Welcome illusions being stripped away, let go of lies and take the risk to reveal your true self.

I asked for a clarification and got the 8 of Swords, which shines light on this state you need to wake up from: the fact that you keep yourself in a state of powerlessness when you have the means to cut your bonds. Really, this state of stagnancy is your doing and you need to own up to the fact and get out of that hole. Whatever you decide to do, you need to shake things up drastically and take a more active part in your love life.

What you need to release with the Sun, I get the idea that you're a bit too childish and immature when it comes to love matters, or at least in this situation. The card shows a child on a horse, but unlike the knight of wands who is in full control of his mount, the sun-child is merely waving his arms around and not doing much. It looks quite comical and does not embody a serious partner one might want to pursue. So I'm getting again the idea of the need to be more serious and committed, and releasing this naive mindset that things are going to fall on your lap without you doing anything at all.

For the most probably outcome in this situation, with the Four of Wands I was drawn to look up the astrological correspondence of the card and I got Venus in Aries, which is quite funny since Venus is currently in Aries until April 29th 2024 (writing this on the 23rd). I don't necessarily think this means everyone will find an outcome within the next few days, however, it does point out at changes happening presently, or as a direct result of this Venus in Aries season. Which again puts the idea of acting and stop wasting time.

It's also fun because it points at a very fiery approach to love, much like what the Knight of Wands was suggesting. Instead of worrying whether they love you or not, whether you should move on or not, you're being advised to go and find out. With the 4 of Wands as this placement in the tarot, there is an idea of celebration and coming together. The characters on the card are inviting, as if to welcome you in their circle, or hinting at a festive event or a gathering. A positive outcome is definitely possible, and if not, it's the opportunity to move on from heartache and find a better future with your heart unburdened.

The underlying energy is presented by the Ace of Cups, which definitely speaks of an exciting time for romantic feelings, where feelings are being birthed and coming to light. There is opportunity for a renewal in this connection.

PILE 2

Cards: The Devil, the Lovers, the Queen of Swords, Ace of Swords, 8 of Wands, 9 of Cups, the Fool 10 of Cups, 2 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 3 of Cups, 3 of Wands

We'll start by looking at your current situation regarding your love life.

With the Devil as you current situation, it is possible that you're crushing on someone or are in a non-committed relationship with someone that is loaded with sexual energy. However, it also points at an obsessive dynamic in the relationship which fosters an unhealthy atmosphere. It is clarified by the Lovers and the Queen of Swords, so I think there might be someone in this relationship hoping for love, and someone with their walls up, appearing cold and distant, even if there is physical intimacy at play here. It's also possible that the one interested in committed love doesn't respect their own boundaries and let themselves being stringed along.

As to what's going for you, I see you embracing clarity and the desire to cut through bullshit at this point. A part of you wants to reach the truth of this situation and is willing to think about it deeply. Get your sense of agency back by either communicating your needs and fears or by taking the time by yourself to work on that. It's clarified by the 8 of Wands so I see quick communication, heated arguments perhaps but it's for the best because you need to get to the core of the issue.

For what's going against you, I see you clinging onto the good aspects of this relationship, as in, it's not perfect but there's enough pleasurable aspects to it that you don't want to let go of that. You're protective of what you have and I also see you being a bit too carefree by pretending the negative aspects of this situation don't affect you that much, that everything is find and good, even though it isn't. You might be a bit of a hopeless romantic and you just don't want to see that this situation is not bringing you the true happiness that you seek but rather putting you in a unstable and potentially threatening situation. I don't know how to put it but with this + the Devil as significator for this relationship I get toxic vibes from this, but that you're too addicted to it to really snap out of it.

What you need to take in is shown by the 10 of Cups, and I think here it means that you need to find hope again that you're deserving of true and untainted happiness in matters of love. This card is about commitment and romantic, even familial fulfillment, and I think it's important to remember that if that's what you want then you can't settle for less because then you'll never get what your heart truly desires. This card is here to remind you of your dream, stop settling for less and suffocating your true wish.

You need to release your hope that the situation will solve itself without making a choice. I get the idea that you keep imagining how things could be, or would be if X or Y happened, but you're not taking the necessary step towards your wish.

All of this is highlighted by the general energy of the reading, which is all about going back to decision making after a time of hesitation. It's going to be your role to know which decision you need to make and how though, but you need to leave the harbor at some point.

For the outcome of this situation, I see you moving on to better days, letting go of this situation that doesn't fulfill you and going through a very social phase where you're going to either form new connections, or get back in touch with friends and celebrate your newfound freedom. It seems this decision of moving on will bring you a lot more happiness than sorrow. Yes it is painful to let go, but you have much to gain, and seeking different social interactions will help you feel better and get back on track. Perhaps it would help to find the humor in the situation and have fun gossiping about this relationship with your friends in order to vent and get another perspective.

PILE 3

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, the Fool, 3 of Cups, 9 of Cups, Ace of Swords rx, 9 of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, Temperance, 10 of Swords, the High Priestess, 9 of Swords

First off, let's look at your current love life.

For this pile, I don't think there is anyone specific in the picture for you. I see two possible situations depending on the people. Some of you might have experienced a breakup and are now in your new chapter, having left behind that situation and being past that; for others, I see you waiting for a relationship to show up eventually like some big turn of events. In both cases, you have a very open and carefree attitude right now, enjoying the moment and I get the idea that you might be enjoying casual sex as well, for some of you at least. In any case, you are currently not bound to anyone.

For what's going for you, I see you being social, meeting new people or enjoying time with friends. You're just enjoying yourself and your freedom and it's what you feel called to do right now. It seems you really needed to go through that phase in order to feel happier with yourself and find your balance again.

For what's going against you, I see the idea of casual, or at least, superficial connections showing up once more. You might also not be super ready to get into a committed relationship at the moment because you still feel the need to enjoy your freedom and have either multiple partners, or you just want to enjoy your social life without having to compromise or divide the limited time you have in your hands for one person only. I also see that you lack clarity on what you want. Is a committed relationship really what you want, or do you want to keep what you have right now? And if a relationship is what you want, what would it look like? I think you need to take some time reflecting on what romantic happiness looks like to you to see if it aligns with what you're doing.

For what you need to welcome in, there is a message here of reminding yourself that love is not just about sex and intensity, but also about sweetness and complicity. Looking up to your partner because you find them incredible, because they make you feel like a giggly child you can be your true self with. I also see the need to value true and deep emotional connection. There is a need to be the guardian of your fulfillment, not in a warroir-like way, but rather, in a nurturing way. Be the gardener that takes care of their blooming plants with love and care, and by that I mean that you need to put in the energy of what you want to harvest in the future, not just what's easily available in the moment. You also need to be more independent and advocate for your needs.

It's is very important to make way before you can receive anything new. Which means that you need to get clear on what it is that you truly want and release what doesn't align with that. Perhaps you're also quite detached and would benefit from getting in touch with your deeper emotions again. I think you've somewhat been hiding your heavier emotions inside and ignoring them for a while now and that might be what needs to be released.

For outcome, I think there is a deep need for realizing the options you have to choose from regarding your love life, and really take a look at what you truly want. I think this very social phase will come to an end for now, that you will be more focused on yourself and your inner world. This may trigger intense negative feelings that you were ignoring up until now because you were distracting yourself from them. You may need to hit the bottom before you can rise again, but fear not because from there, the only way to go is up. Learn to look for answers within, I think this time has the opportunity to teach you a lot about yourself and help your grow as a person and to gain clarity on your life.

I also wanted to note that there is a striking lack of Wands in this reading, which to me indicates that the main point of work in your situation is not so much taking actions, but processing thoughts and emotions to get clear on what you want and how to get there. A time for self reflection and growth is coming up.

#pick a card #pac reading #love reading #love pick a card #tarot reading #tarot #tarotblr #pick a pile #pick an image #love tarot reading #divination #soaringwide #soaringwide tarot reading

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http-mianhae · 1 year

Text

AMORTENTIA ; seungcheol

view the whole series here!

DESCRIPTION ᝰ Being head-over-heels for the Gryffindor captain is harder than it seems, especially when everyone knows about your little crush on Seungcheol and he takes it lightly. Until when you’re partnered up and forced to be in each other’s lives on a daily basis, that’s when things take a bit of a turn

WARNINGS ᝰ fluff, angst, one-sided love, snape (LMAOOO)

PAIRING ᝰ choi seungcheol x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ᝰ 17.1k

“When will you stop looking at him?” The question sunk sharply into your goosebump-raided skin, thin as the air you were breathing.

“I don’t know, Mingyu, I don’t know.” you sighed. Truth be told, the action of sighing was intended to rid some degree of tension but it was planting more stress on you.

The shadow of the Owlery roof spread just to your knees. The remainder of your legs were under the Sun, soaking in the glow that you were defective from days and days of staying indoors.

Mingyu rubbed your back, his head heavy on your shoulder. You knew he didn’t mean to ask the question in a crude way but when you were already so sick of it, you wondered how your best friend felt witnessing it all?

“I wish he could make you happy…” he said in a hushed voice.

The sound of the way he said it touched you in a way no one could because it was pure. You wished that the person that didn’t share your feelings would look at you, appreciate you and recognise what you see in him. A hopeless romantic you were, dedicating all your heart to the impossible.

The sound of owls aloft getting in the Owlery to their cages and squawking was overheard from outside. Where you were, you could see the Quidditch field and the red-coloured uniform striking in your eye’s reflection. They were outstanding, dazzling like their Quidditch records.

He never disappointed.

All these running years of Captain, there never passed a day where Choi Seungcheol would thwart the Gryffindor team.

“I’m back!” Chan shouted excitedly, coming out of the Owlery along with Seungkwan.

“What did you deliver?” you asked, turning around to him.

You were essentially brought here by your group of friends, after all. Not that you were complaining either, because you knew Seungcheol had Quidditch practise at this time.

“Just had to get back to Sirius about some stuff.” Dino sighed.

“Oh,” you nodded.

Ever since the whole fiasco last year with the detailed escape of the said gruesome convict departing from Azkaban, your entire fifth year was filled with ups and downs and too many jumpscares to count.

Chan, the deemed Chosen One and your traumatised group of teens solved the crisis and found out he in fact wasn’t a bad guy and was there to be of assistance. Since then, Sirius Black has been in hiding and Chan kept in contact with him however he could.

“And you are…staring at him again.” Seungkwan sighed, disappointed. He took the seat beside you where your eyes sailed off into the distance to Seungcheol was yelling for the ball to be passed.

He looked so charming. And he indeed was. He knew how to respect everyone, even through your seldom communication.

“Please,” Chan muttered, slipping down to sit next to Mingyu.

Tiredness was something you guys were never used to.

The weekend was approaching in literal hours and the four of you were sleepy from the monstrous amount of homework you were suffocating in.

The only getaways you would have were the ones where Seungcheol would take a dip in your daydreams painted like an angel as he would talk to you about how he loved you back and how much he needed you in his life.

You dreamt and dreamt of it but had it even come close to happening? No.

It even went as far as nearly the whole year level knowing, yet Seungcheol didn’t react a little when he discovered your crush on him.

He just left it as so.

You were starting to doubt if anything would even happen.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Monday had boringly flooded in with you going to your Potions Class.

Of course, this was an exceedingly undesirable class for nearly the entire school except for the Slytherins. Maybe if he was nicer, you would consider changing your least preferred subject to something over the lines of Herbology.

You regretted taking that class.

You entered the Potions classroom, locating Joshua the Hufflepuff in the rear corner, waiting for you. Joshua was a mutual friend of yours and you noticed yourself hovering around him during the classes you had together.

When Joshua was quiet upon your arrival, you marked the glow of change in the mood. Snape has to be serious today for you two not to be talking in class.

Notably because of the history Slytherins has with the other houses, you get the worst punishments from Snape.

“We start your Potions assignment today.” Snape shut the door of the classroom with a flick of his wand, causing you to jump a little. “We discussed it last week and you took back the assignment sheets as well, so we will get started straight away.”

Joshua sent a concerned look your way, you nodded it out. Then, he smiled a little, teasingly to confirm. He was a Hufflepuff, but he sure was a mocking one.

“This assignment requires for you to be in partners and I have already picked them out myself.” No one made sounds of disappointment because you all know what the consequences are of that.

One toe out of the line and it was the infamous Forbidden Forest detention coming your way.

“I assume these are the fairest partners there are due to schedules so be aware that I did pick your partners with notice of you,” Snape said, whipping parchment paper out, set to read out what you could assume was the list of partners.

“Sit with your partners once I have called your names out…Seungcheol and Y/N.”

It went eerily quiet.

And you sort of stared at Snape, challenging what he said was true. Like you went dumb for a second and there was this remarkable heat on your face you, as you gawked at his features in high dismay. Were you stuck in a dream?

You were overwhelmed thinking that after Seungcheol knowing your crush on him, you would be shameless of your actions around him. But it appeared that there were still some factors that didn’t apply to that. And this was one of the incidents that had offered those factors—working together with him.

You shook your head, yet trying to make sense of what Snape just said as the whole class turned to seize your priceless reaction to talk about later.

As much as it doesn’t seem so, the gossip gets around Hogwarts fast. You were not one, but multiple examples.

Gossip, gossip, gossip.

The students loved it, it moved them, especially when it wasn’t concerning them and someone who appeared to be so easy to deteriorate and make a fool out of. Hence why your best friend is a Hufflepuff, they respect you no matter who you are.

You abruptly nodded, stepping out of your ordeal daze, finally moving. You didn’t even look at Joshua, you couldn’t induce yourself to see his reaction of pain for you—it’d make yourself feel worse.

The urge to throw yourself out the window lingered, without the stupid truth that you couldn’t because the class was held in the dungeons of Hogwarts. There was unfortunately no possible way of flying at least three stories down.

Oh, you resented it already.

You couldn’t understand if it was because of the near walk-of-shame you had to do to the open seat next to Seungcheol or the fact that you were working with your long time crush, but something agitated inside and caught you into not wanting to stick around.

However, he glanced over at you and smiled, waving at you.

Why was he acting so nice for?

And why were you smiling back at him?

It was so bad. You could feel the stares dig through your head more than they needed to. The recognition you were getting was far more than you were used to in your life and for the prime reason—your crush on Seungcheol.

Snape continued on with his list and you desired it to last longer. Long enough for the lesson to end and stall more time between you and Seungcheol. It was like as soon as you set foot near him, all those insecurities in your brain hindered you from acting who you were.

“Hey, Y/N.” he greeted you, his plump lips looking smooth at a closer perspective. As you predicted. What was more was that he remembered your name.

“Hi, Seungcheol.” you greeted back.

Students were starting to make small talk with their partners, surrounding you. And everyone looked pretty good with their pairs, focussing on the task.

You brought your attention back to your textbook, flicking through it as you tried to disregard the gaze of Cheol on you.

“Um, I think Moonstone is pretty interesting. Should we do our assignment on the properties of Moonstone and test a potion using it? Or we could do Dandelion Leaf, Rose Petals, but that seems like first-year stuff to me and I really don’t want to be doing that.”

A smile gradually coiled onto his features. “Do you like Potions?”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, unmistakably hearing him.

But still, was he being sarcastic? Was this the normal popular kid attitude you would encounter here? You never personally talked to Seungcheol properly, mayhap, that’s why you didn’t know.

But he stopped smiling. “No, I didn’t mean to sound rude. I was just saying you looked really excited and I—”

“Oh.” you intervened, glancing down to your lap in embarrassment. Once again, too defensive for your own good. You were flustered as you looked back up at him, wanting to fix things again. “I like Potions. Just not the teacher.”

You whispered the last part.

“What Gryffindor does? Honestly—oh, there goes the bell,” he said.

Others began packing their books with the dismissal from Snape to leave the frigid dungeons that shrivelled you up on the inside.

Goosebumps were pretty much all over your skin, even with the school robes on. He got up and started picking up his books and quill.

“Um, Moonstone sound great though. We should talk about it next lesson?”

You nodded briskly.

Seungcheol smiled again, your heart racing with what you could only imagine your crush swarming your brain. He was just beyond beautiful.

“Okay,” you said.

“Sweet.”

He walked to the door of the classroom and you followed him with your books to Joshua, who was waiting for you at the door.

“Hey.” he greeted you, a teasing smile on his face. You swore you were about to burst right there if it weren’t for Seungcheol walking slightly ahead of you two.

“Hey, Joshua. Come sit at the Gryffindor table,” you told him, changing the subject. “We’ll eat lunch together.”

“Ah, sounds nice.” he agreed, his eyes squinting in teasing mode. Of course, it was Joshua out of all people that would put you in this position. “Sounds as nice as what just happened.”

“I will murder you!” you said, bumping your shoulder into him. Seungcheol was barely a few steps away from you. What if he heard you?

Seungcheol turned around a little, looking at the two of you. Joshua and you stopped and bartered a glance, eyeing each other with the suspicion of Seungcheol.

Why was he actually paying attention to those who are less popular for once in his life? Because the last time you checked, his group of friends were considered the highest and lived in their own world.

Seungcheol beamed at you, causing your heart to bounce in your chest. He had heard your playful banter.

You smiled back slowly, before taking a quick left at the corridor to bring Joshua away from it all.

“Yo, what are you doing? Kinda sus,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up, white boy.”

Joshua put a hand on top of your head playfully, smiling at you.

You sighed, “I don’t think I can do this. I rather drown myself in the lake than be partners with him.”

Just like that, Joshua had fled out your expectations. He was literally the best when it came to advice.

“Think about it this way. This assignment is only for a month, Y/N. Finish it and leave because there isn’t a way out of it. You know Snape. If you go up to him, he’ll reject you and potentially embarrass you. Everyone knows about your crush on Seungcheol.”

That was it. There was no way out of it.

You placed your forehead on the wall, giving up.

You were forced into a partnership in your least favourite class with your most favourite person.

It was as if luck had tied your strings together, attaching you for this and giving you more torturous events to go through. The rumour-spreading was bad but now, it was just beginning to get worse.

“Hey, look at it this way. You’re going to be with your hot hunk for the next month.” he encouraged, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

“Joshuaaaa!”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

You hated how reliable Joshua was about this whole thing.

It was as if he had it all mapped out in his head to tell you like he knew you would come to him for advice or something.

Honestly, you were weakened by the time the next Potions class strung along, knowing this would be troublesome.

You remembered spending some of the night before with Mingyu, just spilling all your feelings out about it. Your younger friend didn’t let you face it all alone but with gratitude to your clinginess of his words, you found yourself feeling alone by the next class.

Claiming the seat next to Seungcheol, he greeted you softly.

“Good morning,” you replied, keeping it short. You turned to face Snape as he introduced the class and the tasks that were self-explanatory. You got to the task slowly, facing the front still.

“What are we going to do with this thing?” he asked, gaining your attention. Cheol had turned his body towards you on the high stool and you did the same, acknowledging your chances of leaving were about zero. You had to succumb at this point.

“I looked through it a little and I was thinking what if we just do a simple research essay and provide a sample of a love potion,” you suggested, finding it shocking that your voice was able to stay one tone. It was contradictory to the delusional thoughts of committing arson in the classroom flying inside you.

“A love potion?”

“Moonstone is known for being in love potions,” you informed him. Were you seriously discussing this with him? This was the last thing you wanted to discuss with Seunghceol. Love.

“Oh…I wouldn’t know. I don’t even pay attention.” he chuckled.

It was so natural how a giggle slipped through your lips and right there you wanted to go back in time and not laugh. Every insecurity you comforted yourself on was overlapping with disagreement, prominently drawing in the conversation. Almost like you put Seungcheol on a pedestal above you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

“Well, you should start paying attention now because we have to get a good grade on this,” you stated.

He nodded, taking his quill out and the parchment that was already laid on the table for him to write on. “Go ahead and tell me what I should write down for this.”

Seungcheol twisted his body back to the table, showing he was truly dedicated to the work.

“For now, I think we should figure out who’s going to do what and resources.” You were leading this assignment, much to your surprise as Seungcheol was looking up to you for instructions. He was Gryffindor captain, after all, school wasn’t precisely a sweet spot.

“I mean, sure. Does that include meeting up at the library to find resources?” he questioned.

Seungcheol made it comfortable between the two of you. Like there was no buzz flying around as he perched the side of his face on his hand, looking your way. The heartening feeling in your abdomen had to prompt you of the terrain you were in.

“U-Um, yeah. And also like, actually buying Moonstone because I doubt the ones here would be pure. I know a good place in Hogsmeade.” you clarified. He nodded, the hair that was already covering his eyes shaking along cutely on top of his eyes. “If that’s okay with you…”

“Of course. You seem to really want the good grade,” he commented.

“I just…don’t want to do bad at school,” you admitted.

To be frank, the stern list of reminders your parents would give every time you would return to the palace-like school, daunted you.

Pressure, it jostled you to the brim. If they were to hear about the rumours that were occurring at school, it would be over for you and you wouldn’t want that. So instead, you wanted to do your best in everything to avoid complications between them and you.

Seungcheol nodded and then brought his other hand out lazily to poke the skin on your hand laying on the table. “We won’t.”

Your heart was racing yet again, determining his place in you.

You were filled with the same happiness you would get whenever you saw him around school or in the common room in the middle of the night. But this time, it felt closer to your heart, cradling you like you were a child. The kind of comfort you weren’t used to but felt as if you were. He made it seem so natural.

And when you looked at his face, you could only find that Seungcheol was genuine.

The lesson continued with you pulling out a book that you borrowed from your Ravenclaw friend, Vernon and showed him the Moonstone page where there were statistics. The rest of the class consisted of note-taking, exchanging information of times that you were free from extra-curriculums and so on.

You and Seungcheol were so into it, you continued to take it outside on your way to your next classes from the entrapped dungeon.

“So, no next Friday?” you asked.

“I have practice but I can do Saturday morning—woah. Are you okay?”

Someone collided into your left shoulder as you were rising up the granite stairs. As if on beat, one of your quills dropped to the ground. You bent down to pick it up, not looking at the person that nearly knocked you down yet. However, you had the opportunity quicker than anticipated when a high voice played in the thin air. You stood back up to look back at the two girls, draped in the same tie as you.

They were glaring as they talked to each other, walking down the stairs without a respected apology you deserved.

“Oh, look. It’s just what everyone was saying.”

“I bet she’s thriving off of working with him.”

You looked away. They seemed younger than you, not older than fourth year and here they were, participating in gossip like the rest of the Gryffindors. You stole a quick glance at Seungcheol, who was suddenly busying himself with a parchment that was sticking out of one of his books.

He was good at acting like nothing happened, you realised. You sort of didn’t like it.

You climbed up the stairs, furrowing your eyebrows in frustration. “Saturday morning is fine, thanks, Seungcheol.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Chan, seriously! Sometimes I don’t want to be seen with you.”

He dramatically gasped, causing a loud laugh to erupt from you. The hallways were empty, you were free to act how you wanted around. Even the moving portraits were minding their own business.

“How dare you say such a thing about the Chosen One?” he sulked

You slung your arm around his shoulders, a smile plastered on your face. Feeling light and easy, it would always come around your friends. The weekend, what a break you were waiting for the whole tiring and damaging week.

“I’m just joking, Chan. You know that!” You pulled your hand away, grasping his skills in taking a joke were good. Some people just couldn’t take your jokes the way your inner circle—Seungkwan, Mingyu, Vernon and Chan—could. It was sad that Mingyu had a Quidditch practice to go to and Seungkwan was busy at his debate club. Chan always warned him about not being emotional when debating but he never listened.

With that, Chan and you happened to be free, so you decided to wander around the school’s palace floors, making lots of sounds as you go around like little kids exploring.

“I’m glad I have you in my house.” you sighed, reminiscing that he was the only other Gryffindor in your friend group. Chan stuck with you like glue since he came, thanks to that one time you saved him, Vernon and Mingyu from a troll a few years back. It was like you were their older sister.

“Me too.” he sighed, pushing his circle glasses against his face. He stopped right in front of two double doors, made of oak, momentarily staring. And you would’ve called out a staring problem when a Ravenclaw slipped through, leaving with a bunch of parchments and books, halting you. “Do you want to go to the library?”

“…I mean, why not? It’s not like we’re doing anything.” you shrugged nonchalantly. You were up for anything.

Chan took it as a yes and pushed the door open to which you followed in. It wasn’t busy just because most were still occupied with having lunch downstairs in the Great Hall. You nodded in greeting at Madam Pince as you followed Chan in, who appeared to be leading the two of you, different from how it should be.

The quietness was more as the passings of blue robes were considered the norm around here. Ravenclaws were so involved in their studies. You still wonder to this day why you got into Gryffindor instead.

You had no business in the library as you already came last night to finish all your weekend homework with Seungkwan by your side, making jokes as people were emphasising on tests the next week.

Chan found something though.

“Vernon.”

You searched over to where he was looking and a smile painted your face. A small table of four near the entrance of the library, Vernon sat with his nose in a thick book.

Chan slid into the seat beside him and you took the other side, wary of not knocking over the vast number of books piled up on his table. You could still reminisce the day that you brought him in here out of his mere curiosity and since then, you two would often study together. And now, he was here out of his own will.

He really did grow up.

“Hi.” he greeted the two of you, voice soft.

“Hey, you got homework?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“DADA?”

“Yes.”

“Need any help?”

“No.”

“Want us to leave?”

“No.”

“Like studying here?”

“Yes.”

“One plus one?”

“Maybe—”

Chan and you exploded into quiet fits of laughter. One of your hands came to smack Vernon playfully on the back, seeing as he was too concentrated for his own good.

He smiled a little at his mistake before pouring himself back into the knowledge in front of him.

“Have you eaten though?” you asked, worried. You knew Ravenclaws had a notable habit of not taking care of themselves and it was your rightful duty to make sure that your underclassmen did eat and eat well, it was natural for you to take care of them that way.

“Yes, I have. I just got here five minutes ago,” he replied.

“Oh, we never saw you,” Chan said, gazing over at you to agree with him. You nodded, a little bewildered that he was apparently here for a short amount of time and how had he got that many books in that time?

Opening your mouth, you were about to question him further about his schedule that appeared way too overworked to you but Chan gasped, interferingly.

“Hey, how come you’re here?”

Abruptly, you turned your head to the right at the well-known voice, goosebumps and heat evident to you in a short amount of time. Is he talking to me out of his own will? was your first thought when you met Seungcheol.

“Oh, hey.” you smiled nervously. “I was just wandering around.”

He took a fleet glance at Vernon, who didn’t bother looking up as he was active in his learning and you thought Cheol would’ve left after saying his ‘hi’ but his eyes caught a double-take at Chan sitting across from you. The Chosen One, you were used to it. He stole the attention all the time with that lightning scar prominent on his forehead.

Seunghceol drew out the chair in front of him and sat down.

“Hey, sorry you didn’t make it into the team, by the way,” he said to Chan.

Chan straightened up quickly.

You couldn’t see an ounce of sloppiness coming from him, except the fact that his face was detailed with nervousness for the Gryffindor captain. If not, more than you.

You thought you were the person that got the most nervous when seeing your crush but it appeared that Chan was more nervous about seeing Seungcheol than people were about seeing Chan─the Chosen One at that.

“I-It’s fine! There’s always next year!” Chan assured, not wanting Cheol to feel bad at all. You clamped your lips shut, remembering that the orphan had cried about how he hadn’t made it in the team—Vernon, Mingyu, Seungkwan and you were all there reassuring him and then teasing him for his crying.

Cheol nodded at him, understandingly. “I hope so. If you need help improving, you can always ask me or the Weasley twins.”

His eyes lit up with what you would call the pure excitement of a child. He grinned widely at the assistance he got from the Gryffindor captain that he clearly found unexpected. This was their first time directly conversing as far as you knew. Which was why Chan grabbed your hand under the table as you talked, making you stifle a laugh.

As if you had gotten off from the pedestal of being noticed by Cheol because of it.

“Did something happen?” he questioned you. The hold the younger Gryffindor had on you had relatively loosened as you took in the view of Seungcheol glancing in your direction.

“No.” you dismissed nervously. “I’m—”

“I’m just joking.” he laughed, seeing the way your face had grievously frozen for a second because he called on you. It took you a second to realise and start smiling yourself, dismissing other intrusive thoughts. It was hard sometimes because of the way he looked so easily cold, but a completely different person when you got to know him.

Chan eased into small laughter too. “She’s always nervous.”

You glared in his direction. “Weren’t you just holding my hand under the table?”

Vernon vented with laughter this time from the small banter you two were making. However, it didn’t seem like banter now that the two of you were glaring at each other.

Seungcheol looked at you, making brief eye contact.

“You guys are pretty chill…I’m gonna go downstairs now to eat though. So I’ll see you guys,” he laughed, standing up to leave. Before he turned back around to you. “See you in class.”

And he grinned at you.

Doesn’t he get tired of it? Making your heart race. Because you sure were getting tired of it.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“That’s not fair! You can’t just make me dissect it just because you don’t want to,” you screamed, the tweezers in your hand shaking. But not because of the open frog in front of you, but because of the fact that Choi Seungcheol was right behind you, his hands tightened on your shoulders unexpectedly as he peeked over to get a closer look at the frog.

You were grossed out, of course, though you were more curious about what it looked like on the inside. With its guts spilling out and the dead eyes edging you, you admitted to yourself that this was a once-in-a-lifetime luxurious opportunity that you would get with Cheol.

Although you sixth years had a crucial assignment to complete, Snape decided to take one lesson each week to go through other stuff as a break from the random potion ingredients and today’s break was dissecting a frog and seeing how crushed frog intestines get delivered and used as a prominent component for memory potions.

Cheol had been scared from the start and begged for you, distinctively, to do all the work.

So you did.

“No, no, no. What are you doing?! What are you doing?! Don’t bring it here, yah! Y/N, pleaseeeee~!” He moved off, just as you pulled up the frog by the hand with a pair of tweezers.

You grinned at Seungcheol, closing your eyes. “It looks so cute!”

“Cute?! Are you out of your mind?! Put it down! I said, put it down!” he yelled, picking up a book and nearly hitting you with it. Had it not been Vernon’s book consisting of mentions of Moonstone, you would’ve teased him further.

“I honestly don’t get why you’re so scared.” you sighed, placing the frog, like a patient during surgery on the baking paper. To be fair, shrieks of excitement and terror were heard throughout the whole room as students experimented with the frogs, so Seungcheol wasn’t the only loud one.

Unfortunately, Snape was far too busy with his paperwork at the front of the classroom to pay any mind to sixth years, except with the telling kids to be quiet or else. Consequently, the classroom was securely made your territory.

“I honestly don’t get why you’re not!” Seungcheol said, disgusted by the way you were poking it. You could see it all from the way he scrunched his nose and then, how his fingers had pinched together the fabric of your robe which settled on your shoulder. You had to show that your heart wasn’t beating a hundred times faster than it was already. The close proximity was such a blessing, even if you were dissecting frogs.

“Look at it! Ewww!” Seungcheol continued.

“Seungcheol, you might as well turn green,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. He clawed on your shoulders, a small smile playing on your face. Then, you shook your head, snapping back into the lesson. You guys were literally dissecting a frog. “Will you at least write the results?”

“F-Fine.” Seungcheol’s iron grip on you was gone and he slipped to your side where there was a parchment with neatly drawn tables by him.

“I don’t have a quillll~” he whined cutely, stomping his feet to the ground. When you laughed, he snatched yours off from the top of your pile of books.

“Hey. Be careful with that, it’s my favourite one.”

“Yeah, yeah.” he bantered. You began telling him all the results and he scribbled it down, neatly, because you had forced it upon him to write it nicely.

You had continued to do so until Snape stood at the front of the classroom, gaining attention efficiently. The bell rang at the same time. “Please leave after packing up all your things.”

“Shouldn’t you dispose of the frog, Seungcheol?” you questioned teasingly.

“Nope, nope, nope. Don’t even think about it!” Cheol shook his head and moved a few steps back as you smirked slightly.

Maybe it was hanging around Joshua and Seungkwan too much or how your friends were mainly younger than you, but seriously, you loved the sight of Seungcheol scared of something as simple as frogs.

You wrapped the frog carefully with the baking paper it was with its guts and all, letting him sigh in relief and brought it to the crate Snape had instructed you previously to put on.

A line of students were waiting their turn to put in the experimented frogs before it was your turn. You noticed the smile on your face hadn’t left but it dropped quickly when your ears peeked at something else. The girl in front of you was whispering with her friend and you had accidentally caught your name coming from one of their lips.

“She literally thinks she’s got him now.”

Your heart fell to the pit of your abdomen, shattered at the thought it was still happening.

You forgot for a second how much you hated it, the situation you were in.

“She’s not even close. I bet he talks behind her back.”

He doesn’t.

“But if I was her, I would switch partners because if I was caught with someone I was talking about for a long time, damn, that’s not even shooting your shot anymore. It’s just embarrassing.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Was it embarrassing? Were you not even allowed to get along with him as a classmate? Not even a friend…what did you do wrong? Was it a crime to like Seungcheol because as far as you knew, it wasn’t. Also, it wasn’t your fault that someone was backstabbing enough to spread rumours about you.

You sat in your bed, the canopy curtains drawn in, though the sun was plastering through the windows. All-day, yesterday, you were harassed with the frog dissection with Seungcheol in Potions. Girls begged what it was like, others were just inadvertently teasing you. You should’ve gone to a Muggle school, you thought.

Another weekend had come and you were here, in the morning, dreading everything.

It’s been a little more than a week of being his partner and the stress that crowned on your head was already too much. You had literal trauma from people talking about it, you almost could trust no one.

“Are y'all awake?” Isabelle, one of your roommates asked. A hum of agreements sought through the room from everyone but you. You refused to talk to anyone for the day and you didn’t want anyone to come to you either. You felt like being by yourself, possibly be with Mingyu.

“I think so. Y/N’s still sleeping.”

“…she’s been acting different, huh?” Isabelle asked.

The room went still for a second.

You lifted your head from the pillow a little, quirking up an eyebrow.

Were you acting differently? You didn’t find that you were, in fact, you were trying to not act out of line since you became partners with Seungcheol.

You didn’t want any more assumptions than there already was in the air.

“Since she’s been partners with Seungcheol, she’s been acting like she’s someone else. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me. We’ve all been trying to comfort her since Jade outed her, but she seems so egoistic or she thinks she’s better than us because she actually started talking to him. Like, we get it, you’re actually getting attention from a boy─”

You jerked open the curtains of your canopy, wielding your legs over. The light blinded you for a second as you adjusted your eyes to their faces. The girls were all situated in getting ready for breakfast but when they saw you were awake the entire time, they paused.

“Did I ever say that I’m better than you, Isabelle?” you queried.

For you, it had gone a little too far than you anticipated. You still remember the day that you saw one of the boys from his team tell him about your crush and how his eyes had met yours.

Since then, you knew you were screwed and your respect for the year levels, had disappeared just for a simple crush on Seungcheol.

He had a girlfriend at the time too.

Messy.

“It’s started again─no. I mean, please don’t touch me.” you sighed, brushing Ophelia off.

She was the kindest of them all, although she didn’t talk as much so you weren’t fully comfortable with her despite the many years of knowing each other. It didn’t mean that you guys liked each other necessarily, you just knew about the other a lot.

Their eyes trained on you, the feeling of sinking into uncomfortableness coming again. You despised all of this with tears. The bad attention, the assumptions, the threats─you needed Mingyu.

Your best friend.

Standing up to your feet, you swept past the girls to open the door of the dorm. Your heart sank when you saw that Seungcheol was standing right at your door, a fist up as if to knock on the door but you had already reached it and at the worst time too.

He was clothed in his practice clothes and a big smile on his face.

“You just woke up?” he asked.

“Could you move?”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened, not expecting that you would shoot him, out of all people like that. Of course, that’s what you imagined he was thinking. You were in the mindset that the world was against you except Mingyu, who you badly wanted to see.

“I just came to return your quill─”

You tsked and brushed past the guy, distant from the mood of talking to anyone except your best friend.

Your mind felt obscure and you just wanted to talk your feelings out, potentially cry about why you were crying and the humiliation that was dripping from everyone’s lips.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“─and I just feel so tired from everyone.” You hit your face onto his shoulder hard, feeling your face get hurt but still, you were persistent in hoping that one hit may as well change everything.

“That’s really bad. What sucks is the fact that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have to be shameless.” Mingyu said, picking the grass on the ground and aggressively throwing it to the ground again in a system of fury.

That’s why you liked telling him about things, he would always feel with you.

“Right?!” you smiled, lifting your face off of his shoulder.

He sighed harshly as if nothing had been in his favour. But you knew the truth was everything was in favour of Mingyu except the fact that his best friend was a total douchebag that won’t stop caring about what other people think about her.

Sadly, this was all because of what your parents gave you—the public humiliation with the relatives, the degradation, the pressure of messing up all started with them.

“Petition to expel Isabelle?”

“I’d sign it, no doubt.”

“Hey, but for real, if you do feel uncomfortable to work with Seunghceol, you’re not exactly obligated to,” Mingyu suggested.

The thought had accuracy up to one disappointing point of it. “I think you forgot who my teacher is.”

Mingyu made a face. “True. It doesn’t hurt to try…still.”

You broadly accepted the case, finding no other way there was in this situation. Despite being younger than you, the kid really knew how to give advice like a free newspaper. He was your guidebook, your breath. How were you to live without Mingyu?

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“So you’re definite about this?” Joshua asked firmly. Why was it so surprising to everyone that you were ditching Cheol on this project? Was it that hard to believe?

It had to be the perplexing deceptions that said you were super obsessed over Cheol that made Joshua draw to this kind of conclusion.

However, a group of gossipers made it obvious that your choice wasn’t your choice.

“She’s seriously obsessed with him. I heard that’s all she talks about—Choi Seungcheol.”

“I don’t think I need to explain,” you told him with a fake smile plastered on your face. You didn’t know that there was anything else you could do about this except forgetting it afterwards. This was going to be a power move. After this, you didn’t need to think about Seungcheol.

Though, it did hurt.

The one golden opportunity you had, you were giving it up to the fates to someone else that was going to be equally blissful to work with him. You were grateful that you got to work with Seungcheol, even if it was for a little over a week but now, you wanted someone who wasn’t going to sidetrack you from your work neither were their presence around you going to bring up old gossip stories that you didn’t want to hear.

“You don’t.” Joshua agreed, walking into class with you.

After Snape introduced the lesson to the class, you moved over to Seungcheol. He showed nothing from the last visit between the two of you. You were thankful, you didn’t want to bring it up again because you were embarrassed.

You wouldn’t have to be for long though. It was just this period to go through and then, you’d break the news to him that you were switching.

Class did go by fast and you found yourself getting nervous. You twisted your returned quill in between your fingers as you glanced a little towards his way. He was concentrated on scribbling down more notes like you had previously instructed him to.

Seungcheol did everything you asked him to, no questions asked. It was going to be difficult to let go.

“Hey, Seungcheol…” you began slowly when you heard the bell go. He was still writing, wanting to finish the work you told him to do.

“Hm? Did something happen? You’ve been quiet the entire lesson.” Seungcheol said, turning your way. His quill remained on the parchment, the ink bleeding through the same spot.

You nodded, nibbling your bottom lip “I hope you don’t mind if I do this but―”

“Wait. Did I write something wrong? Just tell me.” he interrupted sharply, looking at his work.

“No. It’s not that. I was just…you know what? Seungcheol, I’m thinking of changing partners. You’re a great person, but you’re not as free as I need you to be and that’s not your fault either.” you told him, straightforwardly.

He stared at you and then blinked a couple of times like he was puzzled.

You didn’t expect this at all. You thought that Seungcheol would be super understanding of it and agree that your schedules weren’t in your approval but he just stared.

“I don’t get it. I’m working with you on it during class time and we met up in the library two times already to work on it? Isn’t that enough?” You couldn’t help but detect the daintiest frustration in his voice.

“I know but I just don’t want to work with someone that’s not going to be available when I need them and you don’t need someone that’s going to be calling you to do an assignment when you’re busy.” you lied.

The bell rang and you stood up, sweeping your books off the table in one go. Then, while everyone else was trying to leave the classroom for lunch, you were on the way to the front of the classroom to ask Snape for permission.

“Another question I presume?” Snape asked, removing his eyes from the form he was looking at. His eyes looked as cold as ever and you felt as cold as overdoing this. Seungcheol resembled a sad puppy earlier and you couldn’t do anything about it, except give in to your needs.

“Actually, a request, sir,” you said. “I was wondering if I could change partners.”

Snape set the parchment in his hands on the table. For once, he actually looked surprised. Had the gossip spread as far as to the teachers of Hogwarts?

“You better have a good reason, L/N. I took time out of my own day to select partners.” Snape answered and it would be a lie if you said that you weren’t intimidated by it at all. In fact, you sort of froze there, fixated on his face. You didn’t expect Snape to ask for a reason as to why you desired a switch. Thinking about it in the present moment, it seemed kind of dumb for Snape to just let you off the hook without a reason.

He already had mighty hate for Gryffindors. To make them go through absolute torture in their years was another one of his goals was foreseen by many.

You stood there, powerless to meet his eyes.

“I―”

“It’s because I bailed out on her last minute on the assignment yesterday. We were meant to meet in the library and I had a practice to go to.” Seungcheol interrupted, stepping up to save the day. Or more so, make it worse?

Ah, the white lie. You gritted your teeth inside your clamped mouth, endeavouring not to say something. Another clean save from embarrassment, but did it have to be him?

“Yes.” you answered. “He missed out and now I want a new partn―”

“We’ll talk through it together.” Seungcheol interrupted. You glanced over at him, eyes widening. He was demolishing your plan and wasn’t even looking at you for it. “And if we have anymore issues, we’ll come over. Thank you, professor.”

Parting your lips hadn’t done justice for you as Seungcheol grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards the exit quickly. You couldn’t glance back at the stone-cold eyes almost resembling the dungeons nor had you had any permission from what you wanted.

This is what the staring had to mean from earlier. He was devising a plan as soon as you revealed to him that you didn’t want to work together.

Seungcheol didn’t seem that way but you were persistent of an ulterior motive behind it. Not that you needed to know that either because you severely didn’t want to be stuck with him.

“Why did you do that?” you questioned him once you were outside the classroom. The hallways were quiet, enough for you to raise your voice to ask him why.

“You should’ve just told me the reason, then and we could’ve worked out something.”

He had the sheer audacity to roll his eyes at you, making you scoff that this was the guy you liked. Seungcheol had to know then. There wasn’t going to be any excuse except if he knew what you were going through and he owned up to it.

“Y/N.”

“What, Seungcheol? What more do you want from me?” you asked, annoyed as you walked away. You were prepared for another three weeks of torture.

“If you be my partner, I’ll make sure the rumours go away.” he negotiated.

You froze in your steps and then swung to face the captain who seemed to have been serious rather than playful because his facial expressions were telling you so.

“Why do you want to be my partner so badly?”

A smile settled on his face as his orbs ensued to the ground. You were bewildered at the set of eyelashes, yet from a distance.

“You push me to work,” he answered truthfully.

It was scary how quickly you grinned too, recognising how deep you fell for him. However, just hearing that made you feel better about yourself.

“You’re kinda bossy―not that it’s a bad thing! I kinda need it, you know? To be focused and know that Quidditch isn’t the only thing I need in my life. You made me learn that…I don’t think everyone is capable of doing so.” Seungcheol resumed, looking up at you.

The words took seconds to digest. Then, you stopped smiling and turned around, walking away. Suspense, you thought. Do it for the suspense.

“Are you still going to switch?!” he called as you reached the bottom of the staircase. The smile hadn’t left your face, neither was that heated feeling on your face that you wish would just leave. Relief had rid of the anchor in your stomach that you thought was rooted in the spot forever.

You twisted your head to the side, where Seungcheol was standing meters down the soulless hallway. He was grinning your way. Charming.

“No, Cheol. I’m not.”

You walked away with heat kissing your cheeks, not able to see the smile that had to be sculpted flawlessly on his face. You didn’t want to see it, it would make your heart beat faster. Leaving the dungeons, you went to the bathroom straight away to fix up.

He complimented you for goodness sake―that he wanted you to work with him and that you made him concentrated and he needed that. He said he would make the rumours go away too.

You fanned your face with your right hand as you walked into the girls’ bathroom, not bothering about the fact that you would be late for your next class. You were already far ahead in Charms so it wouldn’t be a problem to catch up.

Right now, you just processed the events again.

Now you knew the sensation of being wanted. Was it the love you were feeling for Cheol that had you feeling this way? It had to be, what else could counter for it?

You recollected the memories where you would gaze out into the pale moonlight at the perch of your windowsill, wondering when the chance of being with him would come.

“Snap out of it,” you whispered to yourself and as if by instance, your face modelled into seriousness. Your next class was awaiting you. So you left the bathrooms to go to Charms.

You had class with the quiet Ophelia and found her situated near the back of the classroom when you got in. You beamed her way, acting as if nothing had happened previously. She was notably good at finding things out through simple facial expressions.

But today, she kept staring.

Were you slipping?

“What?” you asked her.

“You were just in Potions…didn’t you hear?”

“What?” you continued to question.

“Seungcheol…apparently, he called you cute. I just heard from Isabelle and the rumour is spreading fast.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

You spent your own time looking for the Gryffindor captain, wondering where the hell the guy was. Even when you entered the Potions classroom, there was no sign of him neither was there the sign of the bright smile you longed for desperately.

So you decided to ask the twins about it, near the end of the lesson as your curiosity had reached high ends.

“Awww, why do you want to know, cutie?” Fred teased.

Your cheeks heated, prompting you to do the only logical thing there was. Which was to seize your book off the table and hit him on the arm with it, playfully, of course.

“Oh, Seungcheol must wish you hit him with a book.” George continued along.

“Where is he?” you pressed on, now urgent for the answer.

“Your boyfriend is sick in the hospital wing,” they said at the same time and then gave each other a high-five. Honestly, have they never had a fight before? They were acting as if they were best friends rather than siblings.

And Seungcheol being sick?

“Really? What happened?”

“Georgie, look! She’s worried!”

“Now this is a love story that I would invest in. Chan bet four galleons that you’ll screw him before the term ends, ya know? I reckon sooner!” George jested and they exploded in laughter like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“I hate you both!” you shouted, simultaneously at the bell going off.

“Couldn’t hear ya!” And they ran off, leaving you a complete mess as you sat on your seat, pondering it.

You wouldn’t lie if you found the rumour appealing.

Also, it was only ten minutes. Ten minutes and Seungcheol let the rumour spread like wildfire. But the question that you kept coming back to was whether he actually meant it or was he just saying it so he could cover up the rumours and hurtful words going on about you?

Classes were over and you left with the group of students who were similarly leaving Potions. What you didn’t expect was your crowd of friends waiting outside the doors for you. Your eyebrows perked up in amazement the same time Joshua bumped into your shoulder from behind.

“You four!” you shouted, a smile unavoidably smacked on your face. You yearned horribly that it would dissolve in thin air, you had no knowledge on how to handle this type of heartthrob if you were being honest.

“At your command,” Seungkwan said, bowing down sarcastically at you. You haven’t seen any of them since the rumours have spread. So you showed no surprise that they knew about it.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We thought we would come to visit milady after her classes, give her route to the dorms if such thou honour let us.” Mingyu piped up, leaning down a little and very elegantly giving you his hand.

“Please, what is this actually about?” you replied, taking the hand. With that, Mingyu began leading you away, your group and Joshua following you.

“You took a hit.” Vernon stated. “Even the seniors in Ravenclaw won’t shut up about it.”

“The Seungcheol rumour…” you said.

“How lucky.” Joshua conceded while laughing as he put his hand on your head. You, for once, felt happy in a while. Even though Seungcheol wasn’t here, you could still feel him around you and the way all of this was happening, was because of him.

He could’ve easily told people off for the rumours and stopped it like that but instead, he made it better for you to be around others.

“Okay, but let’s go somewhere.”

“Where do you want to go thou lady?” Mingyu questioned.

“Hmm, Hogsmeade?” you suggested.

“Of to Hogsmeade we go!” Dino shouted, pointing outwards. And with that, you were scooped off your feet by Mingyu surprisingly and placed on his left shoulder as he ran off down the hallway. Even the teachers yelling hadn’t stopped the golden boy from running and screaming for people to move, with the advantage of his height.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you guys later!” you laughed, walking off from your friends.

“Don’t screw!”

“Protection is important!”

“I can ask if you need it.”

It took everything in you to not go up to them and give them each a smack on the face. You were in the same hallway as the hospital wing, which meant it was dead silent for the treatment of sick patients.

“Babe, I promise you, it’s going to go well.” Seungkwan shouted out. “You got everything you need.”

You spun around for Seungkwan and he gave you a big thumbs-up. “I love you, okay?”

“Thanks, bestie!” you called on him.

Mingyu gasped, offended clearly. That was his own fault. He didn’t get you the way Seungkwan did, which is why he was a literal social butterfly unlike the other Hufflepuffs too.

Joshua and Vernon, too. They stood there with a proud smile as if they were sending their little daughter to school for the first time. In reality, you confirmed that it was the thought that you had social freedom that made them happy.

As for Dino, he was just cheering there and being a supporting friend as he should.

“I love you too,” you said to Seungkwan. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Wait for me in the common room, Chan.”

Chan waved at you excitedly. Then, you turned around, heart wholly happy as you walked off. Turning left into the hospital wing, you saw a Madam Pomfrey come out of her office.

“Hi, Y/N.” the lady greeted, confusion as to why you were here.

“Hi, Madam Pomfrey. I came to see Seungcheol to, uh, drop off some homework.” you said, trying with your best smile possible. Did you or not look convincing was an aggravating question you wanted to ask her.

“The third bed on the left. Be quiet, there are other patients here too.” Pomfrey permitted you.

Relief sunk into your stomach as soon as those words left your mouth but it was only moments before tension built again, remembering who you were going to see.

Moving past the woman, you walked to the third bed on the left, which was covered with the flimsy blue curtain.

“Seungcheol,” you called.

“Come in.”

Butterflies invaded the space in your stomach as you swiped the curtain open. The said boy was laid on his bed, but he was starting to get up again after one glimpse at your arrival.

“No, no, it’s okay.” you excused.

He remained still on his bed, a soft smile coming onto his face. It had been a day, you missed it so much. You took notice of the get-well-soon cards and balloons tied to his bed. Also, a bouquet that was scented beautifully.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, claiming the seat next to his bed. Your legs had come to shaking at his presence. Seungcheol looked tired, his eyebags prominent and the ideal set of lashes pretty even though his eyes were red.

“I’m okay. I think I might leave soon,” he told you. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to class today.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. I get it.”

Silence clouded the atmosphere and you didn’t know exactly what to say. Last time you checked, Cheol was the social butterfly, not you. But he was busy looking at you and that managed to cause many commotions inside your head. You were torn between many thoughts.

“Say, what did you do in school today?” he questioned you.

You looked away from his intense eye contact, faking to think about what you did in your entertained day. In truth, it was to not look into his coal eyes again. You were afraid of getting lost in there.

“We did a lot. I have the homework and notes if you need it.” you said, moving your bag to the front where he could see it.

“I already did homework.”

“O-Oh. Really?” you said, tilting your head to the side.

“Yeah. I’ve been doing schoolwork like the whole day, I rather not get lost at school too.” he nodded.

You quipped an eyebrow, impressed.

“Why?” he asked.

You shook your head, taking a second to process what he said. He really was changing and for what? Had he finally remembered just how much education was vital for a magical person?

“It has to be something.” he pressed on.

“Yeah, just kinda impressed.”

Seungcheol reached a hand out and placed it on your head, a boyish smirk on his face. “Learned from the best.”

You stared into his eyes, feeling your insides crumble weakly. The tower of strength and independence of a woman was easily demolished by Seungcheol─that was the truth. You were too lost in your love for him, it was impossible to get out.

The feeling when you constantly try to leave, but he would just remind you with a simple glance your way. You were his.

“Thanks, but did you need any help? I’m happy to help.” you requested.

“I do, for Charms. Look.” Seungcheol stretched to his nightstand and opened his Charms textbook, already laid ready for his use. He flipped through the pages, prior to finding the question he was talking about. You couldn’t see because of the height of the bed, so you got up and leaned over to where he was pointing.

'What spell is used to…’ You should’ve been looking at the question and helping him as a good classmate. That was what you were doing. However, your eyes favoured a different route instead of the dense lines of the textbook and trailed to his hand that was pointing at the question.

You froze on the spot, seeing two silver rings on his fingers and the popping veins on the back of his hand.

“Do you know the answer?”

“Huh?”

Snapping back into reality, you turned to Seungcheol, who was closer than you last remembered him to be.

He hushed quickly, his eyes fixed on you because of the close vicinity between. Your view darted down to his lips, plumper now that you were close to him. Your stomach clutched, almost like a reflex.

God, they looked so good glistening under the light. You were desperate.

He grabbed your forearm that was pressed standing on the hospital bed to help read the question and for a second, you thought he was going to move you away so you don’t get the wrong idea, but he was moving you closer to him.

Another glance into those settlingly deep-set eyes caused your heart to race. They moved like a dream, like the dreams you would have of one day the kiss with him would happen. It was almost incomprehensible how quick this was occurring. His head tilting, your head tilting, eyes closing and just before your lips could connect to his―

BANG!

You shuffled back instantly, sat back down on your seat.

Nothing happened, which you could safely assume it was Pomfrey’s accident, that noise was. Though it did annoy you quite a bit. You were so close.

“I-I should probably go, I need to go do some homework and―”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Oh, hold on, before you go.” he interrupted awkwardly. Why did he have to do that? You were trying to leave for goodness sake and he wasn’t helping that one bit.

“How are you feeling…about the rumours?”

Out of all questions in the world―

“Um, yeah.” you said, shifting your glance back at his face to see the worry clearly written on it. You had to ask. That’s why you came here in the first place. “Did you by any chance mean it?”

Seungcheol stared at you.

“That I was cute―”

“Oh. No. No, I-I was just tryna, you know? Like, you know? I think you get the point―”

You smiled and nodded. “Get better, okay?”

You pushed back the curtains and left through it, cheeks kissed with heat again. Yeah, I get it, Seungcheol. You did mean it.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“H-Hogsmeade? Together? Like as one?” you questioned, jaw dropped to the ground.

Seungcheol nodded, holding the vile in his hand and examining it. The Moonstone at the school, like you predicted, hadn’t given the results you wanted. Even Snape had told you it was about fifty per cent pure and that if you wanted real Moonstone so badly, you should go down to Hogsmeade yourself and get it.

Seungcheol took that seriously.

“Yeah, why not?” He slipped the vile back into the test tube holder and placed his hands on the table, looking to his right at you.

“I…I just never thought you would ask like that,” you answered him.

He closed his eyes and smiled at you. “Well, you’re the one pulling out different sides of me. Let’s meet in the common room at nine tomorrow.”

The bell rang, causing him to widen his eyes. You couldn’t even ask what he meant by that. “God, I have a practice now. Do you mind packing up for me this once? I’ll owe you butterbeer tomorrow, thanks.”

Seungcheol grabbed his books and ran out the door before you could part your lips. You widened your eyes, realising that you were going to be alone with Seungcheol in Hogsmeade tomorrow. He also mentioned butterbeer so it was going to feel like a real date.

When the time did come to leave with Seungcheol, it did feel too good to be true. Especially since you were just, seconds ago, twirling around for the nice members of your roommate to see if your outfit was good enough.

They had said it fit perfectly so that’s what you went with.

“Hey.” you said, patting his shoulder.

“Oh, Y/N, hey!” he greeted. “Are you ready to go?”

Walking through the hallways of the school, you noticed the stares straight away.

“Are you uncomfortable with it?”

“No!” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow at you. You didn’t see it straight away because of his hair hanging in front of his eyes, but when you did, you shook your head again to confirm.

“I don’t, it feels better than before,” you explained.

“Well I’m glad because now, I can work with you for Potions.” Seungcheol sighed.

“You’re so obsessed with me.” you teased, rolling your eyes.

“You, out of all people, shouldn’t be saying that, Y/N. Shall I remind you―”

“No, no thanks.” you answered, causing him to chuckle at your reaction. It was like yesterday’s events had wiped away from your minds. Not that you objected to it, you rather not talk about it anyways.

Like every Saturday, the Gryffindors that wanted to go to Hogsmeade assembled at the entrance with McGonagall, waiting to leave the gates of Hogwarts.

Snow had fallen in thick blankets of the courtyard and you were feeling warm with the clothes you were wearing. Thank God they hadn’t forced you into something ridiculously revealing.

“What shop are we going to, by the way?” he asked you.

“Oh, there’s this corner shop that sells really good potion equipment, so we’ll go there.”

“Cornershop? Sound suspicious.” Seungcheol said.

“You sound scared, Seungcheol,” you smirked.

“I am not!” Seungcheol stated, bumping into your shoulder playfully. You bumped back, smiling.

“Sure. We’ll see when we get there, okay?” you said and McGonagall clapped her hands, ensuring everyone’s attention.

“We will be leaving now. Remember, no goofing around, especially you, Weasleys and we’ll be back before lunchtime,” she announced.

The professor routed around and whipped her wand, opening the doors of the school. The group of Gryffindor students followed her off into the exit. Seungcheol and you walked towards the back of the crowd, strolling in silence for a while.

“Your friend going to come along?”

“My friend…?” You turned your head to Seungcheol.

“Chan.”

“Chan? Oh, Chan! He’s so lazy, I doubt he would come along. Plus, his family didn’t even sign the permission form.” you sighed.

“Ah, I see. So it’s us.”

“Why? Do you want someone else to come along?”

“No, of course not,” he said, the town becoming more visible in the snow. It was always crowded in the small town, no matter what time it was. It seemed to never have peak hours. “We’re here, shall we go buy the Moonstone?”

“Yeah.” you agreed with a nod. You directed the way through the clumped crowd of students with Seungcheol trailing right after you. It was hard at first to see through the snow and many figures standing around but when you caught tiny glimpses of shop names, you were easily governed into the way of the cornerstone you knew well.

You overlooked for a second that Seungcheol was meant to be following you when you made it in front of the store, so you looked around for a quick second to see him fighting his way through the last crowd of people and squeezing out at the end.

You giggled at his clumsiness as you pushed open the store’s door. Like you had said earlier, it was in fact a corner store, driven away by the body of people. You enjoyed the eerie but quality vibe you would get every time you would enter the store.

“Dude,” Seungcheol muttered, amazed at the darkness upon entering.

Outside, there was no Sun shining but here, there was not even a light bulb guiding you through except the natural lights at the ceilings poking through.

“Are you sure this is the right shop?” he asked.

You nodded. “Come on, we gotta go find the Moonstone.”

Sauntering through the dark store, it was mainly penetrated by Ravenclaws from your school, looking at books and such things. In fact, you only knew of this place because of Vernon who wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about it. To the point where one day, he dragged you into here to see the astoundment for yourself.

But what was a downside of the peculiar store was the price.

“Ten galleons?!” Seungcheol gasped, as you waved around the bag of Moonstone dust.

“What did you expect? It’s one-hundred per cent pure.” you sighed, handing him the sachet to look at himself. The silver-blue powder was beyond gorgeous in the clear sachet, the magical feeling even Muggles could feel. It reminded you of fairy dust, not that it wasn’t different from it.

It shimmered even under the dark shield of the corner store.

“Hmm,” Seungcheol muttered to himself. “Let’s get it then. But I want a good grade.”

“Of course.” You plucked the sachet off his hold and began going towards the counter stationed in between the exit and entry of the store. The disappointment hit hard that you were going to part with him after this. No one said you were but there was nothing for you to stay with him anymore, though.

Besides, the Weasleys had come out today, so Seungcheol must want to go have fun with the pair.

You drew out your wallet, about to hand the ten galleons to the cashier when Seungcheol smacked your hand.

“Let’s split it.” He appeared suddenly to your right. You looked at him, wondering how he got there so fast. You thought you had left him rows deep into the shop.

“Split? Are you sure?” you questioned.

He nodded and pulled out his own wallet. You tried your best not to soften at him doing so. After all, it was the literal bare minimum, partnership some would say. He was doing his part. But it was so cute, the way he took his wallet out and shot a smile your way as if for you to know that he had your back.

You paid your five galleons while he paid his.

“Thank you.” the two said to the old lady working there and then left.

Protectively, you kept the sachet of Moonstone inside your purse, buried deep within so it had absolutely no chance of falling out. You followed Seungcheol into the snowy weather that transpired into heavier snow than it was before you left the store. You hadn’t expected this to occur, but when you remembered it was nearly time for Christmas, it shouldn’t have been surprising.

“Ah, it’s crowded~” you heard him whine, a little too cutely for your own good. “Do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks?”

“Why?”

“Why? What do you mean why? I literally promised you a drink.” he said, rubbing his hands because of the cold. You were filled with warmth from his presence so you didn’t do anything.

“You don’t have to. I’ll just go back—”

“No, seriously, Y/N. I insist. Come on.” Seungcheol grabbed your wrist without further ado and it was like he was never affected by the cold a second ago because he was pulling you through the crowd to make sure you didn’t slip away and run off. Which did seem like a better option, you weren’t going to lie.

The bodies pressed against you as you walked down the fine white paths wasn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world. In fact, it reminded you of why you don’t go to Hogsmeade often. It was the nauseous smell and feel of others radiating that annoyed you.

You focussed on the warm touch of Seungcheol as he led you through though, completely fazed by the back of his head.

Until, you felt a large knock on your left shoulder, almost pushing you to the ground. You let out a loud gasp, feeling that the warmth pulling you close was leaving slowly as you make your journey to the ground. Until it came back grabbing your right hand, but your bag’s handle was sliding down your left.

Snapping your head to the right, you were foreseen with the sight of a hooded guy reaching for your bag.

“Hey!” Seunghceol and you snapped.

It didn’t take long for it to all settle in your mind as you were already turning on your feet to run after the said person. You had no idea who they were, neither did you have any care for the things in your purse except the precious Moonstone. You almost hated yourself for being such an imbecile and letting yourself get caught off-guard even with the finest detail.

It was no surprise that you were charging after the person, with a serious Seungcheol behind you who reacted with the same speed. When it came to a woman’s purse, that’s how it should be.

But when the Gryffindor Captain was ahead of you, you were starting to lose your breath from running between the tightly woven crowd. In fact, you were sure the crowd was tired of Hogwart teenagers running around. However, Seungcheol lended a hand back, making sure to keep his face forwards to detect the whereabouts of the thief. And you could assume the hand to be a boost, which is why you slapped your sweaty palm on his, letting him take over the situation for you.

“Where is he?”

“Not far ahead,” Seungcheol said, the adrenalin obvious in his voice. He was basically more worried about the Moonstone than you. “I can see him.”

You tried to calm down, focussing on the mission ahead of you—getting your bag back. So as Seungcheol weaved out through the last crowd, you followed right after. He let your hand go abruptly, you could safely assume that it was because he already got the guy, but you were far too busy catching your breath with your hands on your knees. The peculiar stares stating simple curiosity of the Hogsmeade residents had passed you.

In, out, in, out.

“Weasley?!” Seungcheol screamed.

You looked over to see Seungcheol barely metres away and Fred, who had his hood taken off and your handbag with him. You were so close to going to slap him but resisted the urge because you didn’t want to interfere when you were completely out of breath.

“I swear, one day, I’m going to kick you off the team.” Seungcheol said, sounding more like a threat to you.

“Fred, you dumbass.” you insulted with your heavy breaths, you just had to get the anger through and following, there were no excuses.

“Notice how the two of you have anger issues too? Awww~” he cooed with a smile you found so stupid on his face. You were close to just going up to him and punching his cheek.

“Oh, yeah? And we both are going to beat you the fuck up if you don’t get away from our eyesight in three seconds.”

Fred’s eyes widened. He didn’t need to be told twice, he tossed your bag into your hands and ran off. Seungcheol and you laughed at seeing his figure run away into the crowded people again.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“And you guys beat him up or not?” Joshua asked.

You shook your head, in a daze as a smile stupidly spread on your face. How you were unconsciously falling deeper and deeper for Seungcheol had to be no question, he was so irresistible at that and kind and the list goes on.

Joshua sniggered.

“What?” you questioned, snapping your head to his side. The guy seems to find what you said funny, but he just shook his head.

“Ah, nothing. It’s just cute.”

“Joshua~!” you said, the flustered feeling coming back. You bumped into his shoulder, feeling heat swarm your body once again. You hated the feeling but it was also something that slid over with comfort for you.

The two of you entered your Potions classroom and you split up from Joshua, unluckily only a row away from him with your partner. You weren’t able to avoid his teasing gaze towards you and a busy Seungcheol.

“Stop.” you mouthed and rotated towards the busy boy. He must’ve realised your presence by now but he was far too interested in taking notes than you.

“Hey, Seungcheol.”

“Hi.”

“Doing work?”

“For once.”

“Your handwriting has significantly improved―”

Joshua broke out into laughter behind you and that caused your cheerful mood to drop, described from your face. You glanced over at the Hufflepuff boy as did Seungcheol. What made it worse was the fact that Seungcheol also knew Joshua.

“Did something happen, Josh?”

He shook his head and locked eyes with you for a second. “Nothing, just happy.”

Seungcheol nodded and chuckled. “Same.”

“As you should be. Aren’t you happy too, Y/N?” Joshua returned, being a little too inclusive of you in the conversation. It was between the two of them, why did he have the need to involve you?

“Yeah. U-Uh, reminds me. I gotta go ask Snape for something, come with me.”

You hopped off your seat, making your way to the front of the classroom where the strict-demeanour teacher was sitting.

“Professor, I had a question.”

He looked over at you, barely approving with his eyes that you were allowed to continue.

“I was wondering if you could sign off for us to go get this book in the restricted section. It’s called―”

“No.” he interrupted coldly.

You widened your eyes at him. “But I didn’t even tell you what book it is.”

“The answer is going to be no, L/N. I will not be permitting students to go into the restricted section of the library for this assessment. Whether you be a first year or six year, I am not going to give you such an unnecessary sign.” he explained.

You placed your hands on your hips, getting heated. This man has done nothing but sit around the whole class and it was all because this specific class held Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. He should be a lot more careful who he was talking to, because the last time you checked, someone like Salazar and the Bloody Baron was on their side.

“What do you mean no? Do you know how limited the sources are for Moonstone?”

“Well, maybe then you should’ve been more considerate of what you wanted to do for the assignment.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered. How you had gotten this disrespectful to teachers was seriously out of the question. Snape was just being a pain-in-the-ass. Oh, did his face look so punchable for a second.

“Come on.” Seungcheol said quietly.

You glared away and walked back to your seat with him following you.

“We don’t really need the book, do we?”

“Hansol and I looked the library upside down and there’s only three books in there that include Moonstone. We borrowed his book and that equals four sources. We need five. And the library has this book all about it if we could go in―”

“Oh, that sucks.” Seungcheol interrupted, sighing. You couldn’t brush off the feeling that you just needed a pass into the restricted section of the library. It wouldn’t leave your mind. Seungcheol comforted you. “Hey, how about we just start making the potion now and then later, we can go look for sources? We only have a week left.”

You nodded, the truth worrying more than the restricted section of the library. The two of you split up to get the equipment you needed to make it. You originally wanted to make it on the side of the classroom with the huge cauldrons but that would be unnecessary as all you needed was a small batch of the said potion.

So you had another plan in your mind.

The mini cauldron stood on your table and Seungcheol scrunched his nose at it.

“It’s so cute.”

“Right?” you answered, grabbing your wand that was tucked at the top of your school skirt. You swished and flicked, muttering: “incendio”.

A small jet of fire appeared on your wand and you handed that to Seungcheol.

“Me?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna be making the potion.”

“Aw, but―”

You sighed, waving the fiery wand around at him. He sulked and got it off you. Seungcheol put the lit wand directly under the small cauldron. You got started immediately on the potion.

As the water was boiling, you rolled up your sleeves and got to work. You carefully picked up the two roses and removed the thorns, setting them to the side. Then, you plucked out the rose petals, gently scrunching them up in your hand and setting that to the side too. The peppermint was already prepared so you had only the pearl dust to go.

You swiped it off the table and measured a teaspoon of it.

You peered into the cauldron to find that the water was starting to boil, so you began putting the ingredients in, including the pinch on Moonstone that was required.

And then, your final ingredient.

“Why are you acting like you’re in a cooking show?” Seungcheol asked as you stirred the small bowl of melted chocolate.

You smacked his shoulder gently. “I will give you the love potion, if you dare do that.”

“There’s literally no point.”

You laughed, finding the choice of words funny until you abruptly stopped, realising what his words meant. He stopped too, seeming to acknowledge what left his mouth. The sound of the stirring you were doing was heard as he tried to move his eye contact from you. “Put the chocolate in, it’s melting.”

“Y-Yeah.”

Did he just admit that he likes you?

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“So I have no idea what to do…” you explained to Chan in the empty common room. The fire was ablaze behind you, shadowing your figure as you walked back and forth in front of Chan. It had to be hours near dinner by now. Students were going in and out of the dorms but you didn’t pay mind to that as you discussed seriously with the Chosen One. You had been assisting him with his homework all night and he asked if you needed help with something.

This was the only thing.

You told him about the Snape situation, hoping he would magically fix something. There was no point, he was just a fourth year, what was he going to do about it? Especially when Snape hated him out of everyone.

“Hm, this is hard,” he muttered, looking down to his lap.

“It is.” You settled on the ground in front of him, crossing your legs. Chan was in deep thought, more than you expected.

“I need to sneak in there without being seen, somehow.”

“Do you think we all could come and distract Pince and you two could go into the restricted section?” he asked you.

“Too risky,” you answered, shaking your head. You had thought of that before but there was nothing that would come out of it, except points removed. But you desperately needed the book so you were at the edge of asking if you could do it with your group of friends.

The risk was too much though.

Chan gasped dramatically as he rose up from his seat. You widened your eyes at his sudden movements and stood up too.

“What?”

“Borrow my invisibility cloak.”

You grinned so quick, excited that there was a way to get your hands on the book. And relieved that the assignment would end well.

“Lee Chan! You are a genius!”

You cupped his face and pressed a kiss on his forehead lovingly. “Stay here, I’m going to go tell him about it!”

By him, you had meant Seungcheol. Practically jumping for joy and leaving back a flustered Chan, you ran towards the exit of the Gryffindor dorms. It felt like a happy ending. You were going to get the book, seal the project shut and not have to worry about it again.

You were on fire as you ran down the stairs of the palace, impatiently, of course. Seungcheol had to be nearly done with practice by now as it was nearly dinnertime. So it would be a perfect opportunity to tell him.

You rushed by a bunch of Hufflepuffs, seeing Seungkwan on the way. He wanted to stop you and say hi but you were too busy running off to find the captain.

“She’s always running around.” you caught him saying to one of his thousand group of friends.

Exiting the palace, you hiked up your school robes to get down the hill in order to reach the Quidditch field. It wasn’t every day that you had ran this fast, consequently, you felt your legs tire and knew that the next day, your whole body would be shaken with pain.

Just as you reached down the steep, the familiar sight of your house team was beginning to make their way upwards to the castle. A smile painted on your lips as you continued to run down, the pitch-black night served fresh with the scent of nature coming from the forest adjacent.

“Seungcheol!” you called, waving a hand up.

The team snapped their head up, all similarly shocked to see you.

“Hey, Y/N!” he called back. He walked ahead of his team that just as quickly went back to talking to one another but kept eyes on their captain here and there. Of course they would―it was their captain you were speaking to.

“What’s up?”

“Okay, okay! So you know how we need to go into the restricted section of the library and stuff?” you asked, voice full of excitement as you two walked up the stairs.

“Yeah…?”

“So Chan and I were talking about and trying to find an idea when he stands up excitedly and was like―”

Suddenly, Seungcheol grabbed your bicep pulling you closer to his heated body. The smell of dirt was rubbed in him, you could tell but you showed no reaction to it as his eyes had caught yours. You paused in all movements, feeling the throb in your chest you knew a little too well for your liking.

The night had matched his hair colour, making his face as bright as the Moon. The chattering of his team had distracted you from gazing into each other’s eyes in a split second.

“You nearly tripped over, you goose.” he said quietly.

You followed his line of sight to find a rock that you would in fact slip over if you weren’t careful with yourself.

“Ah, I see. Um…”

“Continue. What were you saying?”

“Oh, yes! So, Chan offered to lend me his invisibility cloak―”

“No way! The kid has an invisibility cloak?!”

“He does!” you exclaimed. “We used it last year when we―not important! But we can sneak in, unless you’re too scared to sneak in.”

He gasped. “I am not. And I’m not going to let you do this on your own either.”

“You sound like my father.” you sighed, looking away from his eyes. “Anyways, when do you want to do it?”

“On Friday? I have nothing on then.”

You thought about it and then nodded yourself, proud that things were getting themselves done. “Sounds like a plan.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Yeah and this dumbass snitched on me!” Seungkwan yelled, jumping to his feet.

“The teacher had to know.” Vernon dismissed quietly.

“You don’t tell on your friends Chew Hansol”

“It’s Chwe not Chew.” he corrected, also standing up.

“I don’t care! Now because of you, I got fifty points from my house and the seniors won’t even look my way!” Seungkwan yelled.

Both looked offended at each other as they stared with fire practically embedded in their eyes. You were the oldest here, yet you didn’t do anything about it. For once, you sat there, knees pressed to your chest as you nervously rocked on the library’s armchair.

The clock was in your view and there was ten minutes until the library would close. Five minutes until Seungcheol would meet up with you.

“Can you both shut the fuck up?” Mingyu asked. And him being only a year older didn’t help that they wouldn’t listen to him. They dragged him into the fight.

“Shut the fuck up, Kim Mingyu. You are the reason why girls don’t even look my way!” Seungkwan yelled. “They only look at me to compliment my fat ass!”

You had no idea what happened to Seungkwan neither did you care that he was over-excited. He was seriously scary when he was mad but no one took it seriously. Normally, you would and you would stop the fight but you stayed quiet.

“Stop. She’s literally shaking because her crush is coming here in five minutes and you guys are fighting.” Chan said.

“Exactly.” Mingyu replied.

You closed your eyes and placed your face into your knees. You did not need to reminded of it again. Heart squeezing in your chest, you released your position to stand up, stressing out more.

The boys had stopped at hearing the news that Seungcheol was going to come here any minute now. No one knew about this except Mingyu and Chan because you didn’t have time to tell Vernon and Seungkwan. Who cares? Now they know.

“Why is he coming?” Vernon questioned, turning his attention to you.

“They have to get a book from the restricted section and they’re using my invisibility cloak because they haven’t gotten a pass.” Chan whispered, noting that Pince was a few rows away.

Seungkwan and Vernon nodded.

“Under the same cloak, so close to me―fuckkkkk.” you muttered, hitting Mingyu on the shoulder out of habit. “Why did you let me do it?”

“BI wasn’t even there. You did this to yourself.” Mingyu answered you.

“Ugh, fuck you guys.”

“Don’t worry, babe. You look great. He’s for sure going to fall for you.” Seungkwan promised.

You felt tired, eyes drooping.

“He’s already called you cute and everyone thinks that he likes you back. So don’t even worry about it.” Chan comforted, taking your hand from your side.

“This wouldn’t be happening without you, Chan. Thanks.” you smiled softly, despite the burden burrowed on your shoulders.

The door of the library opened. Your stomach clutched itself as Seungcheol walked in, a hoodie and tracksuits. He had circle glasses like Chan on and his wand in his hand. He noticed you off the bat since you were sitting near the exit.

“Hey.” he greeted, walking up to you guys. They all go quiet and he greeted them too. “Hey…Y/N, you ready?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You look so nervous about this, don’t even worry about it. I’ve done this a few times before.” Seungcheol said.

“Uh-huh, with other girls―ow!” you said out of the blue and Mingyu stepped on your feet to stop you from ruining your chances.

“What did you say?”

“I said, boys you should go.”

You looked expectantly at your group of friends. They stood up, exchanging 'good nights’ and 'bye’’s to you and Seungcheol. It was like there was something else besides gravity holding you so still to the ground. Unbelievably still as your friends started heading out.

Quickly but surely, you grabbed the invisibility cloak out of your bag.

“Come here.”

He moved over to your side, bodies barely inches away from you.

“Tell her we all left.” you mouthed to Mingyu.

He nodded and smiled. You smiled back, waving and then diverting your attention to Seungcheol.

“Here.” Seungcheol took the cloak off of you, shaking it down to its full length and then draped the cloak over the two of you. The satin fabric reached the heads off both of you, reaching barely to your feet.

“Move closer, Y/N.” he whispered.

You inched a step closer to Seungcheol, doing anything but looking at him. You looked at Mingyu instead as he told Pince that you all had cleared out of the library already. She nodded and bid them a 'goodbye’ and when she had closed the library door and scuffled into her office, your heart had dropped to your abdomen.

That’s what you hated more. The lights were all on and the woman was still around, cleaning up her stuff, preparing to lock the library.

“Should we go now―”

You slapped your hand to his mouth, stopping his words that were far too loud. Not even having proper time to register what you did, you were cringing on the inside that Pince may have heard it. There was no one else in the library, it was so silent that you could hear a pin drop and Seungcheol had to speak right then.

Pince’s door opened and she peered around suspiciously. She shrugged after that, her features relaxing. But instead of going back into her office, she walked out of her office and was walking towards the light switch which she turned off.

“Lumos.” she said, casting light on her wand. And with that, she walked back into her office, closing the door behind her.

Now that was so much stress under thirty seconds. You felt yourself knot up in ways that you couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Seungcheol was right next to you under the silky material, you needed to get a book from the restricted section, Pince was in her office and now, it was pitch black in the library.

There was barely light coming from the windows.

“Lumos.” you whispered, as you whipped out your wind.

A light appeared at the tip of your wand and you started walking towards the back of the library. Seungcheol walked right behind you, keeping completely silent like you wanted.

“The door is right there.” you whispered, appearing at the entrance of the restricted section.

“How do we get in?”

You smirked at him and pulled out a key.

“Pince might’ve lost a key today.”

“You’re trouble.” he chuckled.

The creaking of a door was heard and you widened your eyes at Seungcheol.

“Your trouble is going to get us in trouble, Y/N.” he whispered.

You turned around to the door.

“Is someone in here?” you heard Pince’s voice boom. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tightly fit the key in and twisted the lock open. Her footsteps were loud but they were going towards the other side of the library. You breathed out sharply and managed to get the lock open.

A small relief swarmed through you as you pushed open the cage-like door gently. Seungcheol followed you in, closing the door slowly and locking it.

“You have the key?” he questioned.

The atmosphere was thick and filling up quick with the frustration from Pince. She was still yelling, not giving up in finding her keys. There must’ve been a lot of students who snuck in to stay back if she was this frustrated.

“Yeah. Stay guard for me.”

“Got you.” Seungcheol got out of the invisibility cloak and stood right next to the door, seeping through every once in a few seconds. It was going far better than you expected, only if she hadn’t realised her keys were gone. You imagined all kinds of trouble that would happen when it came with working with Seungcheol.

You jumped up onto the wide wooden ledge where there was a large bookshelf filling the wall. It had to be here somewhere. Using your wand, you scanned the book binds to figure out the names of the author.

Daphne Willows was the author’s name.

“Have you found it?” he whispered.

“No.” You jumped off gently from the ledge as there were only surnames of the first of the alphabets on that side. Jumping onto the other wall of books, you frantically searched. There was no way that the book was already borrowed, you needed that.

“Come on, Y/N.” he urged. “She’s getting closer.”

“Ssh,” you whispered, looking over the books. Your heart was racing as you slid down the ledge. You were close.

“Walter, West, Weston, Wilbur, William.” you whispered, fingers closing over the bookbinds gently.

“Y/N―”

Everything, Moonstone ― Daphne Willows.

“Are you in the restricted section?!”

You froze in your position, the voice far too close for your liking. What was worse was the fact that Seungcheol could be completely seen but you weren’t. He hid right next to the entrance, back pressed against the wall and it was as if he was camaflouged because of his sweatpants.

“I am so sick of students sneaking in here. Alohamora!” You hated that you didn’t know the unlocking spell worked on the restricted section. That would’ve been your biggest save. Your heart dropped. But the book was right there. So with all the bravery you had, you risked a flash of your hand as you swiped the book out. Pince hadn’t seen it.

Sweat was on your forehead, your feelings a massive rollercoaster between stress and relief from this woman. She walked in and all you could worry as you stood firm against the bookshelf was that Seungcheol was right there, pressed on the wall, hoping he wouldn’t be seen.

She was going to turn around any second to see him.

You breathed out silently, warm air coming straight back on your face. You had to do this for the both of you, you dragged him into this.

You slid to the end of the ledge, where he was standing, remaining calm. Bending down to his height, you threw the remainder of the cloak onto him.

“What do we do?” he mouthed.

“Listen. You’re going to turn around, piggyback me and we’re going to run the fuck out of here.” you mouthed back. Only half of the cloak was on him, but for it to fully cloaked on him and you, you had to get on him. If you jumped down, you would make some sort of noise.

A small smile was on his lips. He was calm for this, so it was confirmed that he really did do this before. You weren’t going to doubt it anymore.

Seungcheol turned around.

“Invisibility cloak!” Pince yelled.

“Quick!” he shouted at you.

You quickly stuffed the book into your bag and then turned back around to wrap your arms around his neck, jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. As soon as you did, Seungcheol darted through the exit, his legs working quicker than you’ve seen him fly in the air. You held your arms tight, your lit wand in front for him to find the exit.

An angry shouting Pince was running after you and her voice had reached a crack.

A small chuckle left his lips.

“Don’t laugh!” you whisper-yelled.

“It’s funny.” he answered.

“It is not―well…”

You laughed a little, lifting the cloak a little of the ground so he could see. Seungcheol’s hands had travelled to hold your thighs firmly against his sides as he ran. You worked efficiently together.

“Don’t waste your energy.” you reminded him.

“Charm the door for me, I think it’s locked.” he answered you.

“Alohohmara.” you whispered as the door came into view. Just like that, Seungcheold pushed the heavy door open with a kick, fitting through the hallway. You could just hear Pince’s screaming as he continued to run for his life and you were glad for a second that you were paired with someone that was an athlete.

Seungcheol ran through the hallway, turning a right and finally stopping. You jumped off, laughing as the invisibility cloak came off the two of you. He turned around, laughing. You leaned against the window, catching your breath from being with Seungcheol.

“StudeNts in tHe lIbrARy!” you mimicked, making Seungcheol double over for a second. His laughing was loud naturally so you had to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“God, why did she sound like that?” he asked, moving closer to lean against the wall next to you.

Both of you had sweat shining against your faces, but that didn’t stop the night’s humour. Pince genuinely looked like a joke to you. Seungcheol lulled his head upwards before turning next to you, you were slowly calming down.

You turned your head to him too, a smile resting easy on your face.

“You know it’s fun working with you.” you giggled, looking away when you remembered a sad truth. A smile lingered on your face. “Sad it’s going to end soon.”

It was quiet for a second as you examined the classroom window right in front of you. Thanks to the shimmering light of the night behind you, you could see the reflection of you and Seungcheol. He was next to you, close, shoulders almost touching.

“It doesn’t have to end.”

You stilled, the smile dropped. You fidgeted with your wrists as you whipped your head back at him. He was smiling softly at you.

“What?” you asked.

“I said it doesn’t have to end.” Seungcheol moved closer to your face.

And for a second, all your previous memories had gone. The hallway was so loud with your heart yet so silent. The Moon was reflected in his eyes, but you were larger in his eyes. You could see it, he was so close.

“Are you confessing to me?”

“What if I am? You don’t have to be the only one in love…we can be in love with each other.” He didn’t let you speak, closing his eyes as he moved in. It was more of a command made by your body to shut your eyes. You pressed your lips against his, sealing the gap.

All the pressure melted off as the sense of his plump lips were finally felt. You were itching for this moment, events in your dreams were fleshed out into the reality.

Seungcheol smiled through the kiss, bringing you out of the thorough consideration of what was a dream and reality. The reality was so much better to live in, you concluded as he turned so that he could press you against the cold window of the palace, quite a different feeling from your breaths tangled in an intimate dance with each other.

“Go out with me.”

[ BONUS ]

“Congratulations,” Snape said, passing out two pieces of paper on it. “It was very well detailed and the potion was good too.”

You gasped and looked at the paper. Seungcheol smiled at you, his hand perched on the table and his face leaning against his palm.

“What did we get?”

“Ninety-eight per cent!” you shrieked, pushing the paper in his face.

He laughed and hugged you. “It was worth it!”

“It was, oh my God, I’m gonna cry―”

Seungcheol chuckled and put his hand on your lap. “I’m glad. Because of you, my grades are going up. How about we go to Three Broomsticks today?”

“A date?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes! I need a break.” you sighed.

“Ah, it’s so cute.” Joshua sighed from the other side of you.

You both turned your attention to him to see him smiling dreamily at the two of you. “You guys are so adorable.”

“Joshua.” you sighed, putting your hand on his head.

“Not as cute as Vernon as Seungkwan though.” he dismissed.

The fact that that statement didn’t even break your heart proved that even Vernon and Seungkwan were even cuter. The sight of Vernon grasping his boyfriend’s ass so publicly still hadn’t left your eyes. And you knew that Seungcheol was thinking about it too from the way he shut his eyes for a second.

“I told him not to do it,” he said.

“I know, me too. But, it’d be nice if we call them to come with us.” you suggested.

“Double date at Three Broomsticks tonight it is.”

“Ughhhh! I need a girlfriend!” Joshua whined.

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