#simply bc it falls under that! but thank you to whoever requested this! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jishyucks · 4 years

Text

Eight Count ‣ lmh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn

‣ wc: 10.8k

‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners

‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!

You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.

It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.

Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.

Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.

"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.

You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.

After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.

A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?

Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.

It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.

"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."

You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.

Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.

Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."

"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"

"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.

"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.

You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."

This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."

ii.

"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"

"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.

"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"

"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.

"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.

You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.

This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."

Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.

It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.

The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.

"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.

"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.

As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.

"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.

Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"

Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.

"What else do you think?"

Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.

"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.

"Easy for you to say," you sighed.

From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.

You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.

Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.

"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."

"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.

Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?

Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.

"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.

"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.

Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"

"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."

You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.

"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."

"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.

You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.

Right?

iii.

"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.

Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.

Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"

"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.

"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.

"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.

Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"

"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"

"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.

"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.

Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.

"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."

"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"

Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"

"I'm…?"

"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.

"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.

Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.

But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.

iv.

The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.

"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.

"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."

"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.

"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."

"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.

"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."

"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"

Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."

Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.

Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.

"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.

Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."

Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"

"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.

"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."

"But professor–"

Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.

Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.

At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."

"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."

The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.

"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.

The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.

"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.

"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.

"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.

Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.

Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.

"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.

"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"

You replied.

"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.

"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."

"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"

Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.

The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.

"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.

"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.

You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.

He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.

"Done staring at me yet?"

You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.

"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."

An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.

You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.

"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."

You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."

Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"

You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."

"And?"

"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."

"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"

"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."

"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.

"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."

"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.

"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.

The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.

Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.

Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.

The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.

Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.

He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.

"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.

You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.

"What the–"

"Join me!"

You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?

"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"

"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.

"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.

"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.

When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.

Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.

Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.

There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.

Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.

When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.

"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"

Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.

This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?

Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.

Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.

"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.

He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.

As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.

"No one."

None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.

Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.

"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.

Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."

"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.

You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"

"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"

"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.

Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."

Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.

You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.

"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.

"You already know," you elbowed him.

Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."

You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"

"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.

"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"

Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.

"No," you say flatly.

"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."

When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.

"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.

"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.

The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.

Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.

Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.

You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"

You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"

"Studying?"

"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."

Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.

Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.

"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.

Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"

"Just don't be loud."

Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.

You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.

The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.

Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.

"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."

He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.

"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.

"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."

Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'

vi.

Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.

There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.

"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.

"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.

You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?

Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.

"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.

Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.

"And?"

"And what?" Minho ridiculed.

"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.

Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"

The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."

Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"

"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."

"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.

"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."

"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."

"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"

"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.

Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.

"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.

"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'm not lying."

"You staring at me says otherwise."

"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"

Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.

Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.

You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.

"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."

You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."

She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.

The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.

You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.

You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.

You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.

You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.

"Minho? What in the world?"

He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."

"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"

Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.

"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.

"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.

"Weren't you just leaving?"

"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.

"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."

"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.

"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.

"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"

"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.

"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."

Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."

No judgment.

The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.

"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"

Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?

"Because you care."

You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"

"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.

How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.

You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"

"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."

"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.

"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.

"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.

Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"

There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.

"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?

"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."

"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.

"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.

"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"

"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.

Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.

His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"

Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."

Bonus:

"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.

"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."

"Well, you look very handsome."

Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.

"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.

He was right.

"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.

"We shall."

Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3

215 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 4 years

Note

hiii could you do a drabble with Din?? I was thinking he doesn’t know you have anxiety yet and you’re having a panic attack and he doesn’t rlly know how to handle them?? I thought #16 would be perfect bc protector Din is like “I will fuck up whatever is making you feel like this” (surprise bucket head, it’s their own brain)

Melting Dew [Din Djarin x GN!Reader]

Prompt no.16 “Who hurt you?” — thank you for the request!

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attack, body dysmorphia, food mention, domestic!Din, Din and reader have pre-established relationship.

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2000>

Masterlist

Din wasn't meant to be back for at least two more hours. The farmers market was about a three mile walk away from where he'd parked the Razor Crest, and he'd taken Grogu with him this time, who was sure to preoccupy Din whilst you were unable to accompany him. You'd spent the past week beaming at the thought of returning to Naboo, and craving the delicious, juicy taste of their native sourberries. Last night, before you fell asleep in Din's arms, you excitedly told him how you were going to purchase enough sourberries to last the entirety of the upcoming bounty hunting season. Din jokingly rolled his eyes at your comment and pressed a chaste kiss into your forehead, always finding your love for the simpler things in life extremely endearing.

Din Djarin spent the majority of his life a lone warrior. But upon meeting you and rescuing Grogu, it seemed like that all changed— and quickly, too. Now he was providing for the little green bean he called 'son', and you, the most beautiful, interesting and equally important person he'd ever laid his eyes on. Your appearance was soft, delicate, and your features were doe-like. In a galaxy filled with hatred and war, you were the epitome of hope and innocence. How could he not love you? He admired your attitude and excitement for life, and he adored the way you cared for Grogu unconditionally, like he was your own child. You were unlike any other person he'd ever met before. You were as pure as melting dew.

So of course he was protective over you. You, Din and Grogu had scowered the most dangerous depths of the galaxy and you all had your fair share of abuse from Imps, crime syndicates and immoral scoundrels. But there were people out there who tried to hurt you. However, they could never even get close to drawing a knife to your neck. Din was always one step ahead. Messing with you was no game. He hadn't let a single one of them live.

You'd awoken early this morning, quietly slipping out of bed and padding over to your closet in search for an appropriate outfit for the day ahead. You picked out a white tunic and embroided belt, along with some brown boots; but strangely enough, none of it seemed to fit. This was your favourite outfit and you wore it on practically all your days off. You loved the flow of it, and the way it hugged all the curves and accents of your body. But today... something wasn't right. The stitched tunic was tight around your arms and boxy on your shoulders, and as you looked in the full length mirror, your heart sank in your chest. The boots made everything worse. The belt didn't hang on your body correctly. And hell, it wasn't even just the clothes. There was something wrong with your hair today too— and your skin had broken out— and the dark circles that graced your under eyes had become significantly more prominent. You felt completely and utterly disgusting. There was no other word to describe it.

You heard Grogu stir from the quarters and you knew it wouldn't be long until he and Din woke up. You felt so embarrassed. So ashamed. The Mandalorian was an esteemed bounty hunter, best in the Guild, and also your husband— but Kriff, if he seen you like this... he'd shove you off his ship and make the jump to hyperspace within seconds! Panic filled you and the palms of your hands became clammy. He couldn't see you like this. He couldn't.

Just as you anticipated, you heard Grogu's garbles, signifying that the child was now awake and ready for breakfast. Din groaned something incoherent and you glanced over to him as he shuffled amongst the blankets. Your mind was still racing. If he saw you like this, he would for sure leave you. You had to hide. But where?

You bolted to the other side of Din's quarters and into the Refresher, turning on the shower and discarding the clothes that had made you feel so monstrous on the floor. Din heard the screeching noise of the Refresher and thought it was strange you were showering so early. The water was always particularly cold on a morning, and you knew this. Nevertheless, he shrugged it off and headed over to grab some pots and pans. He was preparing bone broth for breakfast.

When you didn't join the duo, Din left a bowl of broth for you in the cockpit of his ship. After he finished washing the dishes, he knocked on the Refresher door. "Cyare, are you alright?" he called, his voice rife with concern.

"Y-yes, I'm okay." you lied through gritted teeth. You were sat on the cold tiled floor, a towel hugging your body as you shivered uncontrollably.

"I was going to leave now... for the farmer's market. The walk is quite far so I wanted to set off early. Are you still coming?" Din asked curiously, his gloved hand nervously tracing the details of the steel door.

"I think I'll skip today, but have fun with Grogu, and stay safe." You tried to sound as optimistic and normal as usual, but behind the closed door, a silent tear slipped down your cheek. There was a brief silence and you had considered maybe Din had already left. But then you heard his modulated voice again.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" He knew how much you'd looked forward to going to the farmers market. It was all you had been talking about for the past week. Sourberries.

"I'm fine!" you forced a smile, even though he couldn't see.

Din wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to push you. If you said you were fine, so be it. He believed you. He had no reason not to trust you when you'd been nothing but honest to him since the very day you met him, all those moons ago.

Once you were sure he was gone, you pulled your pajamas back over your head, and climbed into bed. You felt safe, and free from any judgement. You were all alone. And that meant you could cry. So, you did. You sobbed for what felt like hours. You laid on your side and clutched the thin blanket tight to your chest, almost like you were hugging it for comfort. Your whimpers echoed against the interior of the Crest and this was the only time you had been thankful for Din and Grogu not being around.

Until you heard the entrance to the Crest shoot open, with that all too familiar whizzing noise. Dank Farrik— they were back early. They were back and you weren't even dressed. Your eyes were red and puffy, your hair was sticking up in places. You were, to put simply, a mess. But you felt like you were no less of a mess than what you were when you had worn the white tunic and embroided belt this morning whilst they were still asleep. You sunk under the covers of the bed and tried to hide from them. You prayed to the Maker that perhaps Grogu would help you out and use one of his magical force abilities to make you invisible. Then you'd never have to face the oncoming conversation with Din. The conversation that was inevitable.

"Cyar'ika?" Din asked, putting Grogu down on the floor and approaching you hesitantly. Thankfully, Grogu was more preoccupied with the little silver beskar ball he'd always play with. It came from one of the many levers on the Razor Crest. Din gently pulled away the blankets, revealing your tired glazed eyes and your tear stained cheeks. "Oh, my love. What... what happened?"

You didn't answer, feeling a swell of guilt erupt in your stomach. Din removed his helmet and placed it on the nightstand, and your heart jumped at the mere sight of your husband. His dark eyebrows were furrowed together in bewilderment and his honey colour eyes raked your body. "Who hurt you?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave. It was low and gravely; and you knew he was very serious. "Cyare... did something happen? Did someone-"

"No." you cut him off quickly.

No? Din's mind couldn't compute that answer. There was clearly something very wrong, and Din had to find out what exactly it was. Someone must've done something. You were fine yesterday. Had someone been on the ship while he and Grogu were out?

"Whoever or whatever it is— I can fix it. I will hunt them down cyare, you hear me? They won't know what hit them. I can-"

"Din stop," you pleaded with weak gasp, bringing your hands up to hide your face. You felt nothing but shame. "It's not... it's not like that. It's me."

Din's expression changed almost immediately. His face softened, his perfect plush lips parted slightly at your confession. He sat on the edge of the bed and took your hand. "What do you mean?" he quizzed quietly, although he had an inkling he already knew what you meant.

"I got up early this morning, excited to venture out to the farmers market with you and Grogu. Excited to go sourberry picking. But when I got dressed, it was like... something just hit me. I can't put it into words but I just felt so... so... ugly."

Once again, Din's brain simply could not compute your revelation. Ugly? You? How could you possibly feel that way. You shared the likeness of an angel. How could it be?

You swallowed and continued. "And then I got afraid. I got so scared that you'd see me the way I see me, and you wouldn't want to be with me anymore. That you'd run away from me and leave me behind." you shrugged helplessly. Now the tears were beginning to free fall.

"I could never, ever, think that of you, riduur. I love you so much. How could I possibly leave you? Without you, my life would end. It would be meaningless." Din revealed, his chocolate eyes glossy as he cupped your face with his large hand. His thumb traced the height of your cheekbone and you found yourself subconsciously leaning into his touch.

"Don't say things like that," you whispered, shaking your head. "You don't need me around... you already had everything under control before me."

"But nobody to make me smile. Nobody to make me laugh. Nobody to bring me joy... or show me the pleasure of how to love, and be loved in return." Din huffed, pressing his forehead against yours. "Next time you feel this way, please don't hide it from me. Whatever you're going through, we go through it together. Okay?"

You sniffed before finally nodding your head in affirmation. "Okay Din."

Din leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, the curve of his nose bumping into your cheek as he manouvered his body carefully over you. "So beautiful, and all mine." He purred lovingly before licking a stripe over your lower lip. You moaned wantonly and interwined your fingers in his curly brown locks of hair.

It was moments like this that you cherished forever. The sweet touches and soft murmers that made you void of all worry and insecurity; because in that moment, all that mattered was you and your riduur.

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #grogu #star wars #baby yoda

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Note

hi so i just thought of this scrolling through tik tok and a vid popped with the song sleepwalk playing and i was wonder if you could write a one shot or something where harry styles and y/n meet at a halloween party and y/n is dressed as the corpse bride and harry is dressed as victor and they dance to the song sleepwalk

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST!! I love the corpse bride and also have been meaning to get some writing up so I really grinded to get this out bc im literally busy 99.99% of the time at college so I hope you all enjoy and happy halloween OH AND BE SAFE AND COVID CONSCIOUS this would take place when covid is gone/doesn’t exist. LOVE YALL remember to like, reblog and whatever

(i dont usually take requests but always feel free to message me bc i just might do it!!)

---

On October 30th, she ascended the grand stairs that led to the entrance of the mansion. Within said mansion, there was the Halloween party of the year raging within. She hadn’t thought too much about what was going to happen when she arrived. The host was a colleague from work… that usually means it’s casual. Except for when you work in Hollywood and your colleague from work is actually famous and invited all of their elite celebrity friends.

As it was her first Halloween in Los Angeles the rules weren’t exactly crystal clear. She strode up the stairs and was greeted by her friend from work. He was dressed as Quentin Tarantino and she laughed at the inside joke from work that surrounded that costume. They hugged and kissed and then he directed her into the room and pointed out the bar at her request.

When she reached the bar, eager for a drink, she was greeted with many smiling faces. A celebrity party was so strange. She saw actors and actresses commingling with musicians and other random celebrities you would have never guessed would know each other. Then, on top of that, they were all in the most elaborate costumes money could buy.

A specific costume stood out to her. A tall slender man, painted with rather pale skin and gaunt features, was dressed as Victor from the Corpse Bride. It wasn’t a particularly uncommon costume as the movie was particularly popular and it was relatively easy. Why it caught her eye? She was dressed as Victor’s counterpart, the namesake of the movie, the Corpse Bride Emily. She had felt a little self conscious about the revealing and torn wedding dress she had found. Her blue wig and makeup made her stand out enough, she didn’t feel like being the center of attention.

Luckily for her, celebrities are self-involved so she didn’t have to worry about that all. But, now she wondered about the man across the way from her. He was laughing and casually sipping a beverage with his presumed friends. As she waited for her drink, she watched him. The way he moved was entrancing. He seemed much more lively than the character he was portraying and it made her smile.

With her drink in hand, she took a sip and glanced around the room she was in. The dj was in the corner, spinning music that was Halloween and others. It had only been upbeat since she got there. About three songs had passed and just as it began to finally change to something slow, her eyes roamed to her Victor once more. This time though she wasn’t just looking at the side of his smiling face or the glint of his jawline as he listened to his friend. This time she was met with his wild eyes. They were piercing and strong. They were entrancing. Normally she would look away quickly when accidentally making eye contact with a stranger, but she couldn’t with him.

Sleepwalk began to play and it felt like the world began spinning in slow motion. Her Victor crossed the room towards her and she took a shaky sip of her drink, unsure what she was supposed to do as the man approached her. Like we said, she wasn’t exactly well-versed in how celebrities acted at parties. Was it normal for people to introduce themselves to absolute strangers. Plus, she couldn’t quite make out who this guy was under all the makeup he had on.

“Hello there, Emily,” he says as he stands closely to her. Not alarmingly so, simply close in an inviting and comforting way.

She’s not nervous anymore. His smile and presence calm her instantly.

“Victor,” she gives a curt yet flirty nod of her head.

“Would you like to dance with me, my bride?”

She laughs, unable to stop herself. “I’d love to, my darling!”

He extended his hand to her and she took it graciously, following his lead to the center of the room, where couples had begun to pair up and sway.

The somber tune floods the room as he takes her in his arms, pulling her close to his warm body. The fabric of his suit felt expensive underneath her hand that rested on his strong shoulder. His hands were big and warm too, full of rings and painted black. She felt utterly safe and welcomed despite just meeting him.

She leaned in and breathed in his cologne. Up close she felt like she recognized the man under the makeup, but she still wasn’t sure. As she studied him, he smiled down at her with an amused smirk on his face.

“What’s on your mind?” His voice sounds gravelly over the old-timey guitar strumming in the background.

“I can’t figure out who you are for the life of me.”

“I’m Victor,” He grins.

“Who you really are,” she pats his shoulder, swaying with him, following his movements gracefully despite the heels she had on.

“Does it matter?” He leans down and looks in her eyes, a smile still resting on his beautiful lips. His eyes once again are piercing and she swears she recognizes them from somewhere.

She knows it shouldn't, she just hates the nagging feeling that she should know who he is.

“No...so how do you know the host?”

“I don’t remember agreeing to play twenty questions. Do you?”

She laughs into his shoulder, her head deciding to rest there, rather than be entranced by his face.

“Fine, silence it is, my darling.”

He snorts and nestles his head on top of hers.

“Don’t be mad, pet. It’s Halloween.”

She smiles at the nickname and his soothing voice.

The song begins to fade just as they really feel like it’s going to last forever. She lifts her head as another song comes on. He looks at her, expectantly.

“It was lovely having this dance with you, Emily,” He says when she’s silent.

“My name is Y/N. But yes it was really nice dancing with you...whoever you are.”

“It’s Harry. I’m Harry.” He finally admits and it all dawns on her, but she keeps calm. The pieces fall together easily in her head, how she knows him, why he’s here.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry. I hope you have a nice rest of your night.”

She begins to walk away but he grabs her forearm and she turns around to see a grinning Harry. “It’ll only be nice if I get to keep seeing your face. You’re dressed as Emily, not Cinderella, so don’t run away darling.”

Tonight was going to be unforgettable.

#harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #Harry styles Halloween #Harry styles request #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years

Text

The Holly And The Ivy

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Reader, Sigurd/Margrethe

Summary: “I had this idea where Sigurd (or any of the brothers really) were to marry a Christian, but their marriage is dry and more political than anything, but Ivar is fascinated by her attitude (being opposite of him) and her love for life and simple things. He hears the reader and who she's married to talking about how she loves Christmas and he shuts her down, but Ivar decides to let her pick out a tree from the forest and put it up in the Great Hall and decorate it any way she wants. And the ending would include a kiss under mistletoe? If you can work with it.”

I’m very sorry if I dissapoint you anon, but the story was easier or smoother for me to write as a Modern!AU. I really hope you don’t mind. I can try something in the actual time period still, if you are not happy with au’s.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, passing mentions of abusive relationships (not involving any of the relationsips in the tag btw), angst, my poor attempt at holiday fics or holiday spirit. Also, a part is not smut or explicit but getting closer to it than most of my work, so that too.

A/N: I really hope I don’t dissapoint whoever requested this. Also, I made this way more complicated than it needed to be, bc I always do, and for that I’m also sorry. Hope you like this, thank you for reading!

The title is from a Christmas carol, cause why not lol

Taglist: @1950schick @youbloodymadgenius (I realized you once asked to be tagged on my Vikings works and I forgot, sorry)

“When we are done with this trip we’ll go back home.” Sigurd points out one night as you both say goodnight, in some hotel somewhere in Norway.

“Home?”

“To my mother’s, in a week. Family time and all that.”

Before you are to leave for your own room, you call out, “For Christmas?”

The blond shakes his head, “Yule. You can celebrate your Christmas when we return.”

“That’ll be after the New Year!” You complain softly, offering a smile because you cannot help it.

“I will have to deal with Ivar and my mother, you can deal with this.” Sigurd sentences, the harshness startling you and prompting you to accept the words with a nod.

He mutters a goodnight again, hesitating for a moment on his bedroom door, as if questioning whether he should say sorry or not. You choose to relieve him of that choice, going into your own room and closing the door with a quiet click.

As if it were waiting for the door to close, your phone lights up on your nightstand.

How’s Oslo?

You type a quick response,

You could just ask me if we’ll be attending your mother’s celebrations, you know.

The response takes a while longer, and you cannot help the smile that pulls at your lips.

…Are you?

I expect all those lessons of yours with Floki to come to use. I’m going to need to learn about Yule, apparently.

So I’m supposed to teach you?

Who else?

Your fiancé. Is the reply you get, so fast you think he already knew what your reply was going to be before you even sent it. After a moment, before you can even think on what to answer, another message comes through. Nvm, my brother is useless. I’ll do it.

Your lips pull into a wide and stupid smile, and God, not even the shame at the quick beating of your heart or the warmth that spreads through you could make you be any less thankful for this, if anything. For him.

Thank you. Are you going to be there by Christmas?

This time the answer takes a while longer, and the indication that he is typing appears and disappears a few times.

I don’t know. Before you can ask anything, or send anything, a new message pops up. Princess, this doesn’t get any easier. I don’t know if I can.

Tears rise in your eyes because a part of you knows you’re meant to say goodbye at the end, and every time you are reminded, either by the pain in your own chest or Ivar’s words, that you are on borrowed time; you realize that end is close than you think.

Well, in that case, Merry Christmas, Ivar.

____

You find yourself being driven to that massive and fancy house by your fiancé.

You toy with your engagement ring as the car approaches the house. You know, rationally, that you have nothing to fear. The brothers have never been mean or hurtful -well, most of them haven’t-, and Aslaug has always been courteous and kind and…incredibly performative.

A part of you never ceased to feel like an outsider looking in. Between the pariah that a stupid business practice will be made into Sigurd’s wife, and the silent and soft woman they ignore as if she were another piece of furniture, you’d much rather be the latter.

“Heavy little thing, isn’t it?” Sigurd teases as he turns off the engine, motioning with his head to the rings on your left hand.

You don’t say anything in response, simply getting out of the car in silence. You know he meant well, he always does.

But a part of you that is hopeful and childish and still looks at the snow that starts to fall lightly over the ground as some miracle that means Christmas is upon us…that part of you cannot help but feel bitter about it all. Regretful, or, maybe, resentful.

You never imagined life would be this, engagement -marriage- would be this. You thought of happiness and warmth and fidelity.

Foolish hopes, really. The hopes of a child that watched her parents dance to the light of the Christmas lights, to the music of the soft music her father hummed. Nothing but foolish hopes.

So, when Sigurd steps out and hesitates in offering you his hand, you offer a smile and take his hand in yours, choosing to appreciate that at least the man you will be forced to marry is one you might call a friend, a partner, one day.

It is easy to forget, it is easy to let your heart be light and just enjoy the adorable giggles of Björn and Torvi’s children, the sympathetic smile of Margrethe, the warm and brotherly embrace of Hvitserk.

You are sipping on wine and watching Ubbe throw Asa over his head as she yells for him to throw her higher when a presence stands by your side and a wine glass clinks with your own in silent toast.

“I know you know about Sigurd and me,” Margrethe whispers, “And I want you to know I am sorry. But…I won’t leave him, not until he asks me to.”

If a year ago someone told you that you’d spent Christmas Eve being told by your fiancé’s mistress that she refuses to stop seeing him, you would have assumed the world turned on its head.

It did, but…you still find it in you to love this world that hurts you, this life that tests you.

You offer a smile, “I know you love him. It started as…”

“Gold-digging?” The blonde supplies, a sheepish grimace on her face.

“I wouldn’t be as unkind as to-…”

“You should. That’s what it was,” Her smile loses the edge, and she falters, “At first.”

You accept her words with a nod, and another sip of your wine.

“Then as long as you are discreet, I don’t mind. Keep him happy, Margrethe, he deserves it.”

You start to walk away when she stops you with a call of your name.

“And you don’t? Deserve to be happy, I mean.”

You hesitate, faltering for a few seconds too long. Her blue eyes are big and uncharacteristically honest as they look at you.

“I…”

You take your gaze off hers, because it feels like she will know something she shouldn’t, something you don’t want her to; but your eyes betray you, it seems.

“Oh, him. Well-kept secret, that one,” She states, and when you open your mouth to argue, Margrethe shakes her head, “It’s okay, I don’t…I don’t blame you. Even if I don’t understand at all how that came to be.”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?” The blonde supplies, and you allow yourself a smile, you loosen your shoulders and close your eyes with a deep breath.

“Ivar, he…understands me.”

“But you two are nothing alike,” She states, and at your shrug, concedes, “Maybe that’s why.”

“Maybe,” You offer, and after a breath, because bitter regret at being the thing that keeps her from the man she loves chokes you for a moment, “Margrethe, I…”

“Don’t you even think of apologizing to me,” She laughs, “Gods, woman, you truly are a soft thing, aren’t you?”

“I have the privilege of being it.” You offer with a kind smile, because you’ve seen the scars, because you remember her when she was more fragile.

Margrethe shakes her head, “The burden.” She corrects, and with a soft squeeze of her free hand on your arm, she walks away.

____

It’s on the day before Christmas that the last of the Lothbrok arrives. You walk down the stairs to a very early breakfast, and jump when the front door opens to reveal Ubbe and Ivar.

He came.

“You are up early.” Ubbe comments as he passes you by, dropping a kiss on your cheek.

You greet Ubbe absently, your eyes on his brother. Numbly, you hear him say something about telling Aslaug that Ivar has come home, and quick steps carrying him up the stairs.

Your lips curve into a smile, or at least they try to, “Hi.”

“Hello, Princess,” Ivar greets, what months ago would have been a smirk curving his lips. Now, now it’s more tired and worn than anything. “Just in time for your…Christmas, right?”

You nod, feeling the stupid urge to cry, “Yeah. Means a lot, you know.”

“Well, I could feel you pouting over the phone, love,” His eyes check the stairs before he moves aided by his crutch towards you with a wince of pain -the cold, you remind yourself, the cold making his legs ache-, and once he is before you, a hand that shouldn’t feel as tender as it does cups your cheek and brings your mouth to his. “I couldn’t leave you alone here. You always find ways to embarrass yourself.”

You chuckle, burrowing your head on his chest as you embrace him.

“I may have fucked up a few times,” You concede, eyes closed as you take in his scent, his warmth, “But I’m cute, I get away with a lot of things.”

____

As the timer on your phone dings, you get up from the couch, leaving a warm but strong drink behind, and make your way to the kitchen, ready to take out the sponge cake -no, a voice too alike Ivar corrects you, Bûche de Noël-.

Uneven steps behind you let you know of who walked in behind you, and you turn around with a slight frown on your brows, meaning to ask something before he interrupts you.

“He’s groping and kissing her in front of you, and you say nothing?” Ivar demands, anger shining clearly in his blue eyes.

“Sigurd and Margrethe?” You ask, and shake your head, “Why would I say anything?”

“You know about them.”

“Of course I do. He doesn’t hide it from me, and he shouldn’t hide it from his family. He loves her, and she loves him.”

“You don’t care that he’s humiliating you?” He presses, and you sigh.

“Everyone here knows how things truly are between Sigurd and me.”

Ivar’s mouth curls into a snarl, and cruelty spews from his lips, “Well, if you had let Ragnar know you had no problem letting your husband fuck whoever he wants, you might have been able to marry Björn, like your father wanted.”

You close your eyes, “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, hm? Like someone that’s watching the woman he-…What am I supposed to be then, hm? What would make you happy?” He accuses, not losing the cruel edge in his voice even if you both know what he stopped himself from admitting. When you don’t answer, Ivar takes a deep and angry breath through his nose, “I’ve always been jealous of my brothers, you know this. Growing up their poor crippled brother is nothing to knowing Sigurd gets you and doesn’t even know what he-…what I’d do to be him.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Make him be the man you deserve!”

“He’s not the man I want,” You point out before you can keep the words trapped behind your lips. Ivar is inexplicably stunned by your words, it seems, and you lower your gaze. Resting your hands on the counter you drop your shoulders and shake your head, letting go of the previous argument and returning to…peace, or as close to it as one can get with Ivar. “Your brother deserves to be as happy as he can, with the woman he loves. It will not hurt me to see him with her. As long as-…”

“‘As long as it is discreet’, yes, I know. My mother and Ragnar have the same agreement.”

“It works for them, does it not?”

Ivar meets your gaze and doesn’t answer for a few moments, long enough that dread sets in your chest and questions arise in your mind.

Eventually, on the side of his jaw the clear tell of gritted teeth, he replies,

“Not as well as you think.”

“Well, Sigurd and I are friends, we…things will work out. They have to.”

“They have to, of course,” He mocks, moving his head as he rolls his eyes, “Anything to keep Ragnar and your father happy, hm?”

“Ivar…”

His eyes search yours, searching for the answer to a question he has not yet asked,

“I-If I asked you not to do this, if I…if I asked you for more time…” He leaves the words hanging between you, and you blink past helpless tears. He knows the answer, you know the answer.

Thankfully, you don’t have to remind him -and yourself- of the world you live in, of the lives you were meant to live, because the door to the kitchen opens and Aslaug walks through.

You keep your eyes firmly set on the tray before you, even though you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, demanding an answer. When he realizes he will not get one, he grunts, a clenched fist hitting the counter once before he walks away.

“I’m sorry.” You offer the matriarch as she keeps her all-seeing eyes on you, but Aslaug offers a smile. A fake one, but a smile nonetheless.

“The cold gets to Ivar, it makes him irritable. It is not your fault.” She soothes, but the smile you offer her in thanks still trembles. You both know these are lies you are sharing with one another, and though it makes you falter and stumble, Aslaug moves gracefully from one lie to the next.

“I’ll-…” You point behind you, to the living room, but the woman shakes her head.

“Surely you have time to help me with this?” She asks. It feels like walking into a wolf’s den when you nod your head and approach her.

“Of course.”

She watches raptly as you assist her in preparing the Yule Log, and you focus on doing your best to keep your hands from trembling.

“For someone that doesn’t follow the Gods, you know a lot about tradition, girl.”

“I…It was the least I could do, learning about what is important to your family, to Sigurd.” You offer, and whatever she -who always has the look of someone that sees beyond what normal eyes can- can sense in your words makes Aslaug stop.

She turns to you, and surprises you with a hand on your cheek. The woman towards over you, but the gentleness in her touch, the warmth in her eyes, they help you to not feel threatened.

“Still loving the world that hurts you, sweet thing?”

“It’s all I know how to do.”

Aslaug’s smile is almost sad when she looks into your eyes, “To love, yes, I know. Wish I saw that sooner,” You don’t know what to answer to that, so you offer her only a shaky smile and a shrug. Aslaug chuckles gently, “And you love my son, don’t you?”

The terrifying thought that she knows what she’s doing when not saying any names, the realization nothing gets past her and neither did whatever is between you and Ivar, it all settles in your stomach with a dead weight.

Still, whether she asks about Sigurd or Ivar, the answer is the same.

“Yes.”

One as a friend, a partner, a man you can learn to respect and build a life alongside of. The other, as everything you ever wanted, as someone that will always make you wonder about the ‘what if’s.

She shakes off whatever takes a hold of her, and before you can ask what she means, why it pains her, she steps back from you and turns her back to you.

“You know, Ragnar isn’t the only one in this family with an eye for business. I was once in the same position you are now, the heiress to an empire,” Aslaug’s smile seems to thaw as she hands you a refilled glass of wine to match hers. Resting her backside on the counter behind her, she continues, “My parents were able to teach me a few valuable lessons before their death.

She grabs your left hand, stopping you. Her eyes look deeply into yours, but her thumb rolls your engagement ring on your finger.

“Like how to understand when I can’t make any more moves. And when I can change the wording in a deal to make it favor me.

Your lips part, you think to say something, but Aslaug stops you with a smile.

“Let’s hope you’ve learned the same lessons, my dear.”

____

Ubbe is dancing with Asa standing on his feet, and you watch with a smile on your face as the family enjoys time together, and celebrates the holidays in their own way.

A part of you misses the Christmas lights, the decorations you’d help your parents put up when you were a kid. A part of you misses how simple life was back then, how in this time of year you could forget there was a world past the snow drifting down and the warmth of a hearth and a home.

Ivar comes right up to you, but doesn’t sit next to you, choosing to remain standing.

“Grab your coat,” He orders, and at your confused frown, he rolls his eyes and amends, “Please.”

The most insincere please in the history of pleases, but you know you get more than most, so you don’t comment on it.

Still, you have to ask, “Why?”

“I-…a surprise,” He says, and insists you move with a gesture of his head, “Come on.”

You follow him to the small house the Lothbroks have by the pool, a cozy little home of big windows. When Ivar motions for you to go in ahead of him, a part of you is suspicious, but you still skip your way inside and try not to ask questions as to how it is so warm here when it should be vacant.

Ivar turns the lights on, and you find in the middle of the living room a Christmas tree.

The tree is bare, but still lively and familiar.

You turn to Ivar with tears in your eyes, because you cannot help it.

“You did this for me?”

“You love your Christmas,” He mumbles, embarrassed at the reaction his -to some, uncharacteristic- thoughtfulness got out of you. “I figured you deserved to have some of it with you here.”

“Did you buy Christmas lights?” You ask softly, almost moving up and down in the balls of your feet in excitement, eyeing the bags on a chair nearby.

Ivar chuckles, endeared, and nods, “Go ahead, Princess.”

You skip your way to the bags, quickly looking over the goods and already planning on how to decorate it, how to make it look pretty, how to make it yours.

You don’t truly know how long you spend on it, gleefully putting up Christmas lights, and little ornaments. During the whole time you spent excitedly decorating the tree, you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, and when you look back at him you find him staring with a strange softness in his gaze.

You choose not to think too much on it, and instead ask his opinion on the decorations, that he gives gruffly and with a very poor attempt at making you believe that -either because Christmas grew on him, which you find very unlikely, or because of your own happiness- he isn’t happy to be here.

____

You smile at the warm and twinkling lights, and burrow closer to Ivar’s warmth, refusing to take your eyes off the dancing lights and refusing to put your feet back on the ground.

Refusing to step out of the fantasy that this could be your life.

Ivar shifts his position, and you lift your head from the juncture between his neck and shoulder and meet his eyes in question.

His eyes give away so much, always have, at least to you. And now they reflect the warm sparkle of the Christmas lights, and they reflect hesitation, fear, uncertainty, love.

Before you can ask what is wrong, Ivar leans in, his hand previously around you tangling in your hair as his lips claim yours.

His kiss is always demanding, but this time it holds desperation in the way Ivar begs for your lips to part with his own, it holds an urgency in the way his tongue dances with yours, it holds a ragged edge in the shaky breath that he lets out through his nose, it holds a goodbye in the way he ends the kiss as if forcing himself to pull away from you.

You try getting your breath under control and your voice to be yours again, but he’s so close, and warm, and yours; and all you want to do is kiss him again.

Kiss him again, and make the furrow in his brow, the pain in his eyes, go away. Kiss him again, and pretend you are not living on borrowed time.

So you do.

You kiss him, and take control of the kiss, and make him groan lightly against your mouth when you tug on his hair, and whimper his name against his own when you straddle him and feel him getting hard underneath you.

When your need for breath makes you part from his kiss, Ivar wastes no time trailing fervent kisses down your neck, panting breaths against the hot skin that he kisses and licks and bites.

You moan his name, forgetting everything but the touch of his lips on your skin, forgetting everything but the scent and taste and feel of him.

Either at the sound of your voice or the grind of your hips against his hardening cock, Ivar’s breath stutters and he breathes your name back at you, voice low.

His brow rests against your collarbone as he takes deep breaths, and your fingers toy at the hair that flows down to his shoulders.

“You know…” He murmurs, pressing a kiss that makes you shiver right on the dip between your collarbones, “There’s nothing I want more right now than marking this pretty neck of yours. Leaving you with…” His teeth scrape against your skin, a tease both for you and himself. Ivar does it a few more times, and moves up your neck again. Your breath shudders past your lips, and you tug on his hair to remind him of what he was saying. You always did love hearing him speak. For all the months you spend apart, his voice telling you what he’d do to you, what he’d have you do to him, is all that keeps you warm. Ivar chuckles, but continues, “Leaving you with my mark all over you, where everyone can see, so…so that they don’t doubt you’re mine.

His hands tighten on your waist, before they travel down, caressing your thighs as he sighs.

“But you’re not, are you? And I can’t…I can’t do any of that. I can’t-…”

You interrupt him before his thoughts can get ahead of him, before he can twist himself into knots about the situation you are both in.

“I am yours. Only yours.” You remind him softly, your lips by his ear. You lean back so you can meet his eyes, and seal your promise with a soft kiss over his lips.

Ivar’s eyes search yours when you pull back, with the same look as before. Uncertain, lost, tender and yet almost sad.

“Marry me.” He whispers, keeping his eyes on yours.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide. He couldn’t have…he knows that…none of this makes any sense.

“Marry me instead of Sigurd,” He insists, and as if remembering the part he forgot, he curses and hurries to fetch something from his pocket. He offers you a simple but beautiful ring, and swallows, “I-I can make you happier than he ever could, I…I love you.

I know you can, you already do.

I love you too.

But you can’t say any of that, because your breaths are shallow and your head is filled with thoughts and…and you need space.

You scramble to stand, to put distance between the two of you. After a few controlled breaths, you return your eyes to Ivar, whose hand has now fallen back to his lap even if he still holds on to the delicate ring.

He grits his teeth, the obvious tell at the side of his jaw, and he seems to want to divert his eyes from you, but he only blinks and keeps certain eyes on you.

“Your father wants you to marry one of Ragnar’s sons, he doesn’t care who. I…have talked with my father, he agrees that if you want to, we can…” He licks his lips in a nervous gesture, “Mother says any backlash from breaking the engagement can be handled.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“Of course I have, y-you’d be Sigurd’s wife if I didn’t think of something,” A twitch of anger, of uncertainty, of fear, on his face, and then he amends, “You still can be. But I want you to be able to choose.”

Choose me, is what he doesn’t say.

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and you try a few times before you can finally speak,

“Ivar, we haven’t…it’s been only a few months.”

“And it will not work out, that’s what you’re saying?” He huffs, defensive, “It won’t work out if you marry my brother either.”

“I-…this-…”

“Stop thinking of excuses,” He snaps, gritted teeth and hurt written in his eyes, “I’ll handle everything, no matter your answer. Just…just give me an answer, Princess.”

____

It is open ended cause there’s two ends to this, I wanted to leave the choice to you guys! So, follow the link for the epilogue of your choice:

Will you accept the proposal and be bound to Ivar, for better or worse?

Or will you stay with Sigurd, and be content with companionship and friendship?

Hope you liked this, even if it wasn’t very holiday-ey. I wish you all very happy holidays and a great (or decent, after 2020 I’m happy with decent) 2021!!

(Ik it’s like the 13th and I’m gonna be very much around here posting and bothering the whole lot of ya till the holidays and beyond, but holiday fic and all that, ‘twas the perfect time to send good wishes and all. Love ya!)

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar

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hunflowers · 5 years

Text

Femme Fatale

Word Count: 7.3k

Requested? Nope, but you always can here :)

Mood Board

A/N: I hope you enjoy my rendition of mafia!Harry bc I lowkey do not. Enjoy the smut and maybe leave some feedback when you’re done! *nose boops*

part 2 :)

The rivalry went back decades.

Growing up, they had no choice but to hate each other. It was practically in their blood because that’s how their ancestors were towards one another.

Besides, they tried the whole friendship thing when they were children, and it didn’t even work out then. Simply at first because their families forbade it. But they soon realized how annoying the other was as the years went on. And how badly they wish they could just strangle one another because that would be easier than ever becoming friendly.

It all started with their great-grandfathers, as most old rivalry stories do. They once worked in unison, in harmony as coworkers, cofounders, and friends. Once poor, they rose to the top as a team. But, when money started to become more prevalent, so did the truth of their relationship. They both wanted seniority, to run the business as a King rather than as a team. So, when heads were clashing and neither of them could bring themselves to kill the other, they did the only thing left, and split the business.

And from that point on, peace no longer existed.

Not only did the two men hate each other, but all of their workers started to hate the opposing side. No one thought there could be two leading imports in the city, because the city just wasn’t big enough for both egos. But even though chaos ensued ever since the split, people could say peace was also created. Because everyone was afraid to start a war they couldn’t finish. So, even though there were the casual breakouts and fights, nothing too major ever happened to the point where the city would practically cave in.

Except for now that is. Because Harry and Y/N hated each other that much. Everyone was afraid the other would snap soon and that could only lead to destruction.

Of course, the pair like to think they have it under control, but in reality, one wrong word spoken and the other is as good as dead.

People wondered who the Hell left them in charge because they were some of the most hot headed people to have ever walked this planet. But, in reality they really weren’t left a choice but to run the companies.

Harry’s father was never too into the whole business. Yeah, he got the job done but it wasn’t his first choice career wise. And seeing as he was an only child, he was left no choice but to stay in charge until Harry was ready. And the second he saw that Harry was mature enough for this responsibility, he immediately passed the throne down to him, thankful to have that weight off his shoulders.

As for Y/N, her father wanted her to have nothing to do with the business because it wasn’t a woman’s responsibility. He was thinking of handing the leadership down to his nephew, because he had always looked up to Y/N’s dad and had dreamed of being in charge one day. Of course, she found the whole ordeal ridiculous because the job was meant for her, and no one else.

Y/N was the eldest of her siblings, neither of them being boys. So, when the time would come the company had no choice but to fall in her hands. And even though the time came a lot quicker than she anticipated, she was beyond ready to take on the responsibility. Just a few days past her twenty-first birthday, Y/N’s father had died of a heart attack that was completely unwarranted. He took excellent care of his health, so to say it was a surprise was an understatement. But, even though the company sprung up on her, she prepared most of her life to be in charge and she wasn’t going to let her father down.

Despite Harry’s many attempts to prove her wrong and that she’d be a failure at running things, she would actually prove him wrong time and time again because products exported smoothly and income imported even smoother. And what she makes in a week is generally what he makes every month.

So, she’s doing pretty good she thinks.

But they did try to be friends once. When they were eleven, they shared a few of the same friends so their paths always crossed. So they decided they wouldn't be hostile towards one another because that was the rest of their family, not them. Fast forward to the age of twelve, and Harry and Y/N nearly get in a fist fight due to Harry hurting Y/N’s best friend, and Y/N doing the same to his.

Clearly, history would repeat itself and thus the two joined their families in hating the other.

That led them to where they are now, thirteen years later, and still a lot of hatred in the air.

Albeit, there was the rare occurrence of sexual tension in the air too but they choose not to dwell on that.

It was a one night thing. They were both completely plastered, and they hardly even remember it happening. Of course they tell different stories of that night, and it actually drew them farther apart, but again, they choose to not think about it at all.

It was only a one time thing.

But today. . . today really solidified their ongoing rivalry. Y/N was awoken this morning by the loud shrill of her ringtone blasting in her dark bedroom. She was tempted to not answer it because everyone knew not to call her so early in the morning, but then again, everyone knew not to call her so early in the morning so it must only be an emergency.

And it was the news on the other line that broke her heart and had Y/N flying out of her bed faster than light travelled. Earlier that morning, her youngest sister, Serena, was found in the bathroom of the local club, knocked unconscious whilst her clothes were nearly ripped to shreds. She had been drugged, raped, and stripped of her dignity and Y/N felt responsible. This ache in her chest was prominent because she felt it was her fault for some reason.

After their father’s passing, Serena had gone off the rails for a little while. She took it especially hard because even though all three of his daughters were his babies, Serena being the youngest was his special baby, and she found it very difficult to cope with the loss. So, when Serena did a little too much of experimenting with drugs or drinking, Y/N knew taking care of her baby sister was her main priority.

Hearing the news that her sister had been violated, Y/N couldn’t help but take it to heart. She hardly cared about the outfit she was wearing or what state her hair was in when she arrived at the hospital, all she wanted was to get to her sister.

When she entered her room, she was greeted by her mother and her other sister, Francesca, or Franny for short, already by her bed.

“How is she?” Y/N spoke quickly, taking in the look of her sister sleeping on the hospital bed.

Franny stood up so frantic Y/N could sit down and catch her breath after she practically ran through the hospital halls to find the room.

“She hasn’t woken up yet, but the doctor says she’s in stable condition,” her mother spoke, a shaky breath leaving her lips as she squeezes her daughter's hand.

Y/N bit her bottom lip to stop the urge to burst into tears, keeping her stone cold face in tact. “I swear, I am going to kill whoever did this. I’ll kill them myself, with my own two bare hands.”

“Y/N, please, not now,” Mom hissed. She hated that her daughter had gotten so involved in the business, and she most certainly hated that Y/N got her father’s temper. Her daughter hurting people is the last thing she wants to think about, especially while her other daughter is currently on a hospital bed.

“What, you don’t want whoever did this to pay?”

“Of course I do! By going to prison, not by my daughter’s two hands,” she glared at her eldest.

Y/N huffed, sifting back in her chair and trying to tie back her knotty hair in some sort of bun to get it out of her face before she screams. “Well, my way is a whole lot easier, and I can then guarantee whoever did gets justice served. Who knows what the legal system will do. Give ‘em three months maybe.”

“How about both of you shut your mouths, she’s waking up,” Franny spoke up, gaining the two’s attention immediately. Y/N sat forward, grabbing Serena’s right hand in her own.

The blinding light from the lamp above her head made Serena squint her eyes shut at the vivid brightness, her face distorting into in an uncomfortable grimace before she was able to open her eyes without the light hurting. She looked around at her family, confusion striking her features as she realized where she was.

“Wha– what happened?” She spoke hoarsely, her voice scratchy from probably being excessively dry.

When it was explained what had happened to her, she immediately broke down into tears, which then caused Y/N to let out her own tears. Again, that ping of guilt hitting her right in the heart.

“I know the police are going to ask you questions once they see you’re awake, but do you have any idea who did this to you? Anyone being suspicious towards you last night?” Y/N asked, keeping her voice in a hushed tone to try not to startle her sister in this fragile state.

Maybe it wasn’t the best timing for this but police would be here soon and this was Y/N’s job to find the person who did this, who hurt her family, her blood.

Serena swallowed, closing her eyes to try and remember anything from the night before. She started to shake her head because most of the night was a blur in her head but then she did remember one specific detail that was probably the most important.

Her eyes snapped open as she looked at Y/N, the realization of how important the detail is dawning on her. “He had a uh– tattoo on his arm. It was the. . . Styles emblem.”

Y/N practically shot out of her seat, fuming at just the name of Styles. She hardly left with a goodbye before she was storming out of the building and into her car. Of course it was someone from his side that had the audacity to do something like this. To step onto her side of the city, to do this to her sister.

If you know Y/N, you know her family, so whoever it was knew exactly what they were getting themselves into, and that just made Y/N even angrier. Her hands were practically itching to grab ahold of this guys neck and twist it like a rope.

She zipped her way in and out of traffic, trying to make it to her destination without any fatalities but still getting there as fast as possible. And when she did get there she hardly remembered to put the car in park and to shut it off before she was running inside and to the elevator.

She got a lot of nasty looks from everyone that saw her figure running across the lobby, and she knew why but she didn’t give the time of day to care. Because the boss herself was stepping onto the wrong territory.

When she made it to the right floor, and to the right door, she pounded her fist rapidly on the wood, urging anyone inside to open the fucking door.

And when the door finally did swing open, she was face to face with the one face she was hoping to not see anytime soon but yet at this time she couldn’t avoid him any longer.

“You better have a good reason to be knocking on my door this fucking early in the morning,” Harry spat down at the girl in front of him.

Y/N looked over his shoulder to see two people, a random guy and a girl on the couch in his office, both nearly naked. Then she looked at Harry and saw that his own clothes were disheveled as he probably haphazardly tossed them on his body to open the door.

“Really, in your office?” Y/N droned, pushing past him and into the large space and giving the two a nasty look to state get out.

“I don’t really need your fucking comments so how about you just leave?”

“No, they have to though,” she gestured to the two who were looking around the room quite uncomfortably, not exactly sure what to do with themselves in this moment.

“You don’t boss me around.”

Y/N sighed at his frustrating attitude, trying to keep her cool in front of bystanders, but it was pretty difficult when she was dealing with the most difficult man on the planet. “Harry. . .” she began, looking at him with these pleading eyes that meant something was wrong. Y/N hated looking weak, especially in front of him, but if it got him to cooperate for once, then so be it.

“It’s important business, that they have no part in.”

He looked at Y/N with a hard look, really not wanting to let his fun night come to a close all because she said so. But, he could tell from the way her eyes were the slightest shade of red and how she was still dressed in her pajamas in front of him that whatever this was must have some sort of emergent reasoning.

He looked to Dave and Michelle, the pair who were still so confused about what was happening, a sorrowful look on his face. A look Y/N never thought she would see. They got the idea, quickly scrambling for their clothes before leaving his office. Harry closed the door behind them, licking at his bottom lip before biting it and turning back around to Y/N with that stone cold face she’s grown used to.

“Well, you better get to explaining what the fuck this is all about before I lose my mind.”

Y/N took a shallow breath, running her hand through her very messy hair and speaking up, “Someone on your side hurt my sister, and I need you to find out who.”

“Hurt your sister?” He looked at her with a bored face, going to his big chair behind his desk and plopping down on it, propping his feet onto his desk and leaning back with his arms resting behind his head.

“She was drugged and raped and she says she saw your emblem on him, so, chop chop boss man and find out who the fuck was out last night.”

Shock laced his features at the r word but he soon went back to his bored look, and scoffing at the idea that one of his men would do something so vile. Serena was known to exaggerate and to lie about things ever since she first got her hands on drugs and Harry had no choice but to disbelieve the claims.

“I highly doubt it was one of my guys. Your sister has a tendency to. . . lie. Plus, if she was drugged there’s a low chance she’ll remember something as specific as my emblem but, I assume, nothing else,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows at Y/N as if to say I win*.

Steam could practically be seen escaping Y/N’s ears as her face set into an angry frown and becoming increasingly red by the moment. Why did she think he would be considerate once? It was her mistake to think he had any ounce of a heart in his body, but even though she knew he would be difficult to work with, she was still beyond pissed at his response.

She stomped forward to the front of the desk, standing opposite him as she leaned forward and grabbed his white button-down shirt in her fist and yanking him forward so his body was in an awkward position and so his face was inches from her own. His smirk settled deeper on his face as his eyes trailed up and down her own face and her figure that was leaning over the desk. Because she never gave herself the time to change out of her pajamas, her silk camisole top revealed a lot of what was underneath to Harry; especially the lack of a bra.

Y/N could practically see the hormones flowing around in his head as he looked like he couldn’t give two shits about the way she was practically ripping his shirt off his body. She brought her other hand up and hooked it under his jaw, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to only look at her eyes.

“I figured I would ask nicely before I kill the prick myself. But there is no playing nice with you, is there Styles?” Y/N seethed, gritting out her words, pushing his body back harshly into his chair.

He laughed, genuinely laughed at the prospect of her being. . . nice. He ran his fingers through his hair, getting up from his position in his chair and walking around to meet her at the front of her desk. His slim fingers took the strap of her camisole, gently rolling it in his fingers before bringing it up and snapping it back down on her skin. “Not when you’re dressed like this, love.” Y/N pushed his hand off her body, standing up straighter in her spot and giving him the nastiest glare she could muster.

“Fine, but don’t be alarmed when you get the news someone died,” she stated, walking back over to the direction of his office door.

“You won’t be killing anyone, Y/N. And if you do, you leave me no choice but to kill one of yours,” he called out as she began to walk down the hall.

She stopped in her tracks, turning around to face him, to see that he was leaning against the doorway of the room, arms crossed in front of his chest. Y/N laughed at his proposition, looking down at her feet, stepping back in his direction with the tiniest foot forward.

“I think whoever raping my sister and then me killing them justifies this whole, eye for an eye thing, don’t ya think?” She hummed, giving him her final deadpan glare before, again, walking away from him and beginning her business for the day.

❊ ❊

A few days went by.

Y/N was closer to finding the guy, but it seems finding someone with a specific emblem tattooed on them proves to be quite difficult when a lot of guys have that same emblem tattooed on them in the exact same spot.

Cameras in the club did little to nothing to help her in the case, seeing as the place is dark, and that it’s sort of illegal to have surveillance in the bathroom. But her team was working hard and the more she didn’t have the guy in her hands, the more angry she became, and the more determined she was to freaking find him.

“All I’m saying is if you drop to your knees, he’ll be more willing to help you,” Y/N’s best friend Flo shrugged, taking a sip from her water as she leaned back in the chair.

“And I don’t need his help, he’s proven to be useless countless times.”

“Then why ask in the first place? Remind me again, because I’m a little lost.”

Y/N turned her head away from her laptop screen, looking at Flo with a bored look, sighing as she closed her laptop to give her friend her undivided attention. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

“Yeah, like how I think this whole ‘Oh, I hate Harry,’ thing is bullshit. Why go to him if you know he won’t help?” Flo questioned, leaning forward with her arms resting on the mahogany desk.

“Maybe he grew some human decency since the last time I saw him?”

Flo squinted her eyes at her best friend, not exactly accepting that as an answer. It was for one pretty vague, and Flo knew her friend a bit better than that. There was something she wasn’t telling her, and she’d be damned if she left this room not knowing.

“Hm,” Flo hummed, sitting back against the leather chair, then taking another dramatic sip of her water. Y/N gave her a look of distaste as if to ask, is there a problem?

“And, when was the last time you saw him?”

Two weeks ago.

For that. . . thing they don’t talk about.

From what Flo knows, last time Y/N saw Harry was to discuss business settlements six months prior. So, if there’s no business that needs to be handled, there would be no reason for Y/N to see Harry, right? That’s a secret Y/N so desperately wants to keep. She’s ashamed of the night. Beyond words she’s ashamed and it’s only because she gave into temptation.

For a long time, she had Flo telling her that she should let go of this family feud because how could Y/N miss out on an opportunity to be with someone as handsome as Harry? As powerful as Harry? If they were together, there would be absolutely nothing stopping them, because not only were they good at what they do, but so many people respected them that the city would have no choice but to accept that they’re a couple.

But, that went against decades upon decades of family rivalry. The two would be damned if they were the reason this, basically family tradition, came to an end.

So, Y/N had no choice but to lie to her best friend, to avoid life as she knows it spiralling out of control.

She pondered in fake wonder for a moment before answering, “I think a little over six months ago.”

Flo nodded her head in understandment, taking in Y/N’s words but not exactly believing them. There’s a reason Y/N and Flo are best friends, and it’s because the two are very much alike. They’re sarcastic, they’re funny, they’re smart, they take their job seriously, and so many more reasons beyond that. But one defining reason is that they both understand the other so well. They can see right through each other. So for Y/N to think Flo doesn’t know she’s lying, is quite offensive to Flo.

Y/N tried to not break eye contact when she was talking, but she did, and that was the main giveaway that she was lying, even if she only looked away for a brief second. Flo had her down pat, much to Y/N’s demise.

And Flo wasn’t going to sit here and not call her out on it.

“Okay, and now I want the truth.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up, and she pursed her lips whilst shaking her head, “I don’t know what-”

“The. Truth. Y/N.”

“That was-”

“Now.”

Y/N huffed, looking down to her hands that she now placed in her lap. Under her friend’s hard gaze, Y/N’s face began to heat up with the embarrassment running through her veins. There really shouldn’t be any reason to be embarrassed about this, but she is. She hates that it happened, but more importantly she hates how she caved to him.

Glancing back up for a moment, Y/N bit her lip softly, feeling exceptionally small as her friend continued to wait for an answer. Taking a deep breath, Y/N sat up straighter in her chair, finally speaking the truth, “Two weeks ago.”

And now it was Flo’s turn to raise her eyebrows, jaw dropping practically down to the floor.

Then Y/N got to explaining.

❊ ❊

It was a Thursday night. Not even the weekend. Y/N had found herself in Central City, which is basically what everyone within the two groups calls the place on the border that separates the sides. She was just outside of Central City, dealing with a few of her loyal dealers all day, and in Central City is one of her favorite bars, so after a long day of working, she wanted to treat herself to a few casual drinks. Plus, she has a small crush on one of the bartenders there, so she figured that night she just may get lucky.

Little did she know, Harry had been just outside of Central City all day too, dealing with a group of rogues who thought they could steal from him and get away with it. They didn’t. So, after an exhausting day of interrogation and torture, Harry needed a drink. And what better place than his favorite bar in Central City?

She was there first, chatting up with Ben the bartender. She was laughing, drinking, listening to the horrible singer up at karaoke; just having an amazing time. Everyone knew who she was but they were all too drunk to worry about anything so they went on about their nights as if the Queen of half their city wasn’t in their presence.

But then everyone went silent, and the only thing that could be heard was Y/N’s laugh as Ben says something ridiculously funny. When she noticed everyone had gone quiet, she looked around the room to look for why no one was talking. It was quite eerie that one second everyone was having the time of their life to now everyone looking like they’d rather be anywhere else.

Then her eyes met his, and she nearly dropped the glass in her hand.

But she wasn’t going to leave just because he showed up. It was her favorite bar. And he felt exactly the same way because it was his favorite bar.

About fifteen seconds of awkward silence and intense staring went down before the two got fed up with all of the eyes focused on them.

“What’re you all looking at?” They snapped in unison. Quickly everyone went back to what they were doing, trying not to worry about a fight breaking out or a screaming match going down. And their worry soon started to dissolve as all the women began to fantasize about Harry and all the men wish they were worthy of being with Y/N.

Unfortunately for the two, the only seat left available in the place was the one on the right of Y/N at the bar. And when Harry sauntered over, going to sit down on the stool, Y/N was quick to stop him claiming she was saving the seat. He looked at her blankly, knowing fully well no one was going to sit there. He swatted her hand away, sitting down on the wood with a plush seat, quickly ordering himself a drink.

They tried not to converse throughout the night no matter how badly they wanted to snap at one another. But the more they thought about yelling, the more they drank, and the more they drank, the more willing they were to talk to each other.

That’s how their night progressed. By the end of it, they somehow came across the topic of sex. And how neither of them had gotten any in what felt like forever. In reality it actually hadn’t been long at all for either of them, but they tended to be dramatic, plus they were teetering on the tipsy-drunk mindset.

“Worst part is, he left his socks on! Fucking socks! It’s one thing to last thirty seconds, but to leave your socks on? Nearly killed the guy,” Y/N grimaced, recalling the event from last week.

Harry was having a hard time keeping in his laughs and judgements, but Y/N was okay with it because that was the whole point of telling the story in the first place. “Okay, you win this time, that is worse.”

“This time? I always win, Styles.” Y/N was practically gloating as she finished off the rest of her martini. He rolled his eyes at her words, shaking his head in response.

And no one could really predict the future events unfolding. It was quite out of the ordinary, and Y/N hardly knew what she was doing until after she had done it.

This thought dawned her hazy mind, and then she was placing her hand on his shoulder and looking at him with this lust and admiration she never thought she had inside of her. The moment he felt her hand on his shoulder, he looked at her quickly and nearly crumbled at the way she was looking at him.

If no one were in this bar with them, he wouldn’t hesitate to take her right then and there, but alas people were all around them. So, he had to keep it in his pants for just a little longer.

He leaned closer to her, taking in the scent of her heavenly perfume as she breathed in his ravishing cologne. They were so close, their lips barely grazed over each other’s, the tips of their noses brushing together softly as if it never really happened.

“What’s on your mind?” He wondered, his right hand coming down on her thigh, awfully close to her now aching center.

They were positive people were most likely watching them like hawks and that news of this just might spread around very fast by tomorrow morning. But, they just didn’t care. Y/N placed her hand on top of his, slowly dragging it even further up her thigh, so his fingertips just reached her dampening underwear.

His lips parted at the feeling, his eyes widening in awe as he stretched his fingers to again barely touch her where she really wanted him. She almost moaned at the feeling but kept the noises inside, not wanting to bring anymore attention towards them.

He laced her hand that was on his shoulder in his hair, softly tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck. She brought her wet lips up to his ear, whispering, “To see what it’s like for you. . . to win.”

He looked at her with an open-mouthed smirk, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before he hastily stood up and placed a few bills down on the bar to pay for their drinks. Y/N grabbed her purse, making her way to the door, Harry following behind her.

When they finally arrived to his place, stepping in the threshold of the foyer, all barriers fell down and all morals left their minds. Their lips were locked in a feverish kiss as he had her pinned up against the cool wooden surface of his door. Her legs were hiked up to wrap around his hips, high heels abandoned on the floor as she pressed the heels of her foot onto his ass, pushing his front harder on her core, creating some sort of friction between them.

He broke apart their lips, tangling his fingers in her hair as he tugged her head to one side to open up the view of her neck that he wanted so desperately to mark up. The second he bit down on her skin and licked the area, and peppered kisses up and down her throat, Y/N let out a moan she couldn’t suppress anymore. And then Harry smirked against her skin.

“It’s so ironic,” he started, grinding his hips harder into her as he brought his head up to look her in the eyes. “Out there, you’ve got people at your feet, looking up to you like an actual queen, not afraid to kill me at any given moment. But in here. . . I’ve got you writhing beneath my touch, just itching to be touched down here.”

And then he cupped her cunt, fingers petting her damp thong, having her mewl at the small but impactful contact. She wished he would just shut up and just fuck her already, but she could tell he was having fun with this; her being so complacent and not fighting him and instead agreeing that she was in fact desperate for him to touch her.

He pushed her skirt up her hips, getting better access to her pretty pussy, pushing aside her thong, gathering up her slickness onto his fingers. He brought his fingers up to his face, admiring the shine before wrapping his lips around them. If Y/N was standing, her knees surely would’ve gave out from under her at the sight. And she couldn’t help but get ever wetter as he sucked the digits, pulling them out with a pop.

“Sweet. . . like honey,” he grinned before reattaching their lips quickly. He brought his hands down onto her ass, gripping tightly before removing them from the door. Although they didn’t get very far and ended up on the comfy living room couch. There was no way they could handle stairs in their state, so the couch was good enough.

Really classy.

As soon as her back touched the soft surface, Harry was ripping her skirt and panty down her legs, and harshly tugged open her shirt that a few bottoms came right out of the seams. And if Y/N wasn’t drunk on alcohol and lust, she’d be beyond pissed.

But she really wasn’t one to talk, because she also ripped open his shirt, albeit not as rough but she’s pretty sure she ripped off one of his buttons too. Within a matter of seconds, the two were completely naked and beyond excited for what was to come. Literally.

Harry littered kisses up and down her body, mouth lingering longer on her aroused nipples, whilst he sank one then two fingers into her dripping hole. Y/N let out a breathy moan, lifting her lips up off the couch to push his fingers deeper inside of her.

“You’re so tight, Darling, and it’s just my fingers.”

He locked their lips in another passionate kiss as he pumped his fingers faster into her heat, gaining a few more moans out of that precious little mouth of hers. He hovered his lips over hers, speaking his next works huskily and softly that sent shivers down her spine, and made her pussy throb.

“Imagine me burying my cock into you. You squeezing me as I thrust into you, over and over again. Your warm walls holding onto me as I pound into you, absolutely wrecking you. Can you imagine it?”

Before she could say a single word, his thumb began working fast circles on her clit just as he continuously started to hit that special spot inside of her that had her seeing stars. The string of moans she let out could really put a pornstar to shame, and he didn’t even have his dick in her yet.

Was it embarrassing for her to be this much of a mess just from a simple fingering? Yes. But, just like the rest of the night, she lost the will to care.

“H-. . . Harry, please,” she whined as he switched the pace of his fingers to a slower rate, trying to prolong her orgasm for as long as he could.

He simply shook his head, denying her any satisfaction. Because as much as she was in charge out there, he was in charge here and he wouldn’t let her get what she wants so quickly.

Instead, he wanted to rile her up even more. With his free hand he brought it up to her breast, groping it roughly and then pinching her nipple between his thumb and first finger. And then he got an idea as he looked at the hickey that was starting to form on the side of her neck. He slowly trailed his fingers further up her chest, her collarbones, and eventually landing on the soft skin of her throat. He gently wrapped his hand around her throat to see what kind of reaction he could get out of her, and much to his surprise, her small hand wrapped around his wrist to, instead of pushing his hand away, push harder on her throat.

And if he wasn’t turned on then, he for fucking sure is now.

She loved the way his big hand was wrapped around her throat easily as if it had the smallest circumference. She loved the way it made it just the tiniest bit more difficult to breathe while he continued to ram her pussy with his fingers. And he loved just how much she loved it. “You naughty fucking girl. You like my hand around your neck don’t you? Does it turn you on?”

Y/N didn’t want to say anything, because as much as she was this confident woman, this moment was far too embarrassing, even for her. But, frustrated with no response, Harry pressed down more, using a deeper voice to elicit a response out of her.

“Answer me, Princess. I won’t continue if you don’t use your words,” he tsked, again slowing down his rhythm. Y/N groaned as his fingers practically came to a halt, bucking her hips up to continue the euphoric feeling inside of her.

“Plea–”

“Not until I get an answer.”

Y/N huffed, opening her eyes to look into his boring down on her. She bit her lip softly before nodding her head gently to respond to his previous questions.

“Uh-uh, I want words, Y/N. You love to talk, so c’mon, tell me.”

Groaning again, Y/N turned her head to the side to break eye contact. All she wanted was an orgasm, and she knew that within the next minute she was bound to burst and she hated that he was stopping her from reaching it. She took a breath and mustered up the courage to finally agree with his words, that yes it turned her on immensely.

“Y-yes. . . it turns me on,” she whispered. With that he smirked and removed his hand from her heat, making Y/N whimper at the loss of contact. But he couldn’t take it anymore, his erection becoming too unbearable that he had to ease his pain sooner rather than later.

Reaching down to his wallet to pull the condom out that he had stuffed in there a few nights ago, because he couldn’t be bothered to go upstairs to get his stash, he hastily ripped open the foil, careful not to rip the condom itself, and quickly rolled it onto his throbbing length.

He first pushed the tip in, giving her a few moments to adjust to his girth. Y/N completely lost it as he pushed further and further inside of her, back arching off the plush cushion as she cursed at the feeling of him stretching her. She widened the space of her legs, absolutely losing her mind as Harry’s face buried into her neck, the vibrations of his moans and groans shaking her body.

When he finally stopped, Y/N was quick to look down to see his cock was gone and deep inside of her body. She never felt so full in her life and she didn’t know how she was going to take him moving. The stretch came with a subtle burn that brought tears to her eyes. All good, of course.

“Harry, please move,” she begged, scraping her nails down toned back.

“Are you sure?”

“Fucking move.”

Then he slowly inched his length out before snapping his hips back against hers.

It was crazy that they were doing this.

Never in a million years did they think they would be having sex, each other’s names flowing out of their mouths so easily as their moans filled the air. The thought was always taboo for them but just this once they accepted their fates, and God, did it feel good.

It felt so good.

❊ ❊

When Y/N was finished explaining what had happened that one night two weeks ago – of course without the intense details – Flo sat with a smirk adorning her features.

Her eyes glowed, knowing she was right. She just knew this sort of thing was bound to happen. Next step, they were going to admit their undying love for each other and Flo couldn’t wait to get that news.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Y/N scolded.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” she shrugged. “. . So when’s the wedding?”

“Florence James!”

“Hey, I’m just dealing with the cards I’ve been dealt,” she raised her hands in defense.

“Can we just forget about him and get back to more important matters, like who assaulted my sister?”

Before Flo could respond, a knock sounded on the door to Y/N’s office. Yelling a quick come in, Y/N was quick to flip off her friend before whoever walked into the room.

Looking over her shoulder, Flo let out a laugh before getting up from her chair and then returning the hand gesture to Y/N. “Speak of the Devil,” she called as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Harry stepped into Y/N’s office, that annoying smirk ever so permanent on his features.

“Speaking about me, Princess?”

“You have two seconds to explain why you’re here before I stab you in the throat.”

“Relax,” he dragged out, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of the chair Flo was just sitting on before sitting himself down on it. “I come with good news.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, interested in what he could be talking about. She didn’t bother asking what good news, instead just waited for him to continue with whatever it was he had to say.

“You don’t have to worry about Jack anymore – Uh, the guy who. . . y’know, with Serena.”

To say Y/N was taken aback would be an understatement. She was so shocked that she had him repeat himself and explain what the fuck that was supposed to even mean.

“Look, I know I was harsh the other day. But when you left I got to thinking and. . . I know I would do anything I could if somebody hurt someone in my family. So, I got to asking around, turns out it was this guy Jack I had just fired and now you don’t have to worry about him,” he elaborated, clasping his hands together on his lap.

Y/N’s mind was in a whirlwind at this information, trying to process everything he just told her. It wasn’t a lot to take in but, it’s because he willingly helped her that had her in such a confused state. He had never done anything like this before and she was sure he wouldn’t do anything like it ever again.

But then she smiled. Genuinely smiled. Because he helped her. There’s no way she was going to let this one go. However, before she could gloat, she asked one very important question, “Is he alive?”

Harry gave her a knowing look, as if to say she should know him better than that.

Then she smiled again, even bigger than before. Because he killed someone for her and that – in their world – was the biggest sign of affection someone could give, because it meant that that someone meant something special.

“Fuck off with that smile,” he grumbled.

Y/N then stood up from her chair and walked over to him, standing in front of his seated figure, bringing her hand up to caress his jaw. “However could I repay you, Mr. Styles?”

It was then his turn to smile at her as he placed his hands on the back of her thighs and brought her to sit down on his lap.

“I can think of a few ways.”

And they were kissing like they never had before. This time they were so sober, it felt too real.

But they didn’t mind too much, because this moment felt like the start of something new.

#idk how to feel about the ending butttttt oh well :)#harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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flamingo-writes · 5 years

Note

For fluffvember: Law w/a crewmember that has mutual feelings for him, but they both repress it- until one night when she has a nightmare and she asks to cuddle? And he just can’t help but be sweet and affectionate bc it upsets him to see her like that- and maybe a breakthrough happens, like a confession or a kiss?

A/N: not quite as requested, and this turned out a little bit more angstier than I intended XD Also, I was listening to Something About Us by Daft Punk when I started to write this, and I love that song very much, so I decided to title this after the song tht basically gave me that inspirational push to start writing.

Fluffvember Post

Wordcount: 994

Warnings: mentions of smut at the end, a few swear words.

Something About Us — Law x Reader

It was some sort of painful silent burden Law insisted on carrying upon his shoulders. As much as he tried to treat your PTSD, it was impossible. As if you were immune to every medication he prescribed you, nothing ever ceased your nightmares. Nothing could prevent them, but Law´s presence sure helped you soothe your stress away and help you go back to sleep.

Law had always been there. As long as you could remember. He has always been there whenever a nightmare chased you. Reason why you room was next to his, the thinnest wall standing between you so he could easily hear when you were having a rough time and quickly get to your room and comfort you.

All those years of fighting back to back, watching over each other, had taken their toll. It was a unique kind of bond that connected the both of you. Something far stronger than just care, a blind faith and immeasurable trust. An unspoken attraction pulling you towards one another, masked under a shade of guilt. Why would you fall in love with your best friend? It was just wrong.

It was hard to predict when your nightmares would show up. They came without a warning, and you could spend weeks without having a single one, or spend three or fours sleepless nights because the moment you closed your eyes it all went to hell. Whatever triggered your nightmares was unknown.

However, this night, unlike any other, was the worst.

Usually you’d start whimpering, sometimes crying. This night however, was bad. Very, very bad. Screaming at the top of your lungs, cries for help, your voice scarring as if you were being tortured. Not only Law was awaken, but the entire crew.

Penguin kicked your door open, ready to attack whoever was harming you. However, he found Law kneeling next to your bed, holding your head in his hands, his forehead pressed against yours as you cried your heart out, uncontrollably, apologising.

“God, Law...it was awful, I-I thought I-I-I….Fuck, I’m sorry for waking you up, I-I didn’t me-mean to…”

“Hey, there’s nothing to apologise for…” Law whispered.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the crew poking inside, the same worried eyes reflected, echoing silently in the room, Law could sense everyone’s worry. He locked eyes with Bepo and silently jerked his head as if saying: it’s alright, I got this.

The mink nodded and told the crew to leave the two of you alone. Once your door closed, Law sat on your bed and hugged you tightly. Clinging to his hoodie, you buried your face in his chest and cried painfully. His arms tightening around you, trying to keep you from breaking into a million pieces, as if he was holding you all together. And he waited. The sound of your cries hurting in his chest, as the clock slowly moved around. After a few minutes, your cries had lowered into low sobs.

“[Name]-ya” Law purred. “Do you want me to stay here tonight?”

Slightly embarrassed by his question, you nodded shamefully. It had been years since the last time Law had stayed with you overnight because of one of your nightmares. Usually he’d stay there and distract you until you felt sleepy once more and went back to sleep. Rarely, very rarely, your nightmares were bad enough for him to stay with you for the rest of the night.

Lying on the bed next to you, he held you close, as you snuggled next to him, burying your face in his chest. Law massaged your scalp, well aware that you were still crying despite sobbing in completely silence. He kissed the top of your head, hoping to comfort you.

Your heart was still racing, however, it wasn’t because of the nightmare. The sudden closeness with Law was what had your heart beating against your ribcage as if it was about to break your chest.

"Thank you, Law" you purred.

"It's nothing, I promised you I'd always be here for you"

The way his gentle voice warmed you made you cling even tighter to him. His words still echoing to your heartbeat's rhythm, you looked up from his chest and locked your stare with his.

"What's wrong, [Name]-ya?"

"Thank you, Law" You buried your face back into the base of his neck before he could notice the blush painting your face.

Still, Law could notice a faint trace pink beginning to color your cheeks before you snuggled back. He smiled pleased.

However, his smile soon faded away to the feeling of your lips innocently brushing his neck. Instead, his heart rushed, a shiver running up and down his body as images of his fantasies flashed in his mind. Fantasies in which he is hungrily claiming you, his best friend, as his. Guilty, he didn't try to stop those images from playing behind his closed eyes. He opened his mouth, your name escaping from his lips before he could even realise it.

"Hmmm?" You hummed looking back up at him.

His heart racing at a dangerous speed, and his gut twisted with a very peculiar anxiety he always tried to suppress. However the way your eyes were shining even in the dark of your room fueled that anxiety fluttering in his stomach.

Still flustered by the warmth of the lips he very much craved, he didn't think twice and simply leaned closer. Thirsty, he tasted your lips for the first time. His heart on his throat, and his primitive mind taking over. And yet, surprised that you responded to his kiss immediately.

Kissing him back, speechless, breathless, your hand moved to the back of his head, deepening the kiss you craved as much.

Swallowed by the darkness, the both of you released the unspoken frustration the both of you had been keeping to yourselves for years. Letting your bodies do the talk, you melted into each other for the night.

#one piece #one piece law #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d. water law #law x reader #Trafalgar x reader

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jiminies-ahmee · 6 years

Text

BULLET SCENARIO: BOYFRIEND!CHOI MINHO

Requested by @noona-clock, i hope you like it, lovely!

a/n: he looks so damn good in this gif i simply cannot :((((

Minho is the sweetest

And he’d be even sweeter as your boyfriend

i feel he might be a little cliche and cringy at times, perhaps he’s watched too many dramas

but he’d always put you before himself

the type to give his jacket to you when you show the slightest sign of being cold

also the type to send flowers to your workplace for no reason at all, just because he was thinking of you

and also the type to boop your nose when you’re having a conversation with someone (it’s his way of saying he's bored and he’d like to leave lmao)

the other members would tease him quite a lot about you tbh

“are you sure you didn’t marry her 20 years ago? you act like an old couple”

“i didn’t think you could get this whipped for a person, but you’ve always been the competitive type, haven’t you?”

though he’d deny you were married (you were not) he couldn’t help but think of the day when he could intertwine his hand with yours and look at the matching rings on both of your fingers.

^^^ it’s a dream of his - his ultimate goal in life

ALSO

continuing with his competitive streak

minho would be quite easily provoked if he sees someone getting too close to you

HOWEVER

he will not approach you and say anything unless you give him a look

the both of you have had a good sit-down talk about the whole thing bc

the first time he got jealous and protective, he punched the lights out of someone who was asking for directions

yeah, you couldnt let that happen again

he’d be very interested in your family and he’d be such a keen bean to meet them

all of your younger relatives would fall in love with him instantly and some of your nieces and such would ask to marry him

“what do you want to be when you grow up, little one?”

“i want to marry you when i’m a big girl, minho oppa”

*cue a wide-eyed, shook minho who looks straight at you in fear*

“sorry, honey, but minho oppa is marrying someone else”

your mum and aunties would always tell you to marry minho

lmao as if you weren't already planning on doing that

but srsly, you're entire family would be absolutely in love with him, and ask you to invite him to all the family events and gatherings

and he'd be so sweet about your fam

asking about your parents and siblings (if you have any)

sending your mum flowers as a thank you and always listening to your dad’s hour long conversations with so much intrigue

BUT OH YOOOUUUUU

he’d literally have stars in his eyes whenever he looked at you

he’d just be so blown away by you

by being able to sit with you and talk with you and hold your hand

he’d literally try his best in every way for you

and you’d always be his shoulder to lean on when times got tough

you’d be his number one supporter during comebacks and tours

front row for everything, and he’d always give you a shoutout

sometimes sings in the morning under his breath and it just makes you feel all fuzzy inside

takes your hand in his whenever he can

lets you fiddle around with his hair at home and literally falls to the floor when you braid some of it or make it look ridiculous

literally makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the entire world

my heart is literally hurting from writing this

but someone tell choi minho that whoever he dates in the future, is one lucky person *sigh*

#choi minho #minho #shinee minho #minho scenario #minho reactions #minho imagines #minho fluff #boyfriend!minho #shinee imagines #shinee scenarios #shinee reactions #shinee fluff #boyfriend!shinee #choi minho imagines #choi minho scenarios #choi minho reactions #chimchimchanyeolie works

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kpoptextauwu-archive · 6 years

Text

Three to Start

-----------

Summary: Maybe a family wasn’t always a mother and father, maybe it was two boys who came into your life and one you found, maybe it was the simple touches and smiles or a series of dreams, maybe that's what made a family.

Pairing: Jeno x Mark (platonic)

Renjun x Mark (platonic)

Haechan x Mark (could be seen as romantic if you want)

Jeno x Renjun (I see it as romantic its up to you tho)

Prompt: Fantasy AU!

Fluff

Requested: No

Note: This is the 2nd to last part to the series by me and @ihf-ihop-ihi click here to read the rest

Warning(s): Johnny commits suicide but it's not descriptive at all like you can barely tell. Also, I made Ten and Doyoung dead out of spite against Froot Loops bc she got mad at me for writing angsty fics where members die.

Third POV;

The first one was Jeno. The fallen angel boy who fell from the sky, who seemed hard on the outside but was secretly the softest boy Mark had ever met. He had also become Marks first and only friend. Mark remembered the day he found him, his parents had another screaming match with him that day he went to visit so he ran. He was sick of their constant nagging and constant hate they put on him. All his life he was made out to be a disappointment because of his scales, and horns and glowing, color changing eyes.

As soon as the screaming had begun he grabbed the bag he brought with his clothes and book and left. He ran and ran letting his feet carry him wherever they wanted not thinking about the consequences. In this case, he ended up meeting one of his closest and most trusted friends.

When he stopped running he found himself in the woods by the city park and fairly deep in, it was a miracle he hadn't face planted or tripped over anything. As he realized where he was he slowed down to a walk to catch his breath. It had been raining when he left but now it was barely drizzling and the moon was peeking out from in between the trees. Mark sighed as he walked, being careful not to trip over anything until he walked into a small clearing.

On the edge of the clearing, he found a boy. Not just any boy but a shirtless one without shoes and soaked to the brim. He stepped closer to the boy taking him in. He didn't seem to be cold in the slightest even though the air was chilly and he was drenched, in fact, he seemed to be at peace as he slept. The boy's face was soft and incredibly handsome along with the rest of him, although Mark tried not to stare.

He watched for a few moments before he realized that it was a little creepy that he was watching a boy sleep in the woods. Blinking a couple times he rubbed his hands against his pants and sighed. He couldn’t just leave the boy here but if he woke him up there could be a chance he would get punched in the face, which he would rather not have. He pursed his lips in thought as he continued to watch over the boy, watching him roll over slightly. His eyes widened as he watched him roll over, the boys back had two long painful looking wounds across it. A huff fell out of Mark’s mouth, he truly couldn’t leave this boy now but he really wasn’t sure what he could do.

A breeze blew through the trees and Mark felt his bag bounce on his leg. He put a hand down to stop it and felt his finger brush against one of his long shirts and he paused. Slowly he brought out the shirt and placed his bag on the ground. He carefully folded it and took a breath stepping out of the trees he had been hiding behind. The sun was starting to come out as he quietly made his way over to the sleeping boy and placed the folded black shirt next to him. As he started to stand up the boy rolled over again kicking the shirt lightly and Mark froze, praying he wouldn’t wake up.

A sigh left Mark’s mouth as the boy just mumbled something in his sleep, but his eyes didn’t open. He quickly, but quietly made his way back into the trees where he had been hiding and watched as the boy opened his eyes. Mark watched him curiously until the boy's eyes made contact with his. He watched as the boy's eyes widened when they caught Mark's and sat up looking for him, but Mark was gone. He ran until he made it back to the park that connected to the woods.

He gasped as he harshly breathed in placing his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. When he finally managed to catch his breath, he made his way over to one of the park benches and sighed, he didn’t want to go back to his house yet and he was slightly curious if the boy in the woods would come out. He chewed on his lip for a moment before reaching into his bag and bringing out his book, opening it to his bookmarked place and began to read quietly glancing up every once in a while to see if the boy had come out.

Mark only got to read a chapter of his book before he saw the boy he had given the shirt to step out, wearing his shirt. He pursed his lips and watched as the boy took in his surroundings his face void of emotion. He watched until the boy found Mark making Mark quickly look back to his book, shrinking slightly as he felt the boy approach him.

“Excuse me,” the boy said once he reached Mark.

Mark simply hummed in response not looking up.

“I was wondering if you could tell me where I was? I’ve never been here before and I’m a little, lost,” the boy said not leaving.

Mark mumbled a quiet reply about being in a park continuing not to look up. He didn’t know how the boy would react if he saw him.

He heard the boy huff, probably annoyed with how Mark was acting, “I can’t hear you, either speak louder or look up.”

Mark tensed slightly but slowly raised his head repeating what he said to the boy. He hardly heard himself as he spoke though, watching how the boy's eyes widened with recognition and took a step back.

A week passed since Mark’s fateful encounter with Jeno and it still bothered him. He had a deep feeling inside of him to find him again. He was getting restless so he made a quick decision grabbing his cloak off his bed and taking off.

The walk to the wood wasn’t far, thankfully, and Mark made it in record time. He had started wandering around the wood hoping to find Jeno even though, deep down, he knew it was a lost cause. He had probably gone to his house, or wherever he came from. Mark continued to walk around aimlessly until he began to approach a cave. His broke a couple sticks under his feet as he approached but he didn’t stop until he was right outside. Taking a breath he walked into the cave only to be met with partial light.

A couple of steps in and a sharp pain struck his head, small unintelligible whispers spreading around him. He was brought out of his daze and the headache faded as he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He whipped around until he was face to face with Jeno.

During that day in the cave, Mark had made a silent promise to himself. A promise to protect Jeno even though he could tell Jeno didn’t need it. Jeno had grown on him slowly but surely, which is how he found himself bringing Jeno pillows and clothes to his cave.

No matter how much he enjoyed taking all these things to Jeno every day it was starting to get tiresome, it would be so much easier if Jeno just lived with him. That’s how he found himself making a deal with Jeno in his cave one day and watching as Jeno pulled up his shirt to let Mark see his wounds.

The wounds were even more painful looking on full display, even though Mark knew Jeno couldn’t feel anything. Mark couldn’t help himself as he walked up to Jeno hesitantly reaching out a hand and brushing his fingers against them.

The moment his fingers brushed against them, he gasped, and suddenly he was no longer in the cave instead, he was out by a cliff, a thrashing lake below it and rain pounding in his eyes. A tall boy stood by the edge of the cliff his shirt soaked through with rain and hair dangling in his eyes.

"Johnny... please... move away from the cliff..." Mark heard himself say much to his confusion. Who was this, he didn't know a Johnny and how did he get here, he was just in a cave with Jeno.

"You don't understand Jeno I can't anymore," the boy, Johnny, screamed. Mark only got more confused. Jeno? Last he checked he wasn't Jeno.

"Johnny please listen to me. I need you to step away from the cliff, it's dangerous." Mark, or Jeno, or whoever he was replied.

Johnny just smiled a bittersweet smile at him, "thank you for being my friend Jeno. I appreciate it," and with those final words, the boy took a step back. Mark screamed as he watched him fall, fall, fall...

Then he was back in cave standing in front of Jeno who was harshly glaring at him. "Don't. Touch," Jeno hissed coldly, "I can't control what you see."

Mark nodded his eyes glazed over as images of the boy on the cliff filtered his mind. Instead of asking he continued to pick up the pillows that were scattered around. "What are you doing?" Jeno asked, throwing his shirt back on.

Mark rolled his eyes, "Packing for you to come live with me. We had a deal, remember?” He would ask Jeno about the boy later.

Mark brought Jeno into his apartment with all the pillows and clothes showing him where his room was.

"Hey I'll be back in a bit I'm gonna get the rest of your stuff. Follow me after you finish putting the stuff we just brought in your room," Mark said putting down the last pillow on the couch.

Jeno huffed but nodded opening the door to his room and placing the armful of blankets he had on the spare bed. "Alright."

Mark walked out shouting a quick bye to Jeno and made his way towards the forest again. He had just set foot in the woods when a boy rushed passed him quiet sobs coming out of his mouth. Mark stepped tentatively over the branches and rocks lining the forest ground, following swiftly after the sobbing boy.

Mark carefully pulled the hood of his cloak closer to his face. Casting darker shadows over his scaly skin. His forest green eyes twinkled as he watched the smaller boy stagger and sob. Upon hearing the faint sobbing Mark felt an ache of remembrance fill his chest. Without thinking he began to follow the sound until he came across what appeared to be a fellow hybrid sobbing.

The sobbing boy slowed to a stop in a small clearing. Mark stayed within the shadowy trees, hiding his presence while he observed weeping boy.

The boy tilted his head back, quietly whimpering. Mark gazed sympathetically at him, watching as his shoulder softly shook and his chest moved quickly. The wind began to pick up, a ruffling breeze flowing over the fawn boy, causing him to shiver. His long brown locks getting tangled into his antlers. Marks attention was piqued. His palms began to sweat, and his stomach abruptly churned, a silent whispering laugh swirling around him. Mark blinked rapidly and shook his head.

The fawn covered his face with his hands, his eyes tightly shut, blocking out the light shining through the trees. Mark silently stepped out from the shadows to revealed himself. "Why so blue Deery?" Mark called in a quiet voice, a murky shadow concealing Mark's lurking figure. The boy looked up instantly, frightened by the new voice, urgently looking around for the voice, "W-What?" He stammered, wrapping his arms around himself.

"I said, why so blue little deer?" Mark reiterated, stepping out of the shadows to reveal his figure. The boy shivered, rubbing his arms gingerly. His lower lip quivering. "I-I... I'm not wanted." He whimpered, casting his gaze down to the mossy ground.

Mark felt his heart pull, a wash of sympathy flooded Mark as he stepped closer to the boy. He crouched down in front of him. Marks glowing green eyes piercing into the boys almost black doe eyes.

"What's your name deer?" Mark hummed softly. Placing a hand on the boy's knee. "R-Renjun." He whispered fearfully, he looked into Mark's glowing eyes. "Renjun," Mark repeated. His eyes ghosted over Renjun's appearance. Mark extended his hand to Renjun, pulling him to his feet. "Come along now. You've other places to b-be." Mark hummed, his vision becoming blurry as he watched Renjun rub his eyes before taking Mark's hand, instantly trusting Mark.

"W-What's your name?" Renjun mumbled, following behind Mark blindly. Mark cast a glance over his shoulder, a wispy smile playing at his lips. "Mark." He responded. Renjun jumped with alarm as he heard his name, remembering what had just happened when he trusted a human. Renjun ripped his hand out of Mark's, fearfully staggering back. "Y-You're an h-human." Renjun tripped over his words, his hands pulled tightly to his chest.

Mark bit the thick of his lip, conflicted about revealing himself.

Small glass like tears slowly rolled down Renjun's flushed red cheeks. His lower lip gently quivering. Mark felt a tug in his chest, deciding against the prior warning of revealing himself to strangers, and slid the hood of his cloak off his head. Keeping his gaze cast downward, only the gentle curl of his horns visible. The quiet crunch of dead leaves rang in Mark's sensitive ears. A tender hand gently touched his cheek, he flinched away from Renjun's cold fingertips. Renjun took Mark's face in his hands, carefully lifting his face. Mark looked into Renjun's eyes, expecting disgust and hatred; but all Mark found was a tender warmth. Renjun giggled softly, using the sleeve of his jumper to rub his eyes. Renjun smiled at Mark, his unique snaggletooth fully displayed.

Mark was utterly confused by Renjun. Renjun so easily found peace with Mark's disheveled appearance and accepted the fact he had blue scales crawling up his neck, disrupting his skin with jagged bumps. "You're a Hybrid." Renjun hiccuped, a small excited tone in his words. Mark nodded, still amazed by Renjun's ability to accept Mark's appearance.

"You're not scared?" Mark inquired, unable to wrap his mind around what was happening. Renjun scrunched his nose, a pleased smile playing at his lips, and a pink blush crawling up his neck. "You're beautiful. I don't mind your scales, I think they're fascinating." Renjun complimented. Playing with a flower that captured his attention. Mark exhaled shakily, unsure if he heard correctly. Mark shook his head, gently taking hold of Renjun's hand again and pulling him towards the cave that Jeno had recently vacated.

Mark neared the cave, listening to Renjun mumble about the pretty flowers he saw as they were walking. Realizing how vocal Renjun was and began to notice how easily distracted Renjun was. Having to retrieve Renjun multiple times from scampering after a squirrel or something of the sort. He decided it was easier to just hold Renjun's hand so he wouldn't wander away.

"The flower I saw was blue, but it had other blue colors in it like light blue and- Hey! Look a butterfly! I like butterflies, butterflies are pretty. Mark, do you like butterflies?" Renjun hummed, happily swinging their intertwined hands. Mark chuckled at Renjun's childlike tendencies.

"Yes Renjun, I like butterflies," Mark answered. An amused twinkle in his forest green irises. Mark lead Renjun into the cave, listening to Renjun suddenly change the topic from what flavor leaf was his favorite to how much he disliked the dark. "Mark." A voice beckoned suddenly, coming closer. Jeno stood full stature, shoulder broad and back as he glared sharply at the fawn-like boy behind Mark.

Renjun had been too distracted by a songbird passing overhead to notice the death glares being sent his way. When Renjun's gaze returned, he rubbed his light pink nose. Jeno froze, analyzing the softer boy with judgemental eyes. Renjun's cheeks were flushed, spreading across his nose and staining the tip of his nose red from crying. The outer rings of his delicate doe eyes were red and bloated. Dirt smudged on his flushed cheeks from tears he had wiped away. Renjun connected eyes with Jeno, as if looking into Jeno's soul. Renjun tilted his head to the side with a look of confusion as he glanced over Jeno's figure.

"Jeno, this is Renjun. He's a deer hybrid." Mark introduced, releasing Renjun's hand. Renjun snapped his eyes to Mark, slightly flustered that Mark let go of their hands; Renjun had been enjoying holding hands. He gently huff, his dark eyes twinkling as he looked away. Jeno blinked rapidly as he stepped forward, grabbing Renjun by the shoulder.

Renjun gave a small frightened gasp as he was suddenly pulled, peering up at Jeno through his lashes. Jeno slid a finger across Renjun's smudged cheek, removing a single tear that had escaped his eye. Jeno faintly saw white freckles through the smudged dirt on his plump cheeks.

Jeno quickly linked hands with Renjun and lead him out of the cave and over to a Lake. Gently cupping water in his hands and rubbing it against Renjun's dirty face. Renjun closed his eyes, allowing Jeno to prune him. Jeno gently wiped away the layers of dirt built up on his soft skin, presenting the magnificent white freckles littered across his sharp cheek. Renjun's eyes fluttered open, looking between Jeno's eyes with adoration.

"I'm Jeno." He softly introduced. Renjun grinned widely, Jeno noticed his small snaggletooth but quickly focused back on the beaming boy. "You're my new friend." Renjun declared in a gentle tone, attaching himself to Jeno. Jeno was shocked but carefully wrapped his arms around Renjun's waist.

Mark watched in awe, gobsmacked by Jeno's sudden gentleness directed towards Renjun. Jeno never treated Mark like that, only had he been sassed and bitterly replied too. But with Renjun, Jeno acted like a different person. Mark sighed, shaking his head as he watched Renjun become distracted by a cicada, making Jeno come to look at it too. Mark felt a smile rise to his face as he watched them interact. Wandering back to the cave, Renjun happily included Mark in his endless conversations about everything and anything.

Days had passed since Mark had found Renjun and Jeno and he visited the small deer boy every day. There was never a dull moment with Renjun as he was always talking about something. Mark had noticed that Jeno especially had grown close to him. Whenever they would show up at the cave to see him Renjun would shout and throw his arms around Jeno happily, which Jeno would always gladly return as Mark would watch awe-struck. Whenever he tried to touch or hug Jeno he would get his shoulder punched and a nasty glare.

This day was like all the others with Mark and Jeno making their way from their apartment to the cave to see Renjun. They had been casually crossing the street, Mark leading, when a speeding car came shooting down the turn heading straight for Mark. “Mark!” Jeno shouted noticing the car.

Mark turned back to look at him confused, not noticing the car. Jeno gasped and quickly pushed Mark out of the way sending him sprawling on the other side of the road while they car rammed straight into Jeno sending him flying back.

“Jeno!” Mark shouted scrambling to his feet ignoring the cuts and scrapes he had along his body. He ran up to him and sighed out of relief when he saw Jeno laying there blinking, his once white shirt speckled red.

“Dear gods Jeno, why would you do that you can’t scare me-“ Mark started to ramble as the owner of the car ran up to them.

“Shut,” Jeno said holding up a finger to Mark telling him to be quiet, “Stop talking, its gonna take a moment for the ribs to heal.”

Mark just nodded closing his mouth obediently. Never had he been gladder Jeno was basically immortal minus the wounds where his wings were. “Oh my god is he okay I am so, so, so sorry I will pay for any medical bills,” the driver said rushing up to where Mark stood over Jeno.

“Oh yeah he’s fine just give him a second,” Mark replied nodding.

“I wouldn’t say the same about you though,” Jeno replied from the ground as he pushed himself up.

The driver stared at them shocked, that impact should have killed him. “What- What are you?”

Jeno rolled his eyes as he glared at the man, his features seething. “What’s your name?”

“Jaehyun,” the driver answered cautiously, still shocked from how Jeno was completely fine.

“Alright Jaehhyun, I want you to apologize to my friend here for almost hitting him,” Jeno said stiffly.

Jaehyun opened and closed his mouth a couple times before turning to look at Mark, “I’m- I’m sorry for almost hitting you.”

“Apology accepted,” Mark replied trying to stifle a laugh at the man’s flabbergasted expression.

“Great and one more thing,” Jeno said grabbing Jaehyun's shirt and punching him square in the face, “watch where your going next time.”

Mark laughed next to him as Jeno let go of his shirt and grabbed Mark’s wrist dragging him towards the forest to continue their visit to Renjun.

That night a bright gold light shone out of Jeno’s room. Mark knight his eyebrows and got up from the couch where he had been watching a movie. He walked up to Jeno’s door and knocked gently with no response. After he had knocked the third time he gently opened the door to find Jeno floating over his bed a gold light enveloping him.

“Jeno!” He screamed running up to try and grab onto Jeno and pull him back down, only for his hand to pass right through Jeno. He screamed Jeno’s name again as the gold light started to fade Jeno along with it until it was gone, and so was Jeno.

Three days passed since Jeno’s disappearance and both Mark and Renjun had been a mess. When Jeno didn’t show up to their daily visit the night after Renjun had cried as he hugged Mark.

When the next day passed with no Jeno, Renjun had sobbed into Mark’s arms making Mark’s heartbreak. Renjun shouldn’t cry, he should always be happy.

The third day was when he couldn’t handle it himself and somehow found himself slipping under a fence and sitting on the shore of a lake, throwing rocks into it. He hadn’t noticed any difference in the water until one of the rocks he had thrown at it shot back out and hit him in the head.

"Ow! What the hell was that?" Mark shouted rubbing the spot on his head where the rock hit.

“What the hell was that?” A voice replied in front of Mark.

Mark’s head shot up and he looked around widely trying to find the source of the voice but he couldn’t find one. “Who said that?”

“…Said that” the same voice replied almost sounding annoyed.

Mark quickly jumped to his feet still looking around for the voice, "Who's there? Why can't I see you?"

"...Can't I see you." The voice replied again.

Mark took a couple steps back his body trembling slightly "I-I promise I won't hurt you or do anything just please stop repeating me and show yourself."

"...Show yourself." The voice said again sounding very annoyed with Mark.

Mark took a deep breath and glanced around again, the voice sounded too real for it to just be his imagination. He scanned in front of him until he found an unnatural shimmer. He focused on the shimmer and traced it out until it came out in the outline of a boy. He trailed his eyes across the outline watching the boy standing on top of the water with wide eyes.

“Holy shit…” Mark said without meaning to.

“Holy shit,” the figure replied in agreement.

“Are- are you a ghost?” Mark asked the figure, watching as the figure rolled its eyes at him.

“Are you a ghost?” It shot back.

Mark was speechless as he reached up slowly pulling the hood to his cloak off his head to see the figure better. He paced around the beach running his fingers through his hair in astonishment, “This is amazing,” he mumbled.

“Amazing,” it replied, seeming to agree.

Mark turned back to the figure and was going to say something else when someone shouted his name from the forest, “MARK!” Mark knew that voice, he had been looking for it and he flinched at the thought.

“Mark?” The thing asked him.

Mark shrugged, "That's me. I have to go now I'll be back later. It was nice to meet you..." He trailed off hoping to get the things name.

"It was nice to meet you,” it replied curtly.

Mark ran another hand through his hair, “"Okay then. I'll see you." And then he was leaving. He had to reach him before he left again.

“Mark!” The voice shouted again.

“Jeno?!” Mark called back looking frantically for his friend.

“Mark!” He heard Jeno reply before a large figure ran into him. Mark whipped around to yell at whoever it was only to come face to face with Jeno, whose eyes widened when he saw him.

“Mark! Oh, thank goodness I found you I’ve been so worried…” Jeno began to say quickly.

“You absolute brat how can you say that,” Mark interrupted, “Renjun and I have been a mess since you disappeared, where did you even go?!”

“Shhhh,” Jeno hushed putting his hands on Mark’s arms to calm him, “I’ll show you but please calm down. I need you to trust me.”

Mark took a shaky breath and nodded, “You better have an amazing explanation,”

“I do, I promise, listen I was gone because I got my wings back,” Jeno said calmly.

“You what?!” Mark shouted.

Jeno chucked and turned around pulling part of his shirt up. Where his wounds used to be there was nothing except smooth skin. Mark brushed his fingers against where they used to be and inhaled sharply. “How- what- why?”

Jeno chuckled again turning to face him, “I saved your life without a second thought and was willing to give myself for you. Apparently, they saw it as worthy and gave me back my wings, and gave me a new person to look over.”

“Who is it?” Mark asked excitedly, happy to have Jeno back.

Jeno smiled at him, “It's you.”

“Me?” Mark asked surprised. Jeno was his guardian angel?

Jeno nodded happily, “Yep. I do have to explain a couple things to you, part of my deal was to tell you why I lost my wings and see if you’ll still accept me after.”

Mark knit his eyebrows and nodded thinking back to the boy on the cliff. Jeno took a deep breath, “I know you saw Johnny when you touched my wounds,” Mark nodded, “Johnny was the last person I was supposed to guard but as you saw I failed. Before Johnny, there were two others I failed to protect, Doyoung and Ten, both of which had a similar fate to Johnny. Due to the fact I failed to protect and save them, I was booted.”

Jeno looked at him shyly a hint of pain in his voice as he continued to explain, while Mark listened patiently. Once he finished Mark simply nodded. “I still trust you Jeno. I believe you’ll protect me.” Jeno smiled at him as a small shrill voice rang out.

“Jeno!” Renjun screamed and barreled into Jeno knocking him to the ground.

Jeno laughed loudly and tightly wrapped his arms around the tiny boy's waist, “Renjun, I missed.”

Renjun hit his chest lightly and giggled, “I missed you to dummy, where were you?”

Jeno giggled and poked Renjun’s nose while Mark stood there smiling. Jeno was back, now the only thing he had to figure out was the lake figure. Which was why he found himself walking away from said lake figure a week later.

“See you,” Mark said to the lake figure after visiting a second time.

“See you later,” it called out after Mark as he walked away skipping slightly. He began his trot back to the cave where Jeno and Renjun were waiting for him a smile still on his face. He couldn’t wait to figure out what the thing on the lake was.

As he approached he felt a looming presence over him. His eyes became bleary and he staggered a moment whispers filling his head saying unintelligible things. He whimpered slightly bringing a hand to his head and breathing heavily.

The whispers continued to get louder and louder until a pair of tan arms wrapped around Mark’s waist from behind making him jump and shriek. Mark whipped around to find a boy a little smaller than him standing and grinning. “Hey hey hey Mark,” the boy said grinning.

“Mark?” Another voice said behind him. Mark turned as he watched Jeno rush out of the cave to him Renjun following right behind him. “Are you okay? What happened? Who’s this? Did he hurt you?” Jeno said glaring at the boy and checking over Mark for any injuries.

Mark shook his head getting rid of the last of the whispers and took a shaky breath, “I’m fine Jeno, just startled.”

Jeno released a sigh of relief and turned his full attention to the tan boy in front of them, “Who are you?”

The tan boy huffed and turned to Mark, “Come on Mark you remember me, we were just talking a moment ago.”

Mark took a longer look at him until he met his blue-green eyes before his own eyes widened, “You're- your're-,”

The tan boy bowed, “Its a pleasure to meet you properly Mark, my name is Haechan, or as you know me, the magic lake spirit thing, which I am not I am a naiad there's a difference.”

Mark’s eyes continued to get wide as Haechan spoke. “How are you- what happened?”

Haechan giggled which made Mark’s heart speed up just a little, “I would like to personally thank you for breaking my curse. I can now speak and walk on land again and it’s all thanks to you.”

Mark and Jeno just stared at him blankly as Renjun’s voice rang out, “Hi Haechan! I’m Renjun, I’m a deer hybrid!”

Haechan took a step back as Renjun run up to him and hugged him tightly causing Jeno to stiffen. Haechan wrapped his arms around Renjun in a hug and looked at Mark putting a hand to his chest, ‘so precious’ he mouthed, which Mark had to agree with.

Giggling came out of Renjun’s mouth as he moved out of Haechan’s embrace and ran up to Jeno, “Jeno look I made a new friend!”

Jeno couldn’t help but smile happily as he looked down at Renjun, “I see, I’m so happy for you.”

Renjun giggled again and ran off to look at a flower that caught his attention.

“So,” Harchan clapped his hands, “I haven’t been able to speak for hundreds of thousands of years, let me tell you about the 16th century.”

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