#i genuinely don't know what to do either in those situations like brain = quiet and then i end up listening in on ppl's convos and smiling

[indigodawns]

.

[vexxandra]

for those scared of love (timeless pick-a-card)

recently had someone come into my life, this pac is for me <///333 01-11-24

pile 1 > pile 2 pile 3 > pile 4

pile 1

i feel this hyper independance about you. perhaps you have a serious appearance or a stern personality, but i get the sense that you do not like relying on others. this may be where your fear comes from. love requires co-operation, but how can you entrust your heart in the hands of another? you are so smart, strong and confident, able to pull anyone you so desire, so why are you so scared?

i feel like love is the one problem you cannot face. it's like the sun, so beautiful yet blinding- you can't help but look away. that is okay. it is okay to be scared. love is scary, i understand; what if you fall? oh but my darling, what if you fly? opening your heart will do you more good than bad, and i can tell you this with the utmost confidence.

pile two

the heartbroken pile, i see you. i feel you. i feel your fear. i feel your jaded cynicism, the soft beating of your glass heart, pieced together back and back again. i feel the tears on your cheek, faded, but flowing like the carvings of bark on a tree. you most likely either have someone in mind right now, or are recently recovering from something. regardless, you are overthinking so very much. and how could you not? you feel as if the world is against you- that you in particular never seem to get the greener grass or the brighter stars.

this situation you are living is scaring you, but is it really all that scary? are the monsters beings of your mind, or are they real? you are thinking too much i feel. take a breather, tap into your heart and slip away from the moment for a while. everything will turn out wonderfully, you will be so happy in the end. (ps: i recommend listening to some ambient noises like pink or brown to help quiet the worry thoughts).

pile three

im confused pile three, are you? there were a lot of contradictions in your cards, they were so hard to read. do you know what you want? asking with love of course. perhaps you are an indecisive person, and i feel like you don't like staying in the same place or situation for too long. you have this beautiful energy, but it all goes out the window when it comes to love. by which i mean you tend to self-sabotage yourself in the endless pursuit of answers.

i feel like this reading in particular is less about love and more about your mindset. i feel like you must work on this part of you that keeps you trapped in your brain, and you will be so much happier in all fields. i feel like you must work on this before getting into a serious relationship with a person, because it'll cause unnessecary worry for you, and i do not want you to suffer.

pile four

have you felt called to pile one? i see some similarities there, so feel free to check it out if you so desire. i feel as if your fear stems from insecurity. im getting the vibe that you dont know if people are being genuine with you or not. a specific example that will most certainly not apply to everyone is being rejected constantly during your youth, but after glowing up, everyone is flocking towards you. i feel as if you try to convince yourself you dont need love, that it is better if you stay single. there are truly so many similiarities between this pile and pile one. all of these piles have corresponding pairs which i think is cool

you are guarded with your heart, unwilling to let the wrong person in. good news is, i think you are more than emotionally mature enough to have a secure partner if you so desired it, and i see that someone intelligent and able to match your standards will be coming in soon. take care pile four, and remember that you are beautiful from the inside out, always and forever.

[autisticlee]

when you're autistic and can't mask and genuinely don't know how to talk to and interact with people, but you really want friends or something.....people tell you "go to places and ~just talk to people~ it's easy" but when you ask how to talk to people they say "just say anything" but you're super confused because any attempts to try to speak either end in getting completely ignored, bullied, or worse, because you're "weird and creepy" and can't say things right, make everyone uncomfortable, and making strange noises to communicate when you can't speak actual words isn't acceptable. that's if you can even physically say anything at all! because if you struggle to speak in general, then it's game over before it even begins. small talk seems simple because you can script most of it, but I can't even do that irl. even online when I do it, it never goes past that. i never feel connected to people, get bored/uninterested, don't know what to do after, and don't know when it's appropriate to start talking about special interests, if at all, because most people dont share my interests at all

no one has advice for that besides "just do it" and no one is ever patient or kind enough to try to engage themsleves, because no one understands how hard speaking is! it's always expected that *I* initiate everything and have to do all the work because im the one that wants a friend. no one is interested in me first, so no one will be the one to initiate first. i've gone to things alone, awkwardly did everything alone, tried to talk to people and failed, but no one approached me first or tried to converse and be friends. if someone did try to talk to me, i'd be so overwlmed with sensory processing disorder that i dont hear them and before i can try to clarify what they said, they walk away. my processing speed is so slow that i cant react before they get lost in the crowd.

I always end up extremely overwhelmed, burnt out, and need to find a quiet place alone to have at least a few meltdown or shutdowns. i'm struggling and suffering the whole time, but i'm "just doing it" because people keep telling me I need to "just try" and no one will help or support me and my needs and struggles so I have no choice but to put myself in dangerous situations where I can't be fully aware of my surroundings because i'm so disabled by my brain. I don't know how to behave if i'm not following and copying someome i'm with. instead I just dissociate until i'm not present and i'm unaware of myself and everyone and thing around me, while also being painfully aware of all the sensory input that wants to send me into meltdowns.

realistically, I don't think I *should* be going anywhere alone. I need help. I need support. I've gotten into near trouble with strangers who see me as an easy target but somehow got lucky and got away. I can't ask got help if I need it. I can't scream if one of those strangers got ahold of me. actually one DID get ahold of me once. I don't remember how I got oht of it. i dissociated so bad I have no memory after being grabbed...I don't know how to react to trouble correctly. I don't know basic common sense needed for being out alone. *I* know i'm in danger by being out alone but everyone in my life ignores my needs and struggles and forces me to either do everything alone or rot in my tiny dark room alone. so I decide to prove to them doing things alone is dangerous and doesn't help me. i'll tell them the dangerous stuff I got into they don't care. they just lecture me for not acting normal.

but I try. I try so hard. I hate every moment of ot and never get anythjg out of it except misery and pain and mental and emotional turmoil. but people don't believe me that i'm actually trying because they swear it will work if I "just try" so I keep trying and keep having a horrible time. it always ends in me feeling horrible physically and emotionally, being burnt out and disappointed that i didnt make friends like i was told i would just by going there alone. going to places does not mean you automatically make friends!!!!!! everyone else goes there *with* friends. they aren't looking for new ones. people who are good at making friends don't need to go places to make friends, because they already have them! so no social person who is good at talking and really nice is going to be there looking for friends, see i'm alone, and become my friend. hell, most social people talk one look at my awkward ass and turn the other way. they dont want someone awkward around them. my first impression is horrible. that's what people judge by. it's expected that i'm the one to try to break into a group of people and sell my soul to them and make them want to add me to their already established friend group. but i'll never know what group i'd fit in. I barely have the social energy to be around a crowd of people. how am I expected to interact with even a single person??? when you don't have the skill, social energy, or general ability to do any of the expected social stuff and cant mask on top of it, you have no other choice but to accept being alone forever...😞

[mueritos]

Hi! As a fellow trans dude who has recently discovered his autism at the ripe old age of 26, I can wholly sympathize with how you’re feeling right now. Everyone’s experiences are different, but from what you described we have very similar ones. I get extremely overwhelmed in loud, cramped situations to the point of losing speech, I get irritable and angry when planned events don’t adhere to my scheduled expectations, and certain frequencies (like clattering cutlery, loud drum beats through speakers, etc) make my nerves go haywire. What I can say is that you don’t have to call yourself autistic if you aren’t comfy with that, however it may help to learn and lean into autistic coping mechanisms for overstimulation (which sounds like that is happening during those social situations) like acquiring stim toys to help regulate, bring sensory dampeners like ear plugs (loop is a great company that makes ear plugs that block out certain frequencies for different situations), and listen to your body and your mind. If you can tell you’re starting to shut down, don’t force yourself to be like everyone else and stay if that isn’t what you want/can handle. It took me a long time to accept that I’m NOT like neurotypical people and i don’t have to pretend like I am just to fit in with the vibe. Do what feels best for you and your needs — no one else’s opinion is more important than that. If you find that you really do want to stay but can tell you’re shutting down, sometimes taking a break in a quiet space like a bathroom can help, and you can return after feeling better. I also highly recommend finding someone you trust in those situations who can help you leave if necessary. Whether it’s literally getting you out, or making it more socially acceptable/comfortable for you, I can personally attest to how much better it is when you can confide in someone about your needs in those moments and allowing them to assist you. Also, if it helps to know, I am not formally diagnosed as autistic for a variety of reasons, namely the things that can be denied of those with a formal diagnosis (like gender affirming care), but I have several autistic friends who have helped guide me to this conclusion and my life is much better for it. I know who I am and why I am Like This, and every day is easier knowing the ways I can actually help myself instead of questioning why I’m not like “everyone else”. I don’t need a diagnosis for that, and I’m happier this way. If you don’t want one either, that’s okay. Being autistic comes with a lot of ups and downs, but truly learning how to live with your brain and the way it works can lead you to so much light. The first time I let myself stim out of joy was a euphoric experience. I promise you that being autistic isn’t all sensory overload. I wish you all the best on this journey <3

thank you 😭 this is really sweet and really really helpful. I don't think I'm looking for a diagnosis either, mostly because I doubt most places I can get one will fully respect me or my experiences. I also don't want it to impede on getting GA care. Other than that, I feel like these symptoms have prolly been around for a long time, but it wasn't until a few years ago that I've been able to focus on them because HRT has made me have less turmoil. I guess my brain decided now was the time to start unraveling these experiences.

I relate though, and I genuinely dislike when plans are thrown off schedule or when things don't go the way I expect them to. It has made me rigid and become irritable when things change. For example, i was at a party that I was told would end at 10, except no one left, and I felt forced to stay an extra 2 hrs and I become overstimmed and silent. Other times it has happened when I already have a low social battery, and someone wants to be spontaneous and go do more social stuff.

I will say I have been focusing more on letting myself stim as well. I rock and fidget a lot more than I used to, and I rock forward quickly and sometimes shake my hands when I'm laughing (it's a lot easier to hide it when I'm laughing). Other times, I rock forward and shake my hands as I'm about to eat because i'm so excited. (I love food!!!!). It's also been in the way I process stuff, like taking things literally, delays in hearing, not being able to multi-task, being angry at being interrupted/distracted, being detail orientated, and I seek and avoid certain sensory stuff that aligns with other common autistic experiences (avoid bright lights/heavy noise, but seek pressure and low stimulation).

but I thank you for your input, it definitely makes me feel a lot better about having these experiences and also not being sure about taking on a label or not...i know self-dx is just as valid as an official diagnosis, but I can't deny these experiences and I also can't deny that autistic ways to cope with the world and with stimulation is working with me. It helps to learn about other people's experiences and compare it with mine, but also to know there are a lot of people in the same boat who are unsure or questioning :,)

[myimaginarywonderland]

Whenever someone tells me they didn't enjoy Andor or didn't finish it, I immediately know exactly what kind of person they are and I think I need to talk about this.

The problem is, Nowadays you just have Marvel movie, Blockbuster after blockbusters. Movies filled with 0 storyline that all act the after the same principal of good guy has to save something or someone and you get bombarded with actions shots. You get bombarded with movies that look incredible but literally require you to turn your brain of because otherwise you see how senseless the stories are. I am not judging you for enjoying a movie like that but it's sad to see how this is now a form of standard when there's storywise 0 effort.

Take some of the biggest movies these last years. Spiderman home coming: The entire story shouldn't have happened in the first story because a.) a sorcerer with that power should know not to fuck around and b.) someone should have genuinely talked to Peter and he should have had time to explain. Instead you give a plot that brings back beloved characters just to what, completely erase any character development they might have had? They were literally cheap version of the heroes they were in the beginning of their movies.

Or Endgame, a mess of storyline with way too many characters and plot holes that was just used to make profit with basically no love.

But it's not just limited to Marvel movies.

Oh no, you have a bizzilion movies like Horror movies that don't even bother to just come up with new stories instead you have another part of scream, another haunted doll movie, ...

There's just cheap action, some good shots and a plot so boring you can basically predict it without watching a movie.

And then people get so used to these genuinely bad movies (because nothing would be good without the cgi etc.) that they can't even comprehend that a good story needs build up and a bit of originality.

A good story means the more time moves on, the more you understand not only about the setting of the movie but also about the story, the characters etc.

You don't just get everything established within 2 episodes and have the rest used as stretchers.

A good story makes callbacks to things, gives hints that you only understand once you have finished it.

A good story will have you feeling all emotions, in all their complex nature because people are complex and you can see that. There's nothing as easy as good and bad especially in a setting where you are forced to be no one. Because that's what Andor tells.

Andor tells the story of the people.

No fancy jedis who might have some powers to save them.

No resistance leaders like Leia who grew up with the "perfect" roll models.

No, just normal people.

The best friend who loves too much.

The mother who cares for her child.

A man who fucks up.

Someone desperate to get validation even at the expense of someone else's life.

A person that is is just evil. A person that just enjoys having power over someone else.

The shop handler who has to extra careful about any possible side businesses.

The average worker who just has to stay quiet.

The person who truly believes in resistance.

There aren't always heroes. Very rarely do people just get to be that.

And these aren't heroic stories.

These are just people.

People who are forced to live under a cruel regime that sees anything small as an offense to them, that will hurt you for even so much as thinking different.

People who are forced to either comply or risk their lives trying to hope for any small change in the future.

And what does someone like that do in an extreme situation?

Well those stories are told in Andor.

So, no it's not boring or fast paced. The characters aren't uninteresting or too complicated.

It's just realistic. It's human.

It's difficult and complex.

It's frustrating, it's angering, it's depressing because that's exactly how it should be.

This, Andor is the reality of some many of our families , hell for many it still is a reality.

[dualnaturedscientist]

Matthew noticed that Becky was now becoming just as emotional as Gene was. Clinging back onto him as if her life depended on it. She had wrapped her tail around his waist. Seeing the perfect opportunity handed to him, while nearly all eyes were on Two-Brains and Becky he had slowly began to back away and make his way out. He knew that the three were keeping an eye on him, they knew who he was. Knew what he did more specifically. He didn't blame them for keeping an eye on him. What were they going to do? Interrupt Gene and the girl just so he wouldn't get away? It would be pretty stupid to do that. Especially when the mouse themed mad scientist had made it clear he wanted him gone. He was going to respect his wishes. Now he can rest knowing that Carl would be well taken care of now. Well protected even if they had people looking for Becky, Carl and Steven. Jenkins was about to open his mouth to alert the others to what he was doing but Matthew placed a hand over his lips. Silently telling him to keep quiet about his exit. He hadn't even made it threatening but that action alone seemed to frighten him. Jenkins immediately became pale and instantly clamped his mouth shut. Matthew hadn't meant to scare him. He just wanted him to be quiet and let him leave in peace. Him being there would aggravate the situation further than it needed to be. The tallest one had placed an arm across Jenkins chest in a protective manner. Two-Brains hadn't noticed exactly when Tristan had joined their hug. Having his arms wrapped around the both of them tightly. Tristan may have a strong hold over his emotions but this broke even him. Shedding tears as he held his husband and daughter. Alex was aware of Matthew leaving and he didn't care, knowing that Two-Brains didn't want him there either. Deciding to focus his attention on the audience his spouses had acquired. Taking both Carl and Steven and bringing them over to Hugh, who just took one look at Alex and nodded. He knew exactly what to do, the reason he was called there for in the first place. Quietly guiding them into a more private room so he could look over the two in a more peaceful and quiet area. Alex gave one look over the two before rejoining the others and leaving Carl and Alex. It took a moment for Hugh to regain his voice, still dazed from everything that had happened in the span of ten minutes. Frowning as he took a closer look at the pair. "Who would want to go first?" The two look rather apprehensive at the thought of being looked over. Sharing a knowing look before Carl spoke up. "No scientific equipment, please. No surgical tools. We have had enough with being prodded and poked." "That won't be a problem. I will check you over quickly and as painlessly as possible. With no tools. My species are able to check vitals and do some minor healing without those." That had made Steven go wide eyed. "Are you an alien too?" That seemed like a good distraction as he decided to look over first. It seemed like the easiest option, to do so while he wasn't aware. "Yes, I am. My name is Hugh Mann. It is nice to meet you. I generally don't tell many that I'm one though. So I would appreciate it very much if you were to keep that a secret. Thank you. " Carl seemed to have caught onto the obvious pun Hugh made with his name. It cause him to snort, which lead to him chuckling. The first time he's genuinely laughed in so long. Alan had followed Hugh into the other room. Feeling like he shouldn't just in case. Steven and Carl were completely unaware of his presence as he watched closely. "Finally I got a laugh. No one else found it as amusing." With that said, he finished with Steven and now started on Carl. Once he did, Hugh frowned deeply. "I'm sorry, you seemed to have received more injury than originally believed. Would you please be able to remove your shirt for me? I won't take long, I promise."

Fair City vs The Facility Revised

Matthew felt someone tug at his clothes. He looked down and saw an anthropomorphic monkey girl stare at him with pleading eyes. Matthew sighed. "Really again?" He asked in a slightly annoyed tone of voice. The little girl didn't seem to notice and just nodded her head vigorously. "Okay hop on." Matthew spoke in a defeated tone as he bent down and let the monkey girl climb on his back. The little girl put her arms around Matthew's neck gently but firmly so as to not fall of while he walked. Matthew tenderly got up and began to catch up with the other members of the party who had stopped when they noticed him and the girl lagging a bit behind. "Everything alright?" Carl asked with some concern. Matthew just gave a shrug towards his former partner. "She wanted another piggy back ride. She's probably getting tired again." Matthew stated. He didn't mind giving the strange child a piggy back ride. It brought back fond memories of when he did it with his own kids. But that was back when he was younger and didn't have to walk for so many miles on foot. Carl gave him a sympathetic look. He knew that they were all getting exhausted and a bit hungry as well. It didn't help that he and Matthew were both old men in their sixties. His nephew Steven, the young girl, and the bizarre looking monkey could make it on foot better than they could. Sadly even the youngest members of their group were also feeling the effects of hunger. Unfortunately none of them could right now afford the luxuries of finding a place to stop and eat nor hitchhiking with a kind stranger. For good reasons. They had fled a week and a half ago from a horrible place that could be described as hell on earth. A well hidden lab facility where each of them were taken and basically kept as prisoners. 'Well in Matthew's case it was more of a transfer.' Carl thought. Though deep down he still dreaded to think what would have happened to Matthew if they were still back there. He and Steven were kidnapped and forced to work for that facility twenty years ago. They were treated no better than the prisoners with the exception of not becoming latest test subjects if they behaved. Matthew was transferred there about a month back which was how he met his ex again. Carl was aghast and more enraged with these people. Were his tormentors not only power hungry but also stupid? Carl would soon realize that his views of the facility would be very accurate. Sometime ago an explosion had occurred at the facility. During the chaos and confusion, Matthew broke out and rescued Carl and Steven. None of the trio of men knew what was causing this outbreak until they ran into a young girl. Not only was her abnormal monkey appearance a surprise, but the fact that she was floating in mid air like nothing also caught them off guard. Carl believed he and the others shared the idea that this poor girl had caused the explosion that lead to their escape. Who knows how long she was a prisoner at that awful place. The three men were able to escape with her and were soon joined by a genetically altered monkey who seemed to take particular interest in protecting the child. The group set off to find a way to get to a safer location and far away from that facility as possible. They had to avoid any help out of slight fear of running into people that worked at the facility who survived. It was also difficult to seek aid due to the appearance of the monkey and Matthew who would for sure cause an unnecessary mass panic. Carl also had another mission in mind. He hoped to find the family of the little girl and her monkey friend. That too proved difficult as she couldn't speak in human tongue nor did she seem to understand much of what they said. Carl and the others took note with both anger and sorrow that the young girl and monkey seemed wary and fearful of Carl and Steven at first. Carl didn't realize why until he looked at Steven and his own lab gear. He saw how the girl and monkey seemed to be transfixed in fear at the clothing. @erraticeris @dualnaturedscientist

[draftingteacups]

Hi I’m the same anon who typed how Croagunk appear in NRC XD (I'll reveal myself soon cause it's my first time giving you something about Pokemon since I love your story XD)

I have this idea where after everyone thought Croagunk would be another chaotic Pokemon like a certain a certain. Swan only to realize he is one of the chillest Pokemon who prefers his peace and quiet so long you don't disturb him then he won't give you a poison jab 😂 I can imagine the brain cell trio being one of the victims to in getting jabbed and can you imagine there is another dorm leader meeting and then suddenly you just see the same toad who appeared out of nowhere sitting beside the desk of Crowley who was shaking a bit (He got jabbed that's why) What do you think the Dorm leaders think of him when they first met him and only to realize that he is one of chillest Pokemon being behaved and not chaotic but mature (cue a sigh from Azul who was in relief that he isn't like Swanna)

Also Croagunk would be the one monitoring the halls of NRC if he feels like it but he could be found in different places like the Botanical Garden or Fountains where he is usually resting or he would be with Soni eating with the other Pokemon while headbutting his annoying chaotic rival Swanna XD

I feel like Riddle would be happy that there is someone who can keep on eye on the students who either breaks rules or causing trouble XD

My symbol to know it's me is this -💜 cause I love purple UwU

Hello💜!

The Braincell Trio does get Poison Jabbed once in a while. Grim and Ace are the most likely culprits while Deuce gets it once in a while due to summoning a cauldron in a place where there shouldn't be a cauldron alsdkfjlkas

Although Croagunk does allow Deuce to smack the crap out of people who make fun of Happiny or bully little Happiny- yes, there are people like that because Happiny, to them, is an easy target to pick on.

For Riddle, when Croagunk first showed up, Riddle genuinely thought that the chaos would unfold just like when Swanna showed up, but throughout the time that the Pokemon's been on campus, it's gotten calmer. Ever since Riddle's encountered Pokemon, he's been curious about them, although in the beginning that wasn't exactly the case *cough cough* Episode 1 *cough cough*-

For Leona, he just braced himself for another rerun of Swanna's chaos in Savanaclaw and was met with groups of Savanaclaw students who tried to pick a fight with the toxic frog. Leona was severely unamused by it. Leona sees Croagunk in the Botanical Gardens from time to time, but the Pokemon doesn't really bother him as it enjoys its own time away from everyone. That is unless someone tries something dumb and enacts the Pokemon's Poison Jab.

For Azul, he was cautiously wary of the Pokemon. I have a good idea where to put Croagunk story-wise, so Azul would be cautious about this poisonous frog, thinking that it wouldn't cause as much chaos as Swanna. Until Episode 3 hits and it suddenly becomes Azul's biggest nightmare with both Swanna and Croagunk just ruining him for three days straight.

After a certain point, Azul is very wary of going near Croagunk and eventually realizes that the Pokemon doesn't mean harm to those that don't cause trouble. That does not include the times the Pokemon goes into the pools in the Mostro Lounge, but that's better than Swanna to Azul!

For Kalim, he'd be optimistic about Croagunk, finding it a fascinating Pokemon as all of them are! He sees Croagunk as a cool Pokemon and that doesn't change much once he realizes Croagunk's chill nature.

For Vil, Croagunk is a mixed bag. One hand, the Pokemon has Poison that can be controlled in doses, making it an interesting subject to thing about in terms of poison-making. On the other hand, the creature is quite unique in the way that it handles situations using that same poison, compared to Swanna. Vil appreciates the Pokemon for making things calmer and is thankful for the more controlled personality that the Pokemon has.

For Idia, he doesn't want another Swanna so Idia just bunkers down and waits to see what happens. Idia compares Croagunk to a laidback OP Anime Protagonist that hides their true power until it's time to save someone. Idia loses his mind with the Draco Meteor event and just thinks that this is just mind-blowing-

For Malleus, most of his opinions of Croagunk formed from meeting the Pokemon, and he thinks it's very polite. After the Draco Meteor attack that Malleus sent its way, they've been quite cordial with one another and enjoy one another's company. Malleus isn't sure if they're friends or not, but he likes to think that they are.

For Crowley, Croagunk is a menace and has remained a menace to the crow aldkfsjas ☠️

There's little explanation to be made when Crowley gets caught up with Croagunk's Poison Jab attack when trying to pull his BS on Soni or on anyone else. Add in the possibility of getting caught in-between Swanna (who actively tries to smack some sense into Crowley), and Crowley's just trying to not get attacked on a daily basis 😅

[noa-ciharu]

oh wait i have more! ranpoe,

Who's the cuddler: Ranpo definitely, Poe likes it too but is way way more shy about his wants and longings. Not to mention even after a whole year of relationship his brain still short circuits for a second or two when embraced or hugged. RIP Poe but Ranpo is just built differently.

Who makes the bed: Ranpo is a person who won't get up from chair to get sweets and bullies Atsushi or Tanuzaki to do it instead. Not even in a parallel universe he makes bed. So yea, it has to be Poe otherwise bed would never in lifetime be in proper state (both from sleeping and ya know...)

Who wakes up first: Poe, because there's no explosion loud enough to wake Ranpo up when he falls into deep slumber. At those moments he takes the only chance to sneaks a peek at Ranpo (especially when he's relaxed and not on implicit guard as when awake) free of self-consciousness and unsurety as his stare would remain undetected. Poe cherishes those moments. He always let's Ranpo sleep for way longer than what's deemed proper.

Who has weird taste in music: neither, but for different reasons: Poe genuinely has no interest in any music other than classic one or one's that suit his writing style (mystery + crime + detective tropes). Ranpo on other hand, he simply refuses to listen to "anything below his standard", but deep down is tempted to. Once Dazai came into agency with radio on arm, blasting on pure trash, Kunikida was out at that time but when returned 30 mins later chased Dazai into oblivion. Still music wormed itself into Ranpo's brain but he'd rather die than admit it.

Who is more protective: hm tought one: Poe sure would be protective but 1) if there's an active threat to Ranpo's wellbeing he'll challenge it and be more upfront 2) if there's no active threat and situation is safe he'd turn into mother hen but would be really awkward and at lost what to do. Ranpo on other hand, he'd become much more serious and quiet as he keeps on planning how to eliminate that person from existence. Quiet terrifying of him I'd say.

Who sings in the shower: Ranpo does sometimes, not too often. Also nothing fancy or opera-alike, just humming lyrics without any firm intonation or rhythm. Nevertheless Poe likes to hear it.

Who cries during movies: if either if them cries it's due to frustration of how many plotholes the movie has. Neither of them can be normal about films, be it popular ones, cliched ones or crime detective ones they find a first plothole in movie's intro. God forbid they ever go on movie double date with some other couple they'll drive them insane. Also they got kicked out of the cinema ones for exact same reason, plus Ranpo couldn't understand why he had to shut up, wasn't it better to let people know how bad the movie is?

Who spends the most while out shopping: Ranpo definitely, mostly on sweets. You only the saying "same content just different package"? Well Ranpo doesn't because he keeps on buys 10 same chocolates just the wrapping looks different. Poe himself doesn't spend much but sometimes some fancy equipment for writing catches his eye, but he decided he objectively looking, isn't in dire need of it. Ranpo is quiet shapr and ofc pays attention and each time a week later said item appears at Poe's door.

Who kisses more roughly: I don't think they're a couple that has roughness high on their intimacy types list, but that's not to say they can't be from times to times a bit forceful and over the top passionate with each other. Since both are competitive, I'd say that's where roughness can kick in (especially if they have some mind battle as prelude, oh the sapiosexuals) but they'd be equal on that part.

Who is more dominant: hm, I'd say Ranpo, in terms of personality, demeanor, affection and sexual activity. However on mental chesgame and solving mysteries I'd say they're equal. However Poe too has competitive and bolder side that's rarely seen, but always as a response to something Ranpo said or did, so it's possible for him to take more active role as well, just under special circumstances.

My rating of ship from 1-10: 7/10 for fellas is it gay to write a fanfic of both of us novel for 6 years to impress my future bf rival. In bsd rival is a queer code for your honour they're not only idiots but also in love: not only did they choose home of sexual but dumb of ass as well. Also fellas is it gay to be detective, whose privates are you investigating? Other men? And both of them said yes, God bless.

Send me a ship and I'll tell you:

[dom--minnie]

Three’s a Party

Summary: There aren’t supposed to be secrets in relationships. Unfortunately, Felix currently has three. One is let out with no problem. The second creates complications no one could have foreseen. The third, unknown to him, he isn’t the only one that holds the same secret.

Word count: 9.3k

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

Content: non-idol au, established reader and felix, gender-neutral afab reader, felix is nervous, chan is a bit of a dummy, felix wears skirts, threesome, switch! reader, switch! felix, dom! chan, mutual pining, slight lack of communication, threesome arrangement with kink and safeword discussions included, daddy kink, piv, protected sex, unprotected sex, MxM intimacy, (slight) size kink, (slight) strength kink, hand kink, finger sucking, praise kink, pet names, creampie, slight voyeurism and exhibitionism, accidental confessions, polyamory negotiations

Taglist: @solistired @hyunsluvv​

a/n: I only technically lied about the release date. Yes, I said Saturday but I also said the 18th which is today for me still, so it’s fine! I hope I made the wait worth it for anyone interested and for everyone else, voila

Relationships aren't meant to have secrets. Felix technically has several but he keeps them under wraps. The most damning one... one that he would never reveal except under the direst of circumstances. The other ones are far less destructive but are arguably more embarrassing. 

You live in blissful ignorance of all of these, at least for now. Until Felix decides he should tell you something, considering how often he thinks about them. So one day you walk into your shared bedroom with Felix he's wearing a short, blue skirt. Your face is neither positive nor negative and Felix spins, skirt flaring, staring downwards still. 

"And what's the occasion here, darling?" You question. 

Felix makes a confused noise in his throat and looks up to you just a little more. 

"Why have I received such a beautiful gift today? You look amazing, Fe."

Felix leans forward to kiss your nose and giggles when your hands roam under the skirt and squeeze his cheeks. 

"I've wanted to wear a skirt in the bedroom for a while, but wasn't really sure how you'd react." 

"Awwww baby, never be worried about anything like this. I might be confused but I love you so I'll never react badly."

Your comforting words are genuine and Felix wonders how far they truly reach. Would you say the same if he wanted to have a threesome with one of his closest friends? Or said he had a crush on, was practically halfway in love with, said friend? It's not what tonight is about and the thoughts fade when your lips connect.

You're so, so gentle with him and Felix sinks into you. Felix's wandering hands spur your own and suddenly it's like you're horny teenagers again that can't get enough of each other. Your hand slips back under the skirt and the easy access is fun, especially if he plans to wear nothing under it like he is now. Easy access to start jerking him off, and you happily do so, keeping your mouth pressed against his. 

Even with the anxiety Felix must have been imagining a number of situations with how hard he is in your hand. A sigh leaves his mouth as he rests his head on your shoulder. With one bite in your neck and only one sentence all of the power in the situation flows back to him. 

"I want you to sit on my face and then ride me, doll."

Any stress you may have had is gone after that.

Similar situations happen several more times over the next few months. Felix either has a skirt on and is obviously wearing nothing under it. Or he changes into a skirt with nothing under it when it’s clear you’re going farther tonight. Each time you’re caught a little off guard by how truly pretty he is. Lee Felix is sunshine, rainbows, and starlight of course but it’s like the skirt gives him a little extra confidence to shine brighter for you. 

So one hurdle down, only two more to go, great. Felix has never been so glad to have incognito mode with the number of phrases he googles related to 'how to bring up wanting a threesome with your significant other.' 

It's honestly not that useful, as the so-called advice was generic things he could've gotten from anyone. 'Trust them and they'll trust you' or 'do it with someone you both trust' like thanks he knows all of this already. 

Your next take-out dinner and movie night brings some strange behaviour from Felix. He's quiet where normally he'd be commenting on these extraordinarily stupid characters. When one of them completely ignores the obvious thing and Felix doesn't react in the slightest you know he's not paying attention at all. 

He certainly pays attention when you stop the movie and straddle his lap. Your hands cup his face and your forehead rests on his while your eyes meet. 

"What's on your mind, Pixie? Don't try to avoid it either, I know." 

Your gentle compassion almost makes Felix want to spill everything. It all bubbles up to the tip of his tongue but then he thinks of the possible disgust or heartbreak and pushes most of it back down. 

"You know how you said I don't have to be uncomfortable bringing up anything about... bedroom life?" 

You giggle at the euphemism and how adorably shy Felix gets about it when not in the act. Regardless, a hum of assent vibrates your throat. 

"I've been thinking about having a threesome." He blurts then squeezes his eyes shut, not allowing your reaction to reach his eyes. 

The small boop your finger leaves on his nose leads him to open his eyes. Nothing about your expression is negative and you look at him as fondly as ever.

"Do you-"

"Chan." 

A bright, fond laugh bubbles over your lips. 

"Sorry love, you just answered so quickly. Sure, we both trust him. We can talk to him about it and... arrange a day." 

Arrange sounds more formal than you intend but that's what it is. With the weight off of his mind, Felix is able to make fun of the new characters not seeing the plot right in front of them.

Chan knows this is a bad idea, he even cares that it's a bad idea, and yet he agrees. Backing out at any time is always an option, neither of you will be mad. It doesn't matter because he won't. Even if it hurts he will take the one chance he may ever get to screw around with both of his crushes. 

There was no pretense of a normal hangout. You texted Chan that you wanted to talk about something. When you all sit down Felix ends up doing the talking about it since it was his idea in the first place. You both want to have a threesome with him. 

It takes all of Chan's willpower not to coo at the blush that spreads across Felix’s face and ears. Also, a significant amount of brainpower to agree with the right amount of excitement. Not too little that you think he's unsure or doesn't want it wholeheartedly. But not too much that you are suspicious about any underlying feelings or motives he could have. 

Really, you're just thinking about your boyfriend and how cute he is. Not anything against Chan but you love Felix with every cell in your body and it pours out of you often. He can see it from a mile away and doesn’t mind because he’d love to be doing the same thing. Looking at Felix with all the fondness in the world that lets each side know that everything’s going to be ok. But alas, a threesome will have to do for now. Or forever, honestly. 

Then the fun part of it comes: interests. What does Chan have that he likes to do, and would like to do with you. Vice versa, what are you comfortable with and want to do with a sudden, if trusted, third-person present. 

"I'm wearing a skirt," Felix says. 

You smile at how easily he's able to say it, a stark contrast to before. You know that it will give the same confidence on the day of all of this as well. Surprise flits over Chan’s face but he just nods and doesn’t say anything more. 

"I want to dominate both of you." Chan brings it up first, any type of power play and dynamics. 

You and Felix look at each other then back at him and both nod excitedly. Chan already has strong leadership qualities, especially around all of the boys so really this makes sense. It will be very attractive for him to be giving you full orders and expecting them to be followed. Even thinking about it makes your brain work overtime and you have to physically shake yourself out of it.

"Felix and I… we'll just see how it works out. But we’ll both listen to you, for sure. Sound good?" 

You have to check with Chan if he's going to be in charge of both of you. A quick look between both of you and then he nods. 

A moment goes by and you look at Felix with a smirk on your face. He frantically shakes his head before you turn back to a visibly confused Chan. 

"Felix over here has a strength kink. Wants someone to manhandle him a bit." You drawl and Felix doesn't even mock tackle you. 

"Yeah, well you have a size kink! Wanting someone to look down at you and hands fitting around your limbs."

Felix sticks his tongue out at you as you feel your cheeks heat up to the temperature of the sun. Perhaps Chan fits you better than first anticipated. Strength and size in one, not to mention some other interests he slots right into. 

"Any kinks you both have and aren't about to expose to me?"

You and Felix easily speak in unison.

"Praise and hands."

The moment you say that Chan reaches his hands out and lays them vertically so you can see the incredibly veiny backs. Imagining those fingers in any of your wet holes has you readjusting your legs and you can hear Felix do the same next to you.

Felix clears his throat in an obvious attempt to quickly move along from that. 

"Anything you have in mind, Channie?"

The nickname is affectionate and if you didn't know better you'd think the tips of Chan's ears are flushed under his curls. 

"Praise for me is good, no matter who’s giving or receiving it. I like nicknames or pet names, titles as well."

When it becomes clear Chan isn't elaborating you both lean forward in a clear gesture for him to continue. 

"Ok. Baby, bunny, angel, beautiful. For myself? I dunno, choose some. Particular titles especially." 

You all have flushed cheeks as this is becoming a reality, hearing Chan say these things out loud. Hopefully, you'll both be saying some of them as well. One title sticks in your mind and you’ll just have to test whether he’s into that or not. 

"Safewords." You state and both men nod. "We use the colour system generally. Green, yellow, red.”

"Sure," Chan easily agrees. It only slightly surprises you that he knows, and has probably used that exact safeword system before. 

You lean forward to rest your cheek on your palm. 

"I mean... I think that's everything? We can have a phone call or hangout if there's anything else."

Okay but... when? When are we gonna do this?" Felix points out.

It had gotten lost in actually arranging but the goal of this was actually enacting it all so that fact was a bit important. 

"Like 2 weeks from now?" Chan says. 

You consider it, a fair amount of time to go but not too far either. Enough time to mentally prepare but not to freak out fully and leave the country. You look at Chan then Felix who voices his agreement. 

"Alright then, Saturday in 2 weeks. Come over for dinner, Chan. We can ease into it that way."

You stand and Felix follows. Heading to the door you both give Chan a hug, Felix longer and tighter than yours as usual. 

You step out and turn around to face Chan again. 

"See you later, daddy." You wink.

Felix purposefully makes his voice lower and repeats the playful words. It's obvious he tries to hide it but Chan shivers at Felix's voice. You only knew to look because he has the same effect on you.

The two weeks pass entirely as normal. A couple hangouts with various groups of the guys and knowledge of the future threesome doesn't invade your mind. The day before you thought Felix would be visibly stressed already but he seems entirely fine. 

He seems fine to you, but Felix is good at hiding his emotions if need be. And he is freaking the fuck out. There came some point where it really settled in that this was a plan, it was happening, and it was going to be tomorrow. From that point on it had hardly left his head. Hiding his feelings while fucking around with the man? Is that even possible for a Lee Felix? It doesn’t really matter because it’s already happening, so really something is going to happen and he is determined not to ruin it. 

To calm himself down there’s a number of things he can do, yet he chooses the one that wouldn’t make sense to most people. Calling his best friend, the slight hyperactive squirrel man, Han Jisung. Jisung is adept at the two things that can bring Felix out of almost any type of nervous state, whether with genuine comfort, or with chaotic distraction. 

Yet when he calls, Jisung seems to know something is different. 

“Soooooo, what is up my dude? How have you been?” Jisung sings.

“Ah, just a bit nervous for no reason and I know you’re not doing anything.”

Jisung is silent for a couple moments longer than the normal, puzzling. 

“You sure it’s nothing? You’ve been…. extra. The past week, especially.”

Felix goes over the last times they’ve hung out together, especially as a group of 9. There’s nothing out of the ordinary that he thinks Jisung may count as ‘extra’, whatever that even means. 

“Extra what, Ji? What are you even talking about?” Felix laughs, assuming Jisung will too and they can just move on. 

“You’ve been staring at Chan like way more than usual, dude. I thought it was ridiculous before, but now… he’s either denser than a brick or ignores it.”

Felix’s mouth drops open and he’s silent for nearly half a minute. Other people have noticed how often he stares at Chan? Jisung noticed how much he stares at Chan? This is an entire disaster. And if Chan ignores his stares, then what does that mean. Actually, no, if he goes too far down that route then he’s going to chicken out of all of your plans and he wouldn’t dare ruin it. 

“Are you the only one who noticed?” Felix asks hesitantly, mouthing please in hopes that if someone else has noticed as well, that it’ll just go away.

“No… Jeongin and Seungmin are wayyyyy too observant for that, the little demons. Minho, too. I haven’t heard from the others but if I’ve noticed then…” Jisung trails off. He’s not the least observant in the group. That title goes to Felix and Chan themselves. But he and everyone else would put him low on the list, so if he knows then almost everyone else probably does too. Well, shit.

“I’ll only tell you if you promise with your whole heart not to tell anyone else.” 

Felix’s heart is pounding and it thrums loudly in his ears. Is he really about to tell someone else about this? Jisung, no less. 

“I’m concerned but yeah, of course. Unless it’s a crime.”

Felix forces out a laugh, and he knows Jisung can tell but neither of them comment on it.

“So… maybe I have a bit of crush on Chan. It’s fine, it’ll go away eventually and I can just move on, but for now. I have crush feelings.”

Jisung is silent and Felix has to check if he hung up at some point.

“So you stare at your ‘just crush’ like he put the moon up himself? Not believing that or a second. But I understand now, so whatever. You gonna tell them or…?” 

Felix lets out a real laugh this time, then scoffs like Jisung’s proposed robbing a bank tomorrow. 

“And have them break up with me? No thanks, I’ll just live with it.”

This time its Jisung scoffing so hard his throat will be sore.

“You’re an idiot. If they love you, and we both know they do, then it’ll be fine. Be honest about your feelings, it’ll only make you stronger.”

Felix considers it, turning the idea over in his mind. Inevitably, his mind turns to your possible reactions. His dreams come first, the ones where you somehow like Chan as well and Chan likes you both. Or the ones where you’re ok with it. Or any of the ones where Chan even likes him back. But of course, the more likely reality. Where you’re uncomfortable or disgusted. Or want to… nope. 

“I’ll think about it. Thanks Ji.”

“Sure man, anytime. Popcorns going so I’m gonna dip. Good luck.”

Felix is left in the silence of the bedroom to ponder. They both know he won’t do it but the wonderful fantasies make it seem possible. Some wonderful fantasies can come true, somehow.

The stress explodes in the morning. Felix is out of bed when you wake up and when you exit the apartment is practically sparkling. From top to bottom, you’d believe this house had never been lived in if your pictures and souvenirs weren’t everywhere. There's also a wonderful cookie smell coming from the kitchen, and it draws you in. Whenever Felix bakes it floods through your apartment and makes it seem like a home. Cheesy, yes, but it’s really what he does to you. 

Felix's back is to you when you come in the kitchen and you wrap your arms around his stomach. He lets out a small squeak of surprise before giggling, face lighting up at you being awake finally. 

"You do know Chan's been here before right? You didn't have to do this."

Felix sighs and turns to face you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. 

"I know I didn't have to. I'm just nervous and all this kept my mind off of it for a bit."

You coo at your adorable boyfriend and peck his pink, pouting lips. 

"No matter what happens he's just Chan. You're still you, I'm still me. It'll be ok, Fe." 

The sigh Felix lets out has a different meaning to you both. You assume it's clearing his mind and re-centreing himself. Really it’s thoughts of how, at the end of the day Chan is never just Chan for him, but this is reality and not his ideal world. He doesn’t get to have two attractive partners to come home to every day. The timer goes off behind him and the reminder makes the smell of cookies flood your nose and mind again. 

"Join me on the couch when you're done, baby. I'm gonna work on some stuff for a bit." 

The reminder of cookies existing every timer goes off is delightful, and really the only reason timers should exist ever. Most of the way through the batter, Felix dances into the living room and feeds you one, delightful as always. He’s beautiful like this. The lingering stress showing on his face from the morning is entirely gone. The blinds are finally open for a reason and sunlight reflects off your sunshine.

The day passes easily once it begins and Felix is done practically vibrating out of his skin. In the early afternoon, he even falls asleep with his head in your lap for a while. Looking at him is like looking at a sleeping kitten, curled up and peaceful. 

It gets later, a bit darker and you pull up the recipe on your laptop. The kitchen barely fits 2 people but you and Felix work well enough together that there are few problems. It’s nice to just… coexist with someone else so peacefully and naturally. The door rings and you and Felix glance at each other, for just a bit too long before he patters away. 

They both pop their heads around the corner and Chan joins you both, squishing the kitchen space even more. He gives you both soft kisses on your foreheads, smiling and greeting you quietly. As soon as he does you and Felix look at each other and nod, kissing his cheeks at the same time. His cheeks flare bright red and his eyes widen but he quickly recovers. Expression settling and laughing, even if his ears and cheeks don’t stop burning for quite a while. Then you notice the box, probably a dessert that you won't be getting to tonight. Or… you will get to dessert technically, it just won’t be any of the typical sugar. 

It proceeds normally, you may even forget what your plans are for a minute. But as plates start getting emptier Felix is the first to tense up. Chan follows soon after but you manage to stay the calmest, at least on the outside. 

Chan puts his hand on your knee first and you stand. Suddenly, Felix's grasp comes from your other side and tugs you towards him. He looks so… innocent that you just can't help but tangle your fingers together. At the same time, he tilts his head up towards you, waiting for a kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair and press your lips against his. 

You both turn to Chan after and he's sitting up, completely straight and still. You round the table and he puts his hand on your hip. It doesn't escape your notice about how much of you it covers and you resist looking down to see it. 

"Can we kiss you?" You ask, breath fanning across his lips. 

He should say no. Say no, say no, saynosaynosay- 

"Yes." He says with false ease. 

You lean in and he lets you lead it, simply resting his hands on you. Felix comes up behind you and rests his head on your shoulder, watching. 

Chan briefly bites your bottom lip but you pull away before too much happens in the kitchen. Before you can move Felix switches places with you and throws his weight against Chan. It's like he was prepared and his hands go around Felix's back. You take a good long look at them before playing with Felix's hair and taking your own turn to watch them. 

"We should go to your bedroom." Chan pants out, eyes blown wide when he opens them. 

"You heard him, baby boy. Follow him." 

You giggle when Felix whines at the pet name. 

"You're our baby boy tonight, aren't you?" You tease. 

Chan feels something flare inside of him when you use such possessive words, especially "our" anything. In any other situation, he knows it would be "your" and it kills him. He wants so much more, but he cannot either of you entirely in the way he wants so much. It's not a controlling type, simply a statement. Felix is yours as you are his, and neither of you are Chan's. 

The moment you reach the room the door is closed and you are pinned onto it. You watch Felix disappear to change but Chan makes sure your attention is back to him quickly. He kisses you again, but harder this time. 

Felix feels like this is a dream. Maybe he's finally achieved lucid dreaming. Because he's standing in the bathroom changing his skirt and about to have a threesome with his significant other and best friend/crush. That can't be real. So he's ready to wake up and tell you about the totally wild dream he had. But not the feelings, because those are still very real. 

He never wakes up. Instead, he pulls the skirt on and walks out to see you pinned against the door and Chan nipping at your neck. 

When Felix appears your attention is immediately split between them. It goes back to Chan pretty quickly when he starts whispering in your ear. 

"I certainly know what I want to do. First, I'll watch the 2 pretty kittens in front of me for a while. A pretty picture being painted right in front of me. I'll keep the rest to myself for now. Go kiss your pretty boyfriend and give me a show, alright sweetheart?" 

He backs away slowly and you go to Felix, whispering in his ear as well. 

"He's going to watch and wants a good show from us first. So let's give him one, huh?" 

Felix throws his arms over your shoulders and nods. Before you can tug him in he looks at Chan who nods as well before pulling out your desk chair. 

Your kiss with Felix is already heated and messy, the extra thoughts of an audience and pleasing that audience in mind. It moves faster than you normally would when in the bedroom. Though the tension of the whole day, and especially of the dinner may be enough to make up for that. 

Your hands roam furiously around each other and each time your lips break apart you each let out a gasp before diving back in. Felix starts walking you towards the bed with slow steps and flips it around so you fall onto his lap. Before he can do anything you fall to the ground on your knees. 

When you flip up his skirt and see nothing underneath you can hear Chan groan from his spot. Immediately you sink your mouth down, gagging just slightly as he hits the back of your mouth. Taking a second to breathe, you look up at Felix who already has his eyes closed. When you stop his eyes flutter back open and his hands go to your hair, resting there with no intention of pulling. You bob your head slowly, not taking him all the way in every time. A couple times you try to glance at Chan in the corner but he’s moved farther than what you can see. So, your attention is focused on Felix who’s very entertaining and responsive on his own. 

It starts as low moans that tell you he’s feeling good but you’re already looking for the high whines that you know he gives out. You hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue in that way you know he likes, and the low groans turn into higher moans. They’re quieter than normal and you can tell he’s holding back, which is understandable, but you want him to let go. 

Your head gradually bobs faster and faster, with Felix’s moans getting higher and more frequent. With one particularly deep dip, he hits your throat and a loud whine breaks free. You do it again and again, letting Felix lose control. His hands twist in your hair, still not enough to cause any pain to you, but his hips stay still to let you set the pace. You know Felix is close and you both want it and are both ready to receive it, even so early in the night.

“No, no, little one. He’s not cumming yet.” Chan suddenly speaks, tone firm. 

Felix whines and you make a disappointed noise and slow down, not giving him enough of anything anymore. 

Felix pushes you off of him with a shuddering breath and a poorly concealed whine. After a moment of confusion, you switch places with him. He’s on his knees and starts peeling off your pants, with the noises of Chan shifting in the background. With every inch of skin that is revealed under your pants, he makes sure to kiss it, all the way down to your ankles. He pulls down your underwear after, with less reverence and more impatience this time. 

Before he can dive in, as he so clearly wishes to, Chan clears his throat across the room. 

“Felix.” Said man perks up and turns towards Chan, eager to please. “Turn them towards me and let me have a look, won’t you baby?” 

You obediently don’t move and let Felix turn your body, spreading your legs as well. Even without looking down, you know that you’re soaked already. Chan’s groan confirms it and you shift impatiently. Felix waits though, until Chan nods, before turning you back and getting his mouth on you. 

All things considered, he’s gentle but the build-up and tension makes each bit of pleasure like a shot of electricity through your body. He licks eagerly, tasting you and making you twitch. Your hands go his hair less nicely than his did before. You tug at the strands, which only makes him moan into you which makes your hips buck into his mouth. Each small sound from Chan makes you want to see and feel him but you wait, indulging in Felix as is. 

Felix knows exactly how you want it and with every minute that passes your whines get louder and with each flick of his tongue your brain gets fuzzier. Chan is taking a relatively hands-off approach for now but even with his seemingly infinite patience, he must want more. It’s hard to focus on that when Felix is eagerly slurping at your wetness and making you want to ride his face. You test the waters by rolling your hips once, twice, three times. When neither man stops you, you roll them incessantly. 

With no prior experience, Chan somehow seems to know exactly when to stop you from getting too close.

“Felix, stop.”

Felix eagerly obeys, and you whine loudly in disappointment. One look from Chan cuts you off and you resolve to not protest again when he finally walks over. He stands above both of you but looks down with fondness and not scorn. 

“How should we do this, pretty pets?” 

You don’t even look at Felix before boldly speaking to him, knowing it was mostly a rhetorical question.

“Fuck me! Please?” Your sudden boldness is tempered by the way that Chan looks at you and you dip your head down.

Felix visibly brightens once his fuzzy brain puzzles out that he’ll probably get to be back in your mouth. He’s the first one onto the bed and you follow, Chan coming up behind you. Your kiss with Felix is interrupted by Chan tugging your shirt over your head and shoulders. He pulls it off and you turn around to pull his own clothes off, bringing Felix over as well. 

Chan laughs when you both eagerly tug at his own clothes, trying to pull everything off at once.

“Slow down little ones. You’ll get it all soon.” 

You and Felix stop and stare when his shirt comes off and you are suddenly very aware of him. It isn’t that Chan hides how muscular he is, just that you didn’t pay too much attention to it before. Now, you’re certainly paying a lot of attention. It’s broken when Chan goes to Felix’s shirt and you’re as excited as usual to reveal what’s underneath. 

Just the sight of them alone nearly has you drooling and your hands run over their bodies at the same time, hardly believing they’re both in front of you. There’s hardly a chance to admire them as they both want to see you as well and pull your shirt up, one hand on either side. 

Chan’s hands get on you and dip lower, lower and all the way down to between your thighs. You shiver and watch his face, waiting for his next move. Felix’s hands go up, to your nipples. His warm hands on you makes you shiver but still, you watch Chan who just is not moving. It makes you want to whine and beg but you know, almost for sure, that he’d disapprove. So you wait. The light touches on your nipples makes you whimper and moan occasionally and Chan watches you. 

With a slowness that makes you want to scream, he pushes one finger inside. Even the barest feeling of being full makes you shudder and sigh in relief. After a few thrusts of his fingers where he meets no resistance, he pushes a second one in. You make a high noise in your throat and lean back against Felix’s chest, who takes the easy opportunity to kiss along your neck and shoulder. 

The sensitivity of being so close from Felix’s mouth is still there and it has you moaning louder than you normally would. One of your hands reaches out and grabs Chan’s hand that is laying on his thigh. He doesn’t stop you so you bring it to your mouth and suck on two of his fingers. Felix lifts his head and groans at the sight, Chan’s pretty hands in your beautiful mouth. 

Both men seem to thoroughly enjoy just playing with and teasing you, and it feels so good that you honestly don’t want them to stop. But you’re also craving so much more. With reluctance, you pull Chan’s fingers out of your mouth and whine at him.

“Daddy, please!” 

He raises an eyebrow at your insistent tone and pushes another finger into you. It makes your head fall back onto Felix’s shoulder but also increases the need of being filled by Chan right now. 

“No~ need you to fill me up, please.”

He slams his fingers into you, hard and deep and it makes you gasp. 

“Do these fingers not fill you enough? They just aren’t good enough for you.”

Felix behind you huffs then laughs, clearly caught between finding Chan’s teasing amusing or exasperating on your behalf. 

“Don’t make me say it! You know what I want.”

Felix finally starts sucking marks on your shoulder and it makes you sigh happily, a good distraction for just a moment before Chan speaks again. 

“I wanna hear you say it, sweetheart. I want to hear you beg.”

Chan’s tone makes even Felix gasp, his mouth disconnecting from you and a sudden, hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. You shiver from the many sensations on your body and the sudden addition of his clear order. 

“Want… want your dick, please. Daddy, fuck me!” 

After you’re done speaking Chan puts his fingers back in your mouth, letting you suck on them contentedly. If you’re going to get what you want you have to leave what you have and Chan pulls all of his fingers out of you at once. You know better than to whine so you hold it back, but your eyes screw shut in displeasure. 

“All fours, doll. Come on now.” Chan coaxes, and Felix also sighs when he has to disconnect from you. Chan takes that time to get a condom, and when he turns he just admires you and Felix on the bed. A perfect picture, but one that he’s also involved in tonight. 

You get on your hands and knees then just wait for them to touch you again. Felix knows he’s still a bit sensitive and waits for Chan to start. Chan with infinite patience that is now absolutely killing you. His hands are feeling you up, down your ass and thighs and back up again. When he notices how obviously impatient you both are he finally lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in. 

It makes you sigh. The opening of your mouth prompts you to look up at Felix who smiles down at you. You push your neck out, wanting him in your mouth and he pets your head. His fingers lift your chin and make you look up at him again.

“Be good for us, baby. Make us feel good.”

You eagerly nod and he finally moves closer. Once the tip of his dick is in your mouth, you start swirling your tongue around it. The moment he thrusts in you open your mouth wider and let him use it. It doesn’t take Chan and Felix long, as close and in sync as they are, to set a rhythm where when one of them pushes in the other pulls out. Chan’s thrusts push you towards Felix so much that his cock is nearly always in your mouth fully. 

At some point, you can feel the drool starting to drip down your chin and Felix coos while he wipes it away. 

“So messy, baby! Drooling all down my cock.” 

All you can do is hum in agreement and hope he hears it. Being absolutely ruined with him in your mouth is always a fun experience and having Chan behind you improves it quite a lot. Speaking of Chan. His hand has come around and two of his fingers are feverishly rubbing your clit. It makes the long-awaited pressure build-up and he groans when you clench around him. 

“Such pretty pets in front of me. Wet holes dripping down our dicks and making everybody messy. You just can’t hold it in, can you little one? That’s ok, we know you’re enjoying it.”

Chan’s voice is raspy when he speaks and it bolsters your confidence to know how good he’s feeling, too. It’s not as if you can say or do much about it. Especially not when you can feel an orgasm building and he thrusts so hard to make you dizzy. 

Felix broke back into high whines a minute or two ago. When he speaks, it’s strained and he can barely get more than a few words out at a time if he can think them at all.

“Gonna cum. I want you to- to swallow it. Holy fucking shit, your mouth is so good, honey.”

You open your eyes, when did they even close, to look up at Felix. Attempting to get across how good he feels and how badly you want it. His chest rises and falls with quick, harsh breaths. Chan is so good behind you, rubbing your clit in small circles and long length filling you up better than you dared to hope. Your own peak is building but can barely focus on that for now, no matter how badly you want to. 

Felix hits your throat once then twice more and with a small cry and jerk of his hips he cums. His whole body quivers and trembles as his seed shoots down your throat. You cough on it for a moment but swallow it down. The convulsion of your mouth projects a high-pitched whine from his own. 

The moment Felix leans back, and your mouth is still left open, Chan drives into you roughly. A noise of surprise that you barely recognize comes from you before you start moaning, feeling your own high so presently. With Felix no longer in front of you, Chan holds your hips and pulls you back, slapping against your skin even louder every time he thrusts in. The continued stimulation on your clit is almost overwhelming in its intensity. 

Felix can see the grunts and groans leaving Chan’s mouth but can’t hear them due to your own keening moans. To everyone’s surprise, Chan cums before you do but doesn’t dare stop or slow down his pace, even when it overstimulates him. The movements of his hips are less fluid but it doesn’t make you feel any less pleasure. With each thrust, he had learned to hit nearly any spot you needed him to. 

He’s left panting but is rewarded when you let out a gasp and something that sounded like ‘gonna cum’. Your whole body shivers when it washes over you and even still Chan thrusts which makes shake that much more intense. Eventually, he stops when it becomes far less pleasurable for himself, he has a limit, but still rubs circles on your clit. A distraction shows in the way of Felix who climbs onto his lap. The relief and pleasure are still coursing through you and you flop to your side, curling your legs up and inwards. You watch them kiss through blurry eyes and how Felix submits to him so readily. 

“Lixie~ one more? Inside?” You pout. 

Chan coos and runs a thumb over your puffed-out bottom lip. It’s always a bit of extra fun when you let Felix cum inside. It’s a bit messy which neither of you really wants to deal with afterwards. Tonight’s special so why not add an extra little bit of a reward for him? 

Felix turns to you and gasps. When you don’t laugh it off, he moves in front of you.

“Can you ride me? If you’re not too tired, I mean, of course.” 

The way he nearly spits out the words, like they just can’t come out fast enough is adorable. You prop yourself up on your hands and look at Chan over his shoulder, with wide eyes just barely seen by him.

“Go ahead, pets. I’ll join the show again in a bit.” 

You giggle and nearly tackle Felix down by his shoulders. His hands go to your hips out of instinct but you sit on one of his thighs first. Sitting on his thigh, you nearly want to grind and ride on it, looking at Chan’s thighs makes you fully pout again. Those are some good thick ones that you’d love to sit on. Felix chuckles when sees what you’re staring at but tugs you forward by the hips to try and get you moving. 

You make a noise of recognition and easily sit down fully on his dick. The familiar fullness makes you let out a small mewl. 

“Does he feel good, kitty?” 

“Mmh, yes. Really good, daddy.” Your voice is breathy, different from the fully voiced moans from when Chan was railing you before. 

“Ride him then, doll.” 

The order that you were actually waiting for comes and you bounce, slowly. Chan is intending to let you go at your own pace but when a fair amount of time passes, with a fair few whiny moans from Felix, he tsks. 

“You can do better than that. Faster, harder. Make him feel good.”

You place both palms flat on Felix's chest and spread your fingers wide. Your thighs flex as you ride him and the slide makes you gasp. After you’ve set a steady pace for yourself you take your hand to your clit, starting a bit slowly but going quicker as the stimulation doesn’t quite satisfy you as you need it to. Felix watches you, enraptured. You try to look back whenever your eyes are open but it’s overwhelming and they swiftly screw shut again. 

Felix is back to his low groans that you can nearly feel and it’s nearly unbearably unattractive. Chan thinks the same if the small noises he, unintentionally, lets out are any indication. He tries to mumble praises to you but more often it’s Chan who takes the lead. 

“Such pretty little babies, putting on a good show. Only for daddy to see.” “You both look so cute and small. I’d be able to ruin you both so easily.” 

His words and encouragement make you clench and Felix jerks his hips up into you more than once as well. It’s good and you want to keep going but soon your thighs are a bit sore and tired and you begin to slow down again, whining in disappointment. 

“Looks like kitty can’t quite keep up anymore. Why don’t you do it instead, Lix?” 

The familiar nickname used in such a different context makes Felix suck in a sharp breath and his eyes widen. He’d really like to get used to that but as it is he holds your hips and starts pumping. Felix just manages to hit different spots inside of you when he does it himself and he has you moaning loudly within a minute. 

When you look back over at Chan he’s jerking himself off in time with Felix’s movements. He’s not sitting close enough for either of you to reach but his eyes flick all over both of you, taking it all in. Looking down at Felix, his eyes are completely closed but his mouth is open to let you hear his low moans. They get a bit louder and you can tell he’s getting close so you turn on the begging.

“Lixie, baby. Cum inside me, please. Want you to make it all messy and I wanna see it drip out.”

Felix grunts and starts cursing under his breath. In less than two minutes he spills inside you and the warm spurts of cum fill you up more. Your breath is heavy as you get closer again yourself. Chan finally joins you again, fingers replacing yours. Felix still jerks his hips into you as much as he can, but he’s too sensitive for too much of it. Still, Chan’s hand just works and you roll your hips into his hand to feel more. He barely has to do anything honestly. Still jerking himself off with the other hand you can tell he’s holding back by how tight his voice is.

“Use Lix and my hand to get yourself off, kitten. I’ll do it with you, too.”

Your mouth falls open and a long, loud moan comes out. Your second orgasm feels like an overflow of the senses, so much so that you barely even notice Chan spilling over yours and Felix’s legs. You come down with a shiver and your legs and fingers are left with the most shakiness. 

“Up, sweetheart. We wanna see it drip.” 

Felix’s voice is low and rough but not stern. You nod and slip off of him, laying down and letting them both see. It’s nothing you can see yourself but from both of their low noises, it’s very appreciated.

You’re all left panting, sweaty, and shaky. You stay on your back and throw your legs on top of Felix’s. Chan stands and shuffles off to find towels for you all first. It makes you recognize that you need water and you grumble and sigh before standing. Felix hears you and jumps up to get you on his back. Just as you get onto Felix’s back, Chan returns.

“Why don’t we dry ourselves off first, okay cuties?” 

You both sit back on the bed and look up at Chan with wide eyes. He continues to take care of you both as best he can and it makes you even sleepier, eyes drooping occasionally. Felix keeps you awake with small jabs and pokes. Everything you all need is done and Chan has agreed to stay for the night. All the buses have stopped, Ubers seem sketchy, and any other arguments he may have are shot down. As well as the argument for him just sleeping on the couch. Felix wiggles himself in the middle and shoots a firm ‘cuddle me’ at Chan before snuggling happily down and going to sleep.

You and Chan share small glances of bewilderment before settling in as well. It’s hesitant but you can feel how Chan eventually moves in, centimetres at a time, to do something that could be considered as cuddling Felix, if you really want to stretch it. The bed is full but instead of feeling crowded you feel comforted, knowing two of your favourite people are the ones there with you.

Chan wakes first but doesn't move in a way that would indicate he's in anything but deep sleep. Once he's sure neither of you are awake he sits up and gazes at both peaceful, sleeping faces in front of him. You're both beautiful in the throes of passion but there is something about the peaceful light of day that pangs his heart differently. 

Surreptitiously, under the blankets you and Felix hold hands but lay with eyes closed as you feel Chan looking, observing. He takes a heavy breath in that makes you want to sit up and ask, comfort him, but something about the stillness in the air stops you. 

"Fuck," he curses lowly, but in a different way than the last night. "You're both so beautiful, I wish every morning could be like this." 

You stay quiet, even if thoughts race through your mind, but sensitive Felix gasps, no matter how hard he tries to muffle it. Chan leans back against the wall to create as much distance as possible. 

Felix sits up slowly and you follow a moment after. Chan lets out some nervous, forced chuckles. The confidence of yesterday has melted away, leaving the usual, shyer Chan sitting here instead. 

"Channie?" He shudders. "What did you mean by that?" 

He stutters and fumbles, trying not to lie but also keep feelings intact. Eventually, he just stops and freezes everything for a moment. Then before you can even think, he tries to leap off the large bed towards the door. Felix is fast and grabs one wrist while you rush to stand and grab the other to push him back down.

There is no fight, only an acceptance to sit back down. 

"Channie, please." Felix chokes out the words and when you look at him he's on the verge of tears. 

Why is unknown, but it's clear this is going to be a difficult conversation. 

Chan sighs and runs a hand through his hair, flipping his head to look at both of you. 

"I never thought this was going to happen, any of this. Last night, everything this morning. But whatever happens, don't let my words affect your relationship."

He looks at both of you separately to receive an agreement. 

"I really like you both, romantically. Maybe even love but I've tried to avoid the thoughts. For obvious reasons."

In the silence of anticipation, Felix's tears had dried on his eyes but now they sit, teetering on the edge of his eyelids.

"Lix. Are you ok? You look like you're about to burst." You speak gently to Felix because he looks like a terrified little animal. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I was never going to tell you." 

Your confusion only grows at his vague words and you can't see Chan from the way he's turned his head. 

"I understand if you wanna break up with me. I'd probably want to if the roles were reversed."

A gentle hand on his knee prompts Felix to raise his head and look at you.

"It's ok, love. I'm sure we can work this out. Just tell me the whole story first."

"Chan and I have been best friends for so long, years before I thought about dating anyone. He's seen all my highs and lows. Then you came and changed that a lot and we started dating. But still, somewhere along the way I... I developed feelings for him." 

Felix curls himself so small it seems impossible and leans away from both you and Chan. You sit in stunned shock and try to make sense of everything that just happened. When your eyes focus again Chan's eyes are flicking between you and Felix. Felix. 

You mentally curse and lunge towards him, embracing him in a tight hug. 

"Can you look at me, my love?" You coax gently. 

He sobs harder at the loving, familiar pet name coming from your mouth but obliges. Somehow still the prettiest man you may have ever seen, but that's not important.

"It's ok." You say simply. 

Felix looks at you in confusion, sobs still wracking his body periodically even as he tries to hold them back. 

"Your feelings for Chan, they're ok." 

You can hear the small, confused noise Chan makes from his spot behind you but mostly you hear the loud whimper of Felix in front of you. 

"What? Are you joking? How are you ok with knowing your boyfriend has a crush on someone else. His best friend, as well. One of the people you're both closest to. And you're ok with that?" 

The points Felix is making aren't completely out there. But there's something that flares up in your chest, something amazing, when Chan and Felix interact so tenderly. Their normal banter is what you expect but when it's quieter or later they get softer and so do you when looking at them. 

"I am. I like that you two have an incredible dynamic completely separate with me. Of course, I love talking to you both as well. I can't explain it, but it's there. So yes, it's ok." 

Felix launches himself onto your lap and buries his face in your chest. You focus on him, nuzzling your nose in his hair and rubbing his back. To the point where you almost get lost in your own world completely. Of course, almost is the key word. 

Chan watches in envy as you both drift off into a comfortable affection and closeness. There was just a whole confession but he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t fit perfectly, not yet anyways. He wants to hold you like that, or Felix, or both. Maybe later, not today. Today he needs to go home and let you have a day to yourselves. 

Chan is off the bed before you can even speak and you and Felix look at him, puzzled. 

"Haha, um, I just don't to y'know intrude on your morning routine or anything. You don't need to get up I'll just go, yeah. We can talk more another time." 

Your deadpan look to Chan somehow increases as he says 'intrude' and you're sure Felix has pulled out his sad kitty look. 

"Chan. Bang Chan. Christopher Bang. Sit down." You order.

Felix laughs when he follows your order, almost dazedly, and sits back down to fiddle with his hands. 

"Can I kiss you? For real this time." You ask, Felix moves off your lap in anticipation.

Chan looks up at you with his jaw hanging down. He nods then closes his mouth and clears his throat.

"Yes. Please." 

You're half on his lap with your arms around his neck before he pulls you in. After a dizzying minute or so you pull away. 

Felix would be mad you got to kiss Chan with feelings first if it wasn't so damn attractive. When neither of you moves he whines and does grabby hands in that general direction. 

You move out of the way and watch as Chan goes to Felix without hesitation. Chan is wider and could probably cover Felix up entirely from the right angle. They're so soft. Chan's hands are barely touching Felix's waist and Felix's hands are moving up Chan's arms and shoulders. They’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning. When they pull away from each other your hands go to rest on each of their shoulders’ and you level Chan with a stern look. 

“Just listen until I’m done. No interrupting. Just listen.”

He has the presence of mind to just look slightly sheepish and nod.

“Me and Felix have been dating for a while but that will make you no less of a valued or important member of this relationship. If we’re going to do this then we all need to communicate our feelings to each other. So, Chan. If we ever, ever, make you feel left out in any way, you need to tell one of us. That goes for all of us in any situation.” 

You sit back but Felix catches you and pulls you into his side. Chan follows his lead and moves in front of you, putting his long arms to use and hugging both of you. You all sit in peace and adoration for a bit before stomachs begin to grumble a bit. Chan is the first to disentangle himself and the look of disbelief that crosses his face all over again is almost comical. 

"You're... This is ok?" 

You giggle at his still present disbelief. Hesitantly, you reach one hand towards him and he grabs it and moves toward you. While still making eye contact he gingerly presses his lips to the top of Felix's head. 

"It's real, Channie. I promise." You giggle then whisper.

Chan pulls his hand back and looks at both of his palms in shock. You give him a few moments then he reaches his arms back around both of you as best he can and buries his face in Felix's shoulder. 

"Thank you." He mumbles. 

"Three's a party, not a crowd for us.” You reply, leaning on Felix as well.

Felix is the glue that binds you two together, and the one that got you here in the first place. For not the first time and not the last, you're happy to have met him. 

[jishyucks]

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 !!

i.

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.

v.

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

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Four - Peril

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, drug use, Tig being Tig. The usual SOA shit. Sorry Donna..

She always saw the beauty in darkness. The lugubrious belle that came alongside the moon and stars and whatever else lurked amidst the murk of nighttime.

Isla was cliche in that sense.

She was cliche in the sense that she adored watching the sun set, swallowed by the mountains and high-rise buildings as the evening fell and Charming was painted black.

And maybe it was mostly melancholic because of the horrors that swathed that small town, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

She still liked to bask in the scenery, to discern the marvel of her home, from the highest point she could access. And, sometimes, she liked to take somebody along with her so she wasn't completely alone.

"Why'd you still come up here?" Ope asked, pulling himself onto the roof as she sat with her back to the wall--puffing on a cigarette.

"Because it's quiet." She was content, comfortable with her response. "And whenever I'm looking for Jax, or Gem, or my dad--or they're looking for me--this is where we're almost always found. Just people watching, or reminiscing, or having a few minutes to ourselves away from the chaos downstairs."

It wasn't an unknown safe space--Gemma had told her that JT and Clay would climb up there during the earliest days of the club--but it was special.

Jax, Opie, and Isla spent time up there as kids, too. Because they were bastards and were always running from their fathers--and den mother--and the roof of the clubhouse was their go-to.

She never really got out of that habit. She'd spend hours up there if she could, just watching as Charming bustled beneath her. And she liked that it was separate to the garage, but everyone knew where to find her if they needed her.

"It clears your head, being up here." She added. "I have got so much shit going on right now--between work, and my personal life--but coming up here is like a refreshment, I guess."

Opie understood what she meant because he was also seeking comfort in the night. Riding through dusk, spending time alone on his bike as he cruised the streets of his quaint town, relishing in the darkness because it was strangely comforting to him.

He liked to be alone. His thoughts were brutal and they seared his brain left and fucking right, but he liked his own company.

"Wish I thought about comin' up here when I was released from holding." The man chuckled, balancing a cigarette between his lips. "Stahl grilled the fuck outta me."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She really fuckin' did." He added, grunting as smoke blew from his nostrils. "Did she get you? I know she got Gemma."

"Nope, she didn't. I don't know why, though. She interrogated everyone else. Starting to feel a little left out."

Opie chuckled, smiling a bit. "Be glad. It's obvious that she's used to getting what she wants."

"And did you give it to her?"

"Fuck no." Isla smiled. Proud. "She can cross-examine me all she fuckin' wants—I'll never sell the club out."

"They know that, Ope."

"I know." Half confidently, he nodded. "Just—Stahl made me second guess it all, y'know?"

Nobody in Charming--aside from the PD--knew where that despicable bitch came from, and nobody cared to ask.

What they did know, though, was that she had her heart set on making that town a living fucking hell as she strived to eradicate the Sons of Anarchy by getting to its members.

She'd grilled everyone she could've. She cornered Gemma when she was out running errands, leaving the grocery store with a sour taste in her mouth when Teller told her where to fucking shove it.

Same went for Jax, and Clay, and Chibs, and Tig, and...Well, all of them told her to get fucked, actually.

None of them caved. None of them wanted to sell the club out because there was no reason to.

Well, there was a reason to, but no desire to.

There'd been murders. Three, to be specific. And one of them just happened to be a police officer--which was quite unlucky, but it wasn't awful.

They hated cops.

What they hated more, however, was the idea of getting caught by them. And Clay was. Somehow, anyway.

Piney's old "friend"--Nate Meineke--needed quality, albeit illegal, guns with no traceability to attack the convoy that was transporting one of his friends from point A to point B. And it went as swimmingly as possible...

Until June Stahl was put on the case and found that idiot's phone at the scene after dropping it mid-ambush.

Clay just happened to be the last person he had called. Which then caused the investigation to point toward Charming.

They all knew the Sons were guilty of supplying those weapons. Who else would it have been? They were known for running illegal firearms without batch numbers from a quaint Californian town whose name didn't quite fit its image.

It was blatant, though nobody gave it up.

But Stahl tried her damndest to get answers. And when she didn't, she targeted the member that she saw to be the most vulnerable--after a hit went wrong and he failed to cover his tracks--and Opie just happened to be that guy.

She questioned him for hours. She practically held the man captive in that little cell until he caved. But he didn't--and he wasn't going to, either.

He was loyal. That's one of the reasons why Jax wanted to patch him back in.

"Yeah, I know." Isla got to her feet when she heard Tig yelling for her downstairs. "But you're the strongest guy I know, Ope. I don't think Stahl, of all people, is gonna get to you."

He shrugged her off, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gravelly ground of the roof.

Opie had changed. Not much, and it wasn't very apparent, but he'd changed. Chino had changed him, she thought.

He was still dedicated to his club, still in love with the reaper and the responsibility that came with the patch--but Opie Winston lacked that flicker of enthusiasm now.

"How does your dad feel about you being back at the table?"

"Said he's proud of me."

He was a man of very, very few words. But the tone that he took--the sheer relief twined into contentment--spoke a greater volume.

Piney would always support his son, feel a sense of gratification from his involvement in the club. And, of course, Ope felt grateful to be back--but it was different now.

He'd served time for his club. Donna consistently argued that they sold him out and that he was fucking stupid for running back into the arms of SAMCRO.

But it was his brotherhood. The Sons of Anarchy were his family--his lifeline. He was nothing if not blessed to be patched back in.

"And I guess that wife of yours isn't too happy about it?"

"How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," she ignored that Tig was waiting for her, standing directly in front of him. "If she was genuinely thrilled about you being back here, she'd have been coming to Gemma's dinners, and spending more time at the clubhouse with us. But she isn't, and I'm starting to realize that she probably hates me now."

His head shook. "She doesn't hate you. It's just...It's just raw. Weird being back, I think."

"She didn't even have to leave. She knows that."

Donna did know that. But there was always something about Gemma. About the way she let things slide so often, how she felt that she had Clay so pussy whipped that he'd be at her every beck and call--but, really, that was redundant. Because Gemma let him get away with fucking murder.

Literally.

"Is she gonna be there tonight?

"Of course. She wouldn't miss Jax's son coming home." He got up, reaching for her hands. "Sorry that she's been so distant with you, Isla. But she's just been stressed out--money worries and the kids and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Donna wasn't traditionally a worrier. But five years worth of finances, being a single mom, and fretting over her husband potentially not making it out of prison alive, just did that to a woman.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so." Grateful for her offering, though recognizing how damn stubborn his wife was, he conceded. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And if you change your mind, or need me, you know where I am--"

"Isla!"

"He is getting on my last fucking nerve today." She groaned, flipping Tig off as she looked over the ledge. "I'm coming! Give me a minute!"

"I've given you plenty of minutes! Just get your ass down here!"

"Just go," Ope chuckled, leaning down to peck her cheek. "We can have this talk another time."

Isla turned back to him, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go 'n talk to him--I'll see you tonight."

He was such a nice guy. So considerate, kind.

She loved him a lot.

The flouncy sundress rose to the middle of her thighs as she sauntered through the clubhouse, hearing Trager talking--rather conspicuously, though slightly muffled--to somebody on his cell.

"C'mon, Tiggy. Why'd you yell at me?"

He waved his hand to shut her up, gesturing for the blonde to follow him out of the clubhouse and toward his bike.

"Yeah, cool. K, brother--see 'ya later. Bye." He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his cut, swiveling to face Isla with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The party?" Tig told her, watching confusion sweep over her face. "I'm taking you over 'cuz you want a drink and don't wanna drive home after? And that you're probably gonna end up heading home with Juice, or something--"

"Juice?"

"It always happens," he shrugged, pointing at the helmet he set out for her at the back of his bike. "We all head out, you get too drunk, you take a liking to Juicy, and you try to ride his dick."

"What?" Isla got herself situated behind him as he got on first, her arms wound around his waist. "That was one time. I've only slept with him once, and I told you it'd never happen again."

"And why is that?"

Her cheeks flushed red, the engine revving sending vibrations through her entire frame.

"Because he was too gentle." Tig's foot collided with the kickstand.

"And the little Catholic girl likes it rough."

She felt the solid gold crucifix burning a hole into her chest.

"Yes. I like it rough." He groaned, leaning into her. She swatted at his chest over his shoulder, laughing heartily. "Just take me to see the baby, dickhead."

The bike sped out of the lot and Isla was loving the thrill of being on two wheels. She'd always liked being stuck to the back of somebody's Harley--but she'd never own one herself.

Isla was like Gemma. She felt stable enough riding with somebody, but riding alone--being in control of the motorcycle--was fucking terrifying.

Jax and Opie had encouraged her to take a ride at one point, but it didn't end very well, and Chibs spent the best part of two hours trying to stitch his daughter back up whilst Gemma castigated the two imbeciles who thought it was even reminiscent of a good idea.

Weaving through traffic gracefully, freely, was appealing to her, however. But she wouldn't be caught dead--alone--on a fucking bike.

Plus, she quite enjoyed being taken places. Escorted by a member of the club. It was safe.

The wind whirred and whipped around them, and she wished she didn't make the effort with her hair tonight. It was ruined, tousled to within an inch of its life, and she dreaded the thought of having to brush the knots out in Jax's bathroom.

Still, commuting via Harley was a hell of a lot quicker and had a few more benefits than commuting via car.

But the looks that they got were piercing. Horrible. Mainly from Hale stationed beside his squad car, watching as Isla and Tig raced down the freeway.

"He likes you." He spoke over the roaring engine when he hit the first stop light all night. "He hates that you've never given him a chance--"

"He's a cop, and I'm the outlaw's daughter. I've been raised to hate his kind."

Tig nodded his approval, setting off once again when the light switched to green and all opposing traffic stood still.

At one strange point in time, David Hale had his sights set on Isla Telford. He was in love with her. Completely besotted.

And she never gave him a second glance because, for one, she wasn't interested. He hated that she was so close to Jax and Opie, but not him, and he wished that she'd push herself away from the bad guys to grow closer to the heroic law-enforcer.

But he was a control freak above everything else, and Isla was just a free-spirit. She was loyal to her friends and family but she didn't want to get tied down, and she didn't want to become friendly with a fucking cop.

The only cop she liked was crooked. And Unser was in a similar spot to her--a little too affiliated with SAMCRO, but not completely doted on. Though, they were both strangely essential fixtures, and Clay would've been lost without them.

"Juice is here." Tig taunted as he helped her off the bike, holding her hand when she stumbled over herself a little. "Try to keep those panties on."

"Can't make any promises, Tiger." Her growl was seductive, though he knew that she was fucking with him.

She'd given up rebuking his claims, instead feeding into them because, with Trager, she couldn't seem to win. He was sleazy, and she loved that back and forth.

What she loved more, though, was that he was comfortable. He was a strange man, and nobody really understood just where he came from, but Isla liked that she could make jokes of any kind around him. He was easy to get along with. Easy to love.

And, man, did she love Alex Trager.

"If you do fuck him, though, would you make a video?"

Isla stepped into Jax's front room, turning on her heels. "Who said that we haven't already got one?"

She chuckled and wandered into the party, leaving Tig with a few convoluted thoughts and even more raunchy questions.

"Fuck. Gemma taught her well." He grumbled under his breath, reaching for the beer in Half-Sack's hand.

He slumped on the couch, motioning for his usual lay to sit in his lap as he watched Juice fawn over his little blonde friend making conversation with some other random woman already.

"Yeah, totally..." she agreed with whatever the girl was saying, but her eyes were glued on Tara. Just floating around the party.

She felt bad that the doctor was alone. Despite all that she thought of her, being out of ones depth in such an intimidating setting wasn't very nice. And Isla was an empath.

"D'ya think anyone 'round here has any nail glue?"

"Gemma might." She smiled, pointing toward the kitchen.

Grateful that she managed to shake that one off, Isla weaved through the small conclave and sat beside Tara, offering a friendly face during a time of such discomfiture.

Her heart was aching, the sheer nervousness was palpable, and she knew that Tara felt the same way too.

But Isla just sucked it up. Because she wanted to talk to her, and had to be the one to initiate it.

"Thanks for coming." Her smile was wide, genuine.

She offered a beer to the brunette, hoping that she'd take it.

"Thanks for asking me here." Tara accepted it, glad that Isla remembered she wasn't particularly a wine girl like herself.

Christ. This is awkward.

"Trust me, you were the first person I asked to come tonight."

"How so?"

"Well," a little bit more comfortably, she faced her completely, "you've literally nursed Abel back to health. You've been there every step of the way. You've been the best surgeon. And, as much as I hate to say it, you helped Wendy so much, Tara. I'm really thankful for all that you've done for this family."

"It's my job." She tried to brush the comments off, but her heart definitely fluttered at the praise.

Isla never changed. She was still the sweetest soul, she thought.

"I know, but you've had it rough with this lot--with Gemma, I mean."

"She isn't anything I can't handle." Confidently, she asserted.

"I know, and I'm glad that you're able to stand your ground." Reluctant, a hand landed against Tara's palm.

She jolted a little bit, but softened into the embrace.

It was comfy, warm. Prosperous, perhaps, because it meant something. Tara not jerking away and leaving once Isla offered a friendly embrace, was promising.

They spoke about the baby for a little while, and shared a few laughs at Tig's expense. It was strange, really. To be talking to her ex-best friend was strange, but she'd missed it.

Donna joined the mix, too, and it was starting to feel like old times. Isla recognized that they'd never slip back into that routine, the dedication to one another that they'd known when they were kids--but it was nice.

The conversation stuttered and it wasn't able to flow as freely as what she might've liked, but it was a start.

To know that she had something resembling an acquaintanceship with two women she admired, was nice.

And Jax introducing his baby to his brand new home, to his extended family that were already so fucking dedicated to him, was just the most wonderful thing ever.

"What about a beer?" Clay joked, holding the bottle close to Abel. Jax laughed, though he shook his hand away. "What? Grandpa can't give him his first beer?"

"No, he can't."

"I'll take it, though. If you're offerin'." Chibs grabbed the Budweiser and twisted the cap with the leather grip of his glove.

He gestured to Isla, tipping it toward her. "Want some?"

"No, you're alright." She went back to her wine, smiling at that little bundle of happiness in Jax's arms, wondering how the hell he'd gotten to be in this position now.

But it was because of Tara. Her commitment, her talent, and sheer want to help that angel through the roughest patch that a baby could have possibly been thrust into.

How Gemma could still loathe that girl--after everything she did--was beyond her completely.

Tara was the unlikeliest hero in Abel's story.

"Why is it that every time I see you, your highlights get more chunky?" Gemma smiled at the comment, turning to see her favorite girl, flaunting the most beautiful smile.

She handed Isla the bottle of whatever wine Chibs could get this evening, unable to quit beaming at the thought of her grandson finally being at home. Where he belonged.

"I told you I'd do them for you, Gem."

"I know," she nodded, playing with a few strands of hair, "I was gonna ask you, but you've been a little distant this week--didn't wanna add to your workload, baby."

"That's super considerate of you. Are you alright?" Isla teased, holding a hand to Gemma's forehead.

She slapped it away with a laugh. "Fuck you. I'm always considerate."

"Sure you are. That's why Wendy is here, right?"

"No," her head shook, "she's here 'cuz this is her house. If I had it my way, she'd be out on her ass faster than what you could even say 'crank whore.'"

Isla wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, tipping her head toward the blonde in the living room.

"I thought you made sure she was gonna be here tonight?" Confused, she quizzed.

She was under the impression that Wendy was starting to grow on her. After she'd tried to kill her, of course.

"I did," Gem confirmed. "But only because I knew it'd be awkward between her and Tara."

Amazed, or maybe fucking horrified, Isla simply glared at her.

It should've been obvious to her--plain as day--that Gemma Teller doing a good thing was simply a bullshit facade, built in order to take away from the fact she wanted to do an inherently bad thing.

But Isla liked to see the good in people, so it wasn't. And that really was one of her mot fatal flaws.

"She thanked me for letting her stay, too."

"And what'd you say to her?" Almost as if she didn't want to know the answer, she asked.

Black nails danced along the rim of her wine glass as she leaned against the counter, watching everybody enjoy themselves as they bitched and moaned.

"That she's lucky to be alive."

"Jesus, Gem," her head shook disparagingly, disappointed perhaps.

But being surprised that the woman made a threatening comment toward Wendy, was just as stupid as being surprised at Tig for fucking another hooker during his free time.

"You've gotta keep her close, ma. She's the mother of your grandson, the woman your son did love at one point."

Ma. The word rolled off her tongue unintentionally most of the time, but she didn't hate it.

Gemma was the mother figure in her life--hell, she was the mother figure in a few of the Sons' lives--and it didn't feel weird using that around her. It was affectionate. She adored it.

"Jax never loved her," matter of fact, she retorted. "They got drunk together. They smoked dope together. They didn't love one another--"

"They got married." Isla reminded her. "They have a kid together. They have a lot of history."

"Just because they have history, doesn't mean they love one another. You've got history with him."

Her chuckle was throaty, almost a full-on splutter. "We have not got that same history--we're friends, Gem, you know that's different."

She supposed the blonde was right.

There was hell of a contrast between friends for life and friends with benefits--and Gemma knew that. She just didn't like that Jax gravitated toward Wendy when he'd always had Isla right there in front of him.

Though, she was more than aware that the pair didn't look at each other that way--she still lauded the thought of the two together.

"I still hate her."

"I know," Isla laughed at Gemma's irritability, sipping on her wine, enjoying the sight of everybody having a damn good time.

"She's checking into rehab, too."

"Really? Where?"

"Some place in Oakland, I think." Gemma added, smiling at Clay when he wandered over to the pair. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"You think she's gonna stick to it?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya." He answered for his wife, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Isla's cheek. "She's determined though, I'll give her that."

"Yeah?" His nod was optimistic--strange for Clay Morrow. "Well, I'm glad she's working on herself, anyway. She's got potential."

"You hate her."

"I know." She didn't refute the assertion. "But I'm still happy for her."

At least somebody is.

She wasn't lying. Wendy was a good girl, a woman tortured for no good reason. And she felt for her, she really did.

It'd been a shock, finding out that she was pregnant. But it wasn't like they weren't expecting it--what with the rate she and Jax were going at it.

From the start, Isla and Gemma were worried. She was notorious for her crank habit and the girls thought she was going to kill herself before she had the chance to see her son into the world.

And that almost happened, didn't it?

The doctors at St. Thomas were fucking miracle workers--Isla was on pins and needles waiting for a call to say that Wendy and Abel were okay.

But she tried not to dwell on that, now. They were both as healthy and Abel was as happy as he could've been, so Isla was content. She wasn't pleased, but she was comfortable with the way that things were going.

Tara, however.

"No!" She yelled, backing out of the nursery. "No, fuck you, Jax."

Juice stumbled backward when she nudged him out of the way, pulling her purse from the kitchen counter.

Isla and Gemma couldn't not stare.

"Tara, c'mon!" Jax called after her, but it was too late.

The front door had been slammed shut and the party came to a complete standstill. A thickening tension was shrouding the group, and things were only just starting to simmer.

"What was that all about?" The blonde asked Juice, leaning against the island.

She didn't want to prove Tig to be right but, after a few glasses of wine, Juan Carlos Ortiz was starting to pique her interests.

He swallowed thickly, watching Clay leave the room. "He said something about Wendy--wanting to keep whatever it is that he and Tara have going on the down low so it doesn't set her off, or something."

Makes sense.

"He has a point. She's doing really well lately." He continued. "Jax would hate to stunt her progress by shoving his relationship with Tara in her face."

Isla was rattled.

Jax hadn't talked to her in days, and she wasn't aware that so much had changed. She wasn't aware that he had established a relationship with Tara Knowles.

Again.

You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another.

She was too irritated to reside in that same room as Gemma, now. Knowing the conversation she'd initiate the second that Juice left was too fucking much. So she left first, instead.

The living room was almost empty. Just Clay, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs sat around the couches as Donna, the kids, and Ope were preparing to set off.

Everything was annoying her, now. She hadn't made the effort with Donna all night, but she was pissed that she hadn't started to say goodbye to her yet.

Isla was so fucking irritated that she didn't even want to talk to Tig, or her father. So she didn't.

"Where're you going, petal?" Chibs asked, hindering her plan to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the night. He knew that she'd crack a smile at the nickname.

"I was just wandering. Not really sure what to do with myself."

"Come sit down," he gestured to the space between himself and Tig, and wound an arm around her when she met the leather. "I've missed 'ya."

"Tonight? Or just in general."

"In general. It's been a few days, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." Her head rested against his Sgt. At Arms patch, and she sighed. "Work has been so fucking busy and I feel like I haven't gotten a moment to myself this week."

Isla only worked a part-time gig at some shitty salon just on the outskirts of Charming--edging into Stockton--but she hated her job.

She hated driving into the city every morning and evening, wasting a fuck ton of her paycheck on gas when, really, there was no point.

She hated her cunt boss.

Hated her cunt clients.

She hated that nobody really spoke to her because of who her father was. And when they did speak to her, it was almost like they were scared. Of Isla.

Gemma had always promised her that there was a space at the auto shop for her had she needed it, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to answer to Gemma and Clay every single day.

Well, more than what she already was, anyway.

"Who'd 'a thought that being a hairdresser was so demanding?"

"Me, apparently." She joked, watching Tig get up and leave the room.

It'd turned somber. A little too bleak for her liking, but she guessed that everyone felt a bit awkward after Tara stamped out and Jax sat on his porch. Alone. With a bottle of whiskey.

She hated the hold that woman had over him sometimes. The way he was so fucking devoted to Tara Knowles that she could literally slap him, scream in his face, and ruin his son's homecoming party--and he would still pine for her.

She'd never understand that.

And she didn't understand how such a lively bunch of individuals had mellowed out over the course of two hours, either.

The party had disappeared. Dissipated into nothing and the atmosphere she once lauded was completely dead in the water.

It was fucking grim, and she couldn't wait to head home.

"Can I come with you tonight?"

"Why'd you even ask? Y'know you're welcome to come home with your old man whenever you want." Chibs told her a little bit stern, though it was essentially full of love.

She just smiled up at him, a bit buzzed. But she was having a good-ish time and who was he to chastise her for drinking a little too much tonight?

"Wanna head off now?"

"Yeah--lemme just say 'bye' to Gemma."

"Alright, I'll be out front. Don't forget your purse." He reminded, knowing she was too ditsy for her own good.

Chibs helped her to her feet, letting go of her hand only to part ways for a few moments.

Her mood was perking up, now. The prospect of being able to spend a few hours with her dad after a long fucking day, was just the best.

And she'd really missed him. Missed the time they once had an abundance of. Missed the evenings that they'd spend talking, drinking, watching movies, doing the generic father daughter activities.

They hadn't had that for a while, and it was truly a blessing that it was within reach tonight.

Well. It was within reach for all of five minutes.

"Oh my God--" Gemma's cell slipped from between black nails and bounced across the table. Saturated hues were locked on Isla, and her head shook.

"What?"

"There's--there's been an accident." She managed to muster out. "Or, maybe a drive-by, I don't know, but Donna--"

"Donna?" Piney's attention was snatched at the mention of his daughter-in-law. He stood up. "What about her?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Gemma was going to say because it was just the usual now, wasn't it?

Being affiliated with SAMCRO just did that to somebody. Man, woman, child. They didn't fucking care.

"She's--Piney, she's dead."

[littleoddwriter]

Naughty | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader | Smut

"And last but not least 10, Roman/black mask x male reader (nsf/w again cuz we be horny). I don't have a super specific scenario for this, but it could either be reader genuinely doesn't know who they're talking to and Roman decided to teach them a lesson

Or reader knows *exactly* who they are talking to but is fishing for punishment/a lesson/just being a brat. You're welcome to decide what the lesson is (ideas include idk man spanking, orgasm delay/denial, public (am I thinking of an opposite to the other horny fic we came up with? where reader is not a good boy? maybe,,,,), whatever you want really lol)" @iscariot-rising​

summary; You’re in a mood and seek punishment from Roman to get out of your head for a bit. 

notes; KINKS: Daddy!Kink; Spanking; Sexual Punishment; Consensual, but neither safe nor sane tbh; Coming basically untouched; Slight exhibitionism. Male!Reader; PWP; Lemon; Smut; Using sexual punishment to stop feeling bad/thinking.

Having woken up after an awful night and feeling your mood decline with every thought that tumbled through your brain, you were feeling that need for Roman to put you in your place and make you lose every train of thought possible. Usually a good punishment would get you out of your head and that weird mood, because no doubt it would only get progressively worse the more you dwelled on it. Roman wouldn't punish you if you asked for it, though. He wanted you to have earned it. Fine by you. You would make sure you've earned it, alright.

Roman was downstairs at the club, which wasn't even due to open for several more hours. So you went and joined him there, seeing to whatever he was doing.

When you reached downstairs, you saw a couple of his men mopping the floor. It smelled awfully like bleach. It assaulted your nose for a moment, as you scrunched your face up in reaction to it.

Side-stepping the working men, you went further into the club's area and saw Roman sitting in a booth with Zsasz, cackling about something. There was some blood on Victor's face. That would explain what they've been doing then, and possibly even what they were laughing about.

When Roman finally noticed you coming closer, he sobered up a little at first, then a wide grin spread on his face. It still had some sadistic, sinister touch to it, but for the most part it was charming, happy even.

"Look at you, baby! What are you doing down here, hm?" He exclaimed, still grinning, as Zsasz looked at you curiously.

You sat down next to Roman and playfully smiled up at him. "Oh, you know, I got a little bored all by myself and wanted to see what you were doing."

"Did you now? And haven't I told you not to come downstairs when I'm busy here outside of business hours, baby?" His tone already took on a dangerous edge; so going down here despite knowing you weren't allowed to did pay off. Good.

"Ah, well, I might have forgotten, sorry," you said, not sounding sorry at all.

Roman hummed, his grin slowly vanishing from his face.

"You know I don't like it when my orders aren't being followed," he rasped.

Shivering, you bit your lower lip and grinned cheekily.

"Didn't know that applied to me as well, Daddy."

"Hmmm, you're just being a little shit now, sweet boy, aren’t you? What is it?"

"I'm not! It's nothing, Daddy, I promise! What should it be?" You said, playing up the part of being completely oblivious.

"Do you just act stupid or are you really it?" He rasped.

By then, you knew he had caught on, probably even knowing that you did it on purpose; but his quick temper often got the better of him when you played your cards right. Like right now.

"Now, now, Daddy! That's rude, isn't it? But that's to be expected from you."

You knew that what you just said would make his blood boil, it might have hurt him a little, too, but you were willing to pay that price right now.

Clenching his fists, he fixed you with a fierce glare. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

"Of course I do, Daddy! But y'know, sometimes you really can be a little rude."

"Is that so? Do you hear that Zsasz?"

Zsasz nodded, "I think you should teach him a lesson, Boss."

You were sure that Victor wasn't talking about sexual punishment like you were aiming for, but rather peeling your mug off because he wanted Roman to himself.

"Yes, I believe you're right, I should. Would you be so kind and leave us alone then, Victor?" Roman said, looking at you intently.

Disappointment was clear in Victor's expression, but he got up without another word and left the two of you alone in the club, as the other staff had left by that point, too.

Roman nudged you, "C'mon, over my lap. Now."

Fucking finally!

Swallowing thickly, you shifted and leaned over his legs and laid face-down on his thighs, your chest and stomach pressing against them, while your ass was up for him to do whatever he liked with. He rubbed his gloved hand over your still clothed ass cheeks, seemingly admiring them.

"Count," was his only, huskily rasped, warning before he lifted his hand and let it come down on your right ass cheek, hard.

You yelped and moaned out a "One".

Then again. "Two."

Again. It felt harder. "Three."

This continued on until you reached spank number ten.

Because then, he reached under you and unbuttoned your pants, sliding them down your hips, over your straining erection, and over your butt, situating them right where thighs met cheeks. Your bottom already felt so fucking raw. Roman's spankings were always forceful. As much as he looked like he never lifted a finger on his own, he actually worked out, and it showed in his strength.

You've been hard and aching for the past three spanks already and you didn't know how many he's planned for you to receive. You might come practically untouched, depending on it, because your cock kept rubbing against the cushion beneath you and his thigh. It was driving you crazy before, when you were still clothed, and now, with your dick bared, it would only be so much worse.

All those thoughts were ripped from your mind, as his leather-clad hand came back down on your bare rump again, alternating between the left and right cheek and where he hit. It was relentless.

By the twenty-fith spank, your counting was barely intelligible anymore, as it was caught between shouts, moans and dry sobs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you figured that his hand must have gone numb by that point, but he kept spanking you. You could feel his hard cock against your stomach, though. So as unaffected as he seemed by all of this, he wasn't it entirely.

At the fiftieth hit, you couldn't control yourself anymore and came all over his thigh and the booth's cushions, sobbing and moaning pitifully, as tears streamed down your red face.

He stopped for a moment, rubbing over your cheeks soothingly, although it only made them burn more.

"Tell Daddy how sorry you are for disrespecting him and for coming unprompted all over him. C'mon," he rasped, his voice even deeper than before.

It took you a moment to even register what he's said. You blinked rapidly, trying to come back to the now. You felt so floaty.

"Sorry, Daddy." It was a quiet, unintelligible mumble.

"I didn't quite hear you there, sweet cheeks. Try again." To underline what he just said, he spanked you twice on each cheek again.

Obediently, you slurred the numbers. He paused again.

"Daddy, I- I'm sorry. 'm so sorry," you mumbled a little louder, your voice shaking.

"'Kay then," he whispered.

Roman then lifted his hand off your ass and helped you to sit up. You were so out of it that you just barely registered the pain it caused to sit.

"Ew, you've made a fucking mess of my suit pants. Ugh," you could faintly hear him complain.

A moment later he had gotten up apparently, as you felt his arms around you. One around your back, under you arms and gripping onto your side, and the other one under your thighs. Then he lifted you up, bridal style.

"Let's get you upstairs and taken care of, my little prince."

Completely out of it, you smiled and pressed your wet, red face into his chest. Your plan had worked out to the best possible result. 

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

This chapter is very dialogue heavy. Stephen Strange being a little bit of a dick and Tony being a sweetheart. No warnings here, just plot and worldbuilding. I think Tony is his own warning to be honest... Do we want fun facts before each chapter like before or nah?

Sorcerer Strange stared at me with the heat of a plasma beam after I finished stuttering throughout my story, one accurate eyebrow raised and sharp cheekbones painting him displeased and dangerous in the yellow light of the store lamps. The whole experience shook me more than I would have liked to admit to myself and his mute reaction wasn't helping matters at all.

"Hmph," he finally cleared his throat, taking a step back and casting a thoughtful look over the shelves in the store. "You did all you could. Perhaps, we owe you gratitude," his tone was far kinder than his face. "How long have you been doing... This?" He vaguely gestured with a gloved hand.

"Long enough," I replied without thinking. My stress levels urgently rose above acceptable and the feelings needed to be let out now; Wong's dismissive attitude and Strange's half-assed apology for the attitude was still fresh in my mind.

The sorcerer sighed, briefly touching the bridge of his nose. "I won't pretend to understand the reason for your hostility but I'd like to remind you we're on the same side here," his steely blue eyes attempted to peer into my soul.

"There are no sides here," whatever he was selling, I wasn't buying it. "There are just people who get hurt, either because of unstable maniacs with superpowers or aliens who think Earth is an all-you-can-kill buffet," I stuck my dirty, bloody hands in my pockets. "You do your part in mitigating the damage, I do mine. That's all there is."

"And you would be making my job expotentionally harder if you get in the way and slow down professionals, even if you mean well," the man's temper had, evidently, won over and he immediately got on the defensive, crossing his arms and trying to glare me down.

Odette's words rang true, starting a storm of hollow anger in the pit of my skull. "Now listen here, you privileged prick," the damn burst at the seams as I squared up to give him a piece of my mind. "You and your Hogwarts rejects and the merry band of billionaires may have the opportunity to 24/7 healthcare and near-instant compensation for any damages the villain of the week decides to bestow upon your shallow little heads," I advanced half a step towards Strange, hands bailed into tight fists, internally rejoicing at the way he leaned back. My blood sang with adrenaline as I breathed the exhilaration.

"But how many people do you overlook? How many children never make it because your super secret organisation gives their parents an ultimatum just because they are different? This is a safe space for the ones you pretend not to see until it's convenient and it will stay that way, over my fucking dead body, if need be," I stared at the tall man, almost physically feeling his brain halt and pause with the cartoony sound of screeching tires. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.

A pregnant pause hung in the air, both of us waiting for the other to explode.

"Don't you think I am aware," Strange finally seethed through gritted teeth, alarming golden sparks shining in his eyes. "The Avengers are not under the rule of SHIELD and I, personally, have no affiliation with either. I do not condone their barbaric methods," the man was struggling to form his sentences properly but even despite that, I understood his ideas.

I desperately wanted to believe his words to be true, I really did, but... "Then do your fucking job and let me do mine. I do not go out there and intervene, I merely clean up the mess you all leave. Something that nobody wants to do do, so unless you've got any takers, I'll keep helping those you deem unfit," in a fit of muted rage, I flew my arm to point at the abandoned cars and destroyed concrete outside of the window, the empty street and the clouds of dust rising into the moody skies.

The entrance door flew open suddenly, with a force strong enough to bang the heavy, old handle against something outside, letting in the stuffy air inside the bodega. Strange jumped at the sound of the screaming hinges, my own heart skipping a beat from the startling interruption.

Visibly composing himself, the man pierced me with a final stare before starting a dangerously quiet, "Very well, goodbye," and hightailing it out of Odette's before disappearing in a golden circle just outside the front porch.

I let my shoulders sag for a brief moment of respite, feeling the tension bleed out of me and penetrate every nook and cranny in the room. My protection charms were mostly destroyed, silver dull, glass and amber crackled. Tossing them into the appropriate recycling bin, I set to clean up the shop, flying through the motions in record time and wandering home through the damaged streets on autopilot.

My anger had cost me more than a fortune in my past but no matter how much I sought to reason with myself, I couldn't bring it to justify Strange's attitude towards my choices. The more I thought about it, the less rational my guesses became; I forced myself to stop thinking about it when my brain had unhelpfully supplied an absurd notion of him being jealous of my lifestyle: he knew next to nothing of my skills and his opinion was based solely on seeing me work the store front and one cleansing spell I'd performed on Bucky. There was simply no rational explanation for his behaviour.

NYC life wasn't affected by the battle in the slightest, it seemed; a day and a half later, I was back at Jeremy's, serving overpriced hot beverages to the rich and the busy. I'd slept on the Bucky and Strange situation, got a handle on my feelings and decided to simply put it away. There were other, more pressing things to worry about than a couple of men.

I didn't expect the flood of anxiety that turned my hands to lead upon seeing Tony Stark's signature suit-and-sunglasses wearing ass waltz into the café. He flashed me his usual easy grin but didn't remove his glasses, eyes eerily blank behind them, as he motioned for his usual order before leaning on the countertop with the entirety of his upper body. "So, Starshine, what is it exactly that you do?" Came the question I was dreading. "Are you, like, a witch? The broomstick and cauldron kind?"

"Mr. Stark, I am serving you coffee and a muffin as we speak," I replied curtly, raising an eyebrow.

"Drop the act, honeybuns. I thought we were friends," if I squinted, I could see that he was genuinely hurt by my lack of desire to communicate. Or, perhaps, he simply was unused to not satisfying his curiosities immediately.

Either way, I stood no chance against Stark patented puppy eyes. "I clock out at two," a sigh of epic magnitude left my mouth against my will. "You can interrogate me then. Until that, it's lattes and cheesecakes only."

Tony narrowed his eyes, smile warming up by a smidgen. "Interrogate you? Never," he pocketed the napkin with Dr. Banner's scribbles the doc had forgotten last time. "I'm merely curious." Another flash of his teeth and he was gone, taking what little peace I had left along with him.

The hands on the clock made their hurried rounds over and over. My chest had grown it's own set of ticking, grinding, mismatched gears as the endless possibilities coursed a steady stream through my head. Tony Stark was a wild card, his struggles with authority a widely known fact, as frequent as his strange habits in just about anything. And while I doubted I would get ambushed and locked up, I had no qualms of him berating me for telling off his boyfriend. He seemed like the possessive, overprotective type, anyways.

As soon as I exited the café, surrounded by the smells of flour and coffee grounds, my eyes immediately landed on the shiny, brand new Audi illegally parked right in front of the establishment, it's owner leisurely leaning against the hood with a face of contented boredom as passerby pedestrians shamelessly ogled him and his ride. His face lit up as he noticed me, immediately rushing to hold the passenger side door open for my comfort. "M'lady," the dorky remark didn't fail to summon a smile to my face even if it was a weak shadow of my usual camaraderie.

"Mr. Stark," I greeted him as soon as he peeled off the crowded sidewalk.

The lack of joy on my face didn't go unnoticed by him and every now and then, he snuck a glance at my face. "Relax, Starshine, I won't bite."

"Well," I mumbled, remembering the vicious way I had torn into his boyfriend. "Good to know."

Seeing as that didn't do much for my nerves, he suddenly swerved right, rushing into a busy intersection with the ease of a practiced manic driver. "I'm feeling like a cheeseburger," he announced unceremoniously, pulling into a parking lot of some place I never noticed.

I doubted that I could swallow anything at all but relented, sitting down opposite him in the furthest booth from the entrance. I ordered the biggest milkshake they had as Tony grinned big at the waitress, finally taking off his sunglasses when she left for the kitchen.

I rested my elbows on the table under the scrutiny of his gaze. He kept quiet. I couldn't hold back my curiosity any more. "So?"

His sharp, clever brown eyes captured and held mine for the longest second in my life. I struggled not to break eye contact until he relented, focusing on the shine of my rings instead. "RoboCop almost died from the shit that happened to him," Tony's words were curt. I inhaled sharply, assuming he was talking about Barnes. The engineer's fingers began to fiddle with his glasses. "We couldn't figure out how you helped him. Not the medical, not Banner, not me and and not even Steph," he paused to run a hand through his hair. "Barnes was hit with a poisoned arrow. There were no toxins left in his body, not even a single inflammation marker showed up on the tests." With that, Tony expectantly turned to me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Magic," I simply answered, figuring Strange had already briefed him about my occupation.

Tony shook his head with a snort. "Magic that the Sorcerer Supreme doesn't recognize or cannot detect?" The question was saved in nature.

Stephen Strange was Sorcerer Supreme and I had pissed him off and remained alive. I couldn't believe my luck, if Odette's stories were anything to go by. Inwardly rejoicing, I nonetheless resigned to answer truthfully. "Because there is nothing to detect, no foreign energy," I tried to phrase it in a way a scientist could understand. "What I use to heal, it is given me by nature and willingly. Think of me as a... Conductor. I merely store the energy short-term and direct it where it is needed."

That sparked a visible interest in Tony. He leaned forward, running my whole form, over and over, with his sharp eyes, searching for something I knew he wouldn't find. "Like... Making a blood transfusion?" It was obvious that he was thinking hard about the subject. "Like a successful organ transplant?"

"Something like that," I agreed amicably, seeing as he was talking at himself rather than engaging in a conversation with me.

"But it doesn't come from nothing, the first law of thermodynamics..." He started off in slight confusion.

"Yes, the total amount of energy remains constant," I interrupted him, making his eyes widen. "It's all around us, Mr. Stark. You cannot see it, and most people even cannot feel it, but mother Earth supports her creations. More than we like to think," the corner of my mouth tilted upward at the memories. Working with Gaia directly was like being briefly submersed in a cocoon of pure, warm sunshine; like being held in mother's arms as a babe. "She is kind and she is merciful, especially to the ones whose suffering is unjust," I let the man mull over my words.

The waitress brought our orders; my throat was parched, I took a few haste gulps of the chocolate milkshake. Tony's burger, however, remained unnoticed and untouched.

"Earth is a sentient organism?"

The question made my eyebrows rise; I coughed slightly, meeting his confused eyes with a smirk. "Mr. Stark, keep your science headcanons to yourself," the banter came easily now that the status quo was established.

He rolled his eyes, fitfully resisting the smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm telling on you to Mean Green," there was no malice behind his words.

I doubted the shy scientist would do much more than stutter out two jumbled questions but let the topic slide in favour of closing up on the issue. "Would you call a wolf sentient? No," I shook my head. "But it is autonomous, it has free will. Think of it like that," I wasn't really up to par on explaining Tony all the ins and outs of my craft. The more I spoke, the more questions danced in his eyes. It was charming but not something I wanted to spend most of my day on.

"I won't pretend to be anything but sceptical but as it is, I happen to be dating a wizard," the engineer finally chortled, making hands for his burger. He made a vague gesture with his fork, expression still not-quite out of the thinking place.

"They say opposites attract," I shrugged.

"Romanoff keeps saying we're two sides of the same coin, so," he non-commitally shrugged in return. "Can't help but wonder what the fuck did you tell him that day. He was seething," Tony raised an eyebrow, tone teasing.

"Oh lord," I briefly palmed my face. "Here comes the shovel talk."

"No, no," a fry landed on the table in front of me. I snatched it right from under Tony's hand. He pouted. "He probably deserved it. I mean, you saved the Terminator and, honestly," he paused. "I heard about one third of his rant and I distinctly remember something about 'girls way over their heads' and whatnot," he did a poor imitation of his boyfriend's deep voice. "Now, I consider myself a feminist so, respectfully, I disagree," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

I blanked, trying to process the avalanche of information. "That's a lot to unpack," I acquiesced.

"It means he likes you. I would know," the man had the audacity to wink at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tony Stark.

"Are you hitting on me for your boyfriend?" I couldn't resist snarking back, briefly catching his eyes as I polished off my milkshake.

Tony looked at me through his thick, long lashes, a picture perfect visage of surprised innocence. "Maybe," his tone a little too south of friendly, the direction of his eyes a bit lower than my face.

The snort escaped me before I could put a stop to it. The banter - it was easy, comforting in this situation where I found myself to be akin a fish out of water. Like I was a slightly socially awkward witch, Tony was a genius engineer and a notorious flirt. He toed the lines of appropriate with practiced gusto and I hadn't had the heart to do anything but indulge in a little bit of harmless fun ever since he first stepped foot in the café, seeing right through his stone cold facade of an alleged womaniser. Call it a hunch, if you will.

Say what you want about Tony Stark but one thing was definite: he was a gentleman. I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home in his expensive, fast, latest model car. As the city streets zoomed by in a flurry of blurred lines and flashing colorful lights, I allowed my mind to finally calm and resume it's usual even wandering pace.

A hand loosely thrown over the steering wheel, Tony quietly hummed along to the music, playing with the hem of his tee whenever it wasn't occupied with driving the car. He looked so peaceful like that.

The sound system played some contemporary rock that blended in with the moderately busy afternoon of the NYC streets, submerging the surroundings in catharsis. Grey everything with the occasional burst of colour from a traffic light; the brief car ride lulled me into a state almost drowsy.

"You with me, Salem?" Tony's voice quietly took me out of my stupor.

I blinked, seeing the front door of my apartment building. "Yeah, yeah, thanks," I didn't resist the big, wide smile of relief and rejoiced upon seeing his face return to his normal expression, sparkling and mischievous. "That's my stop," I motioned lamely.

Something hung in the air, something unsaid. It leaked through the gaps between Tony's smile and his eyes, it filled up the car with something thick and foggy. I was powerless to stop its influence on me; the daze remained just as it was when we zoomed through city streets.

Tony's fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I exited the vehicle, giving him a short wave before he put pedal to the metal, quickly disappearing into the twilight. I watched his tail lights glow red amongst the flat blacks and greys and beiges of my surroundings, blinking away the dryness in my eyes only when the car disappeared from my view completely.

My apartment was just as I'd left it, warm and slightly messy- but a new feeling had crawled up from the very gutter of me, foreign and impending. The walls didn't breathe the comfort I had hoped I would finally find: if anything, none of what I encountered on my rapid beeline towards the couch felt real.

I'd grown accustomed to the comforts of my solitude and routine, to attached to the simplest task of being. Sorting through my dirty laundry had never been a favourable ordeal for me, I'd much rather lived in a relatively wide bubble- rationally, I knew that sooner or later, change had have to come, but there was nothing ever rational about having feelings on one matter or another.

My spirit was trying to tell me big things were coming and I had no choice but to listen and let the currents of fate and happenstance snatch me up and take me whichever way they pleased.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

[voidstilesplease]

Attractions

Demigod AU Ficlet [3]

Stiles

"Stiles?"

Stiles turns around to the source of the call. He finds himself facing the new Ares camper. The boy gives him a tentative but wide, slanted smile, stepping closer. Stiles is not going to lie; the excessive gushing he hears from the Aphrodite cabin about the guy are well-founded. But he's not going to say that out loud. He replies, "Hey,"

"Chiron said to look for you," the boy tells him, looking far brighter and good-natured than what Stiles anticipates from an Ares kid speaking to a child of Athena.

"Give me a sec, will you?" At the boy's nod, Stiles rushes inside the cabin to retrieve the materials he prepared for their brief session today. He assigns one of his half-siblings to take over the cabin clean-up while he's out. When he returns outside, the Ares boy is standing patiently, hands in his pockets, watching the flurry of activities inside.

"Your cabin looks like a library," the boy comments when Stiles is near enough to hear. He doesn't sound mocking and what he said isn't in particular insulting, but Stiles gets defensive all the same. From his time at camp, he gets this automatic response to the Ares bunch.

"And yours look like," he pauses, and they both turn to look at cabin five right across from Athena. Its blood-red paint job is giving Stiles goosebumps. Not to mention the stuffed boar's head on the doorway with soulless eyes that seem to be following everyone's movements, and the ugly barbed wires on the roof. It's an angry-looking cabin that's very fitting to its aggressive and violent occupants. "-a nightmare."

Stiles expects the boy to sneer, but he gets a different reaction. The new Ares kid laughs. "You think it looks bad outside? It's absolute chaos inside." The boy turns to him, smiling cheekily. "You should come and visit sometimes."

Stiles stops short and takes a moment to consider the boy. He's never made an Ares kid laugh before, at least not that isn't derisive. They all think Stiles is stuck up even when he was only new to the camp. Only Fred, the head counselor, tolerates him, and he only does so because Stiles handed his ass to him in capture-the-flag last summer. His grudging respect is because he got beat by a rookie. Typical. This boy, though, doesn't seem to be corrupted - yet. It's only been a few days. Stiles replies with a serious, "I will," the boy's face lights up in return, probably mistaking it as Stiles flirting back. So he adds, "When it's my turn for cabin inspection. I give decent scores."

The quick shooting up of his eyebrows means he doesn't quite believe that.

But Stiles does. Last summer, he gave them 1/5. It would have been zero, but Fred had made an effort to upturn the bunk beds back in their upright position and shove all strewn underwear inside a box. He only hopes those were burned after and not distributed back to their owners. Stiles is a saint, considering.

He moves them forward, tracing the steps to the Big House. They walk side-by-side in surprisingly companionable silence for a moment, then Stiles begins introduction. "So, as your official welcome wagon, albeit a few days late," Stiles spreads his arms in an all-encompassing gesture. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood!"

The boy laughs a little and regards him with amusement. He looks pleasant, but it's disconcerting and just a tad suspicious. An Ares kid is not supposed to be a charmer, newcomer, or otherwise.

"My name is Stiles," he says, pausing in his tracks to politely offer his hand to the boy. "I'm Athena cabin's junior counselor."

The boy smiles and takes Stiles's hand in a firm grip. He mentally registers that the boy's hand is mildly calloused and only slightly bigger than his. And the boy's eyes are blue, like the sky and ocean on a fine day. 

"I'm Theo."

Theo is a nice name, too, his brain whispers kindly. Probably short for Theodore. Stiles knows another Theodore from his previous school. That Theodore is bland; this one is far from it. But he's not going to admit that out loud, either. 

Stiles clears his throat, breaking their contact. His mind runs on him sometimes (all the time); he hates when that happens. The last time it did, Stiles got humiliated by his crush in front of the others during combat training. What a fun memory. He really shouldn't be thinking about that right now. So he picks up his steps, and Theo follows dutifully, not losing the open expression.

"I'm supposed to give you a starter kit today: the camp's map, our camp brochure, and your study guide for our next sessions." Stiles holds up the book and papers on his other hand. "As much as I'd like to tour you around, we don't have that much time."

Stiles waves a hand to one of the Hermes kids, who's carrying a trunk-load of garbage for disposal. The boy smiles back brightly despite the strain on his face from the weight of the junk. Ever since day one, everyone from cabin eleven has been friendly to Stiles, most especially the head counselor, Kira. So, Stiles always makes a way to return their kindness.

He shifts back to Theo to find him observing the interaction with attention. It's not malicious, though, which still baffles Stiles. He didn't know there could be nice ones from his cabin. 

He continues as they near the Big House. "There's a meeting with Chiron and the cabins' head counselors in an hour. Haley, our head, went with Demeter and Dionysus' cabin leaders to Manhattan to deliver strawberries. You know, the camp's source of funds? You'll see that in the brochure," he says, raising the object in question. "I'll have to attend as a proxy."

They arrive at the porch, and Stiles motions for Theo to sit on a bench. He passes the materials to him, "I'll let you check these, and if you have questions, you can ask me."

Theo shuffles the papers absently before lifting his head, "I do."

Stiles is pretty sure he hasn't read a thing yet, but he gestures for him to proceed.

"How did you manage it?" He asks, a genuinely curious look on his face. "You're here for one summer, but you're already second-in-command."

Stiles searches his face and tone for ridicule. He doesn't find it, still suspects it, so he schools his expression to its neutral - not friendly, but also not dismissive. It's a sensible question, anyway. It's not every day that he gets one from an Ares child. "It's not all about tenure here at camp," he starts, gauging.

Theo leans forward to indicate he's listening.

Stiles takes a seat adjacent to his position. If this kid is civil to him, there's no reason not to act the same - even if Stiles still thinks their cabin is the worst. "The eldest or the longest camper automatically gets the head counselor post, and they assign their seconds. Usually, they pick from the next eldest campers, but they can also base on achievements disregarding age or length of stay."

Theo inclines his head, eyes level on Stiles. "Achievements?"

"Yes. Like winning in the camp's games, or successfully returning from a quest."

His eyes flash in thought, and it is with revere when he says, "And you did both."

Stiles blushes embarrassingly. He tries to mask it by ducking his head and rubbing at his cheeks. Stiles is suddenly self-conscious when he is usually gloating. Stiles never passes up an opportunity to rub it in an Ares kid's face how he's defeated them in capture-the-flag like he's born for it.

When Stiles looks up again, the boy is smirking at him, blue eyes darting around his face in a thorough examination. Stiles's guard kicks in again, feeling measured. 

He straightens in his perch, lifting his chin haughtily. "Yes," he makes sure that his tone is sharp. "I led my team to victory against yours. If you have any doubt to the legitimacy of that claim, you can remind Fred how he uselessly hung upside-down like a wet market chicken while I plucked the flag from his hands."

Stiles waits for the offended snarl and stream of profanities, but once again, he's knocked off his careful balance. Theo's face splits in a wide grin, and he laughs. "So, that's why he doesn't share details, the loser."

Stiles goggles, starting to feel annoyed by the unusual behavior. "Aren't you going to mock me and defend his honor?"

Theo snorts, "What honor?" He snickers for a few more and then puts his attention to the reading materials when he recovers.

Stiles finds the situation peculiar, so he stays quiet and allows Theo to read, answering when he has more questions and volunteering information that isn't in print.

Later, when they adjourn, he prepares to leave when Theo leans to tell him, "I'm not like my siblings. I don't hate clever people." He pauses, and with an easy grin, adds: "Fred might even be right. I think I'm attracted to one of them."

He doesn't wait for Stiles's reply - not that Stiles has one to that statement. He only stands there, taken aback, and red as a startled tomato.

Theo, finally displaying the familiar audacity comparable to his kins, winks. "I'll see you later, Stiles."

And well, it's impossible not to notice him everywhere now.

~•~

[1][2][companion]

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Serendipity (C.B) | Chapter 13

Summary: Serendipity: (n) the chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way

Popular youtuber Isabella Hart, known as Bella to her audience, bends over backwards to separate her youtube life from her private life. Known for her overall clean content and her bubbly attitude, Isabella has a wild side to her that only those inside the youtube community know about. When Bella meets Colby during one of the trap house parties she finally meets someone she can be her genuine self with. When trouble arises after their meeting, will Bella be able to hand the pressure or will she destroy her relationship with Colby as well as herself in the process. [This starts in 2018]

Written: 2019

Word Count: 3,065

Warnings: swearing and suicide

(I  put a **trigger warning** right before the triggering part of the chapter and **trigger warning over** at the end of that part so you can read around it)

Serendipity Masterlist

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with?" Colby asks for the millionth time.

My mother asked to meet with me. When I told Colby, he was worried that something would happen like last time and he wouldn't be there to protect me. After texting back with my mother she assured me that it was only going to be the two of us. She even suggested meeting at the diner we used to go to when I was little. I only agreed because of that. I have a lot of good family memories that don't include my father at the diner it brings me some comfort that this will go well.

"Babe, it's fine. Just come over in like two to three hours and we can hide from the world together." I reassure him.

The leak only happened three days ago. I've spent the past two days locked in my apartment. I refused to see or speak to anyone. Colby only partly obeyed my wished. He stayed at the house to give me my boundaries but he would still text and call me constantly to check on me. I needed a few days alone to try to process everything and I can't do that properly if Colby is cuddling with me all day; that would only make me forget about my problems.

"Okay, I'll come over soon. If you aren't there I'll let myself in and wait for you."

"That's fine. I'll see you later."

I open the familiar door to the diner. It looks the same as it did years ago. Suddenly, I'm nine years old again and my mother picked up my brothers and me early from school to take us to the doctor's office for check-ups. I spot my mother familiar brown hair. A small smile appears on my face. Maybe this the time will be different. As I walk closer to her I make sure to hide my smile.

"Hello, mother," I say as I sit down across from her. She looks up from her phone and her seemingly constant disappointed face does not disappear.

"Isabella, I can't stay long." She says as she puts her phone away.

"Then, why did you say to meet at a diner? We could have met at a Starbucks or—"

"We saw those pictures and videos of you." My mother says flatly. She barely makes eye contact and stares mostly at her cup of coffee before looking at me. No, it's more like she's looking through me.

"Y-you did? What do you mean by 'we'?"

"All of us, your cousin was the one to tell me. The entire family has seen them at this point. We also heard about you being fired from your management company. " What she doesn't say but I know she means that everyone has seen them including him.

"The situation is more complicated than you think. I didn't know about them being taken."

"Do you really think I would believe a single thing you've said after what you've put this family through?" Her eyebrows furrow but she speaks in a hushed voice.

"Excuse me?" My slightly raised voice only seems to anger her more. She gives me a look that warns me to be quiet.

"After you... spread those lies about what your father was doing to you, that damaged our family image."

"I didn't lie. They actually did happen. Why would I—why would anyone lie in detail about that?"

"I've read about girls like you who lie about things just to get attention or because something is wrong mentally. We gave you enough attention growing up so it must be the latter."

"I have never lied to you in my entire life." My voice is low but my voice is strong enough for her to hear the seriousness in my tone.

"So secretly moving out of the house on your 18th birthday and tell me you were going to be out with friends isn't lying?"

"I had to get out of there. I had to put myself first and leave before things got worse."

"I don't remember raising such a selfish whore."

That stung. I pause for a second trying to call myself down.

"I needed a way to numb the pain and block out what was happening at home. I couldn't talk to anyone and that's my fault. I didn't want Joey and Benji to be pulled out of the house and have their lives ripped apart. I didn't want you to have to lose all three of your kids as well as your husband. Even when I was going through all that I put you and my older brothers first. I should have told grandma or a teacher or anybody else."

"Stop fixating on the story you created in your head. Your father is a great man who would never lay his hand on any child, especially his own daughter."

"You know what mom, for your sake I've been dancing around this because I didn't want to cause you more pain than this information. But I'm going to say it because it is no longer healthy for me. He raped me, mom. Repeatedly for six years, dad raped me in my own bedroom at night when you were fast asleep. Before that, for as long as I could remember, he molested me almost daily. I know that you don't want to believe it and that's it hard to believe but it's true. He threatened me to avoid me from saying anything and when I finally got the courage to tell someone, you didn't believe me. You called me a liar and told everyone in the family that I was mentally unstable and told them not to believe me if I told them what was happening at home. Now you're going to sit here, in one of the places that I have so many happy memories, and do it all over again?" My mother looked taken aback by my words.

As she is about to open her mouth to reply the waitress comes over to the table and places a water cup in front of me. She looks between my mother and I. Maybe she could sense the tension between us and tried to defuse it. Maybe she's worried that we're just going to sit here and not order. I turn to her and nicely say we're fine. I turn back to my mother and see that her expression of shock and hurt have not left her face. The waitress leaves and my mother clears her throat and sits up straight.

"Don't call me that?" She says suddenly.

"Don't call you what?" I ask confused.

"Mom or mother or any other variation of the word."

"I don't—"

"When I asked you to meet with me, it was to tell you that you are no longer welcomed as a member of the family."

"Excuse me? You're kicking me out of the family?"

"You're behavior as of late has been unacceptable. Accusing Steven of such things was horrendous and traumatizing for all members of the family. To find out that you've been running around Los Angles like a slut and spreading your legs for any boy with a cute face and partying doing God knows what else is where we have to draw the line. Think about your brothers, who are actually in college trying to do something with their lives? Or your cousins? Your aunts and uncles? You think that just because you're rich enough to ruin your life you can ruin all of ours? We've had enough. You're dragging all of us down with you and tarnishing our family name in the process. I should have aborted you when I had the chance."

"I wish you had, not being born at all would probably have been better than being born into this shit show. Not that you'd care but do you know how many times I almost killed myself before I told you about what was happening? Or how much those thoughts multiplied when you told me that I was lying? Just to make things easier for everyone, I thought it would have been better to die."

"Maybe you should have, you would have saved everyone from going through all that you put us through." I stare at her in disbelief as she brushes off what she just said and reaches into her purse to grab her wallet. I quickly pull at mine and grab a $20 bill and a $50 bill. I slam the $20 bill on the table in front of her.

"No, no Lisa. You invited me out, the least I can do is pay for your coffee. Keep the change." I say flatly before getting up to leave. Before walking out of the diner I place the $50 bill in the tip jar. If they had to watch that loving family moment, they might as well get a tip from it.

When I walk out of the diner I'm visibly shaking. My face is dry and it's like my body is about to burst from all the pent up emotion. I try my best to keep it in because the last thing I need is for KeemStar talking about me having a mental breakdown in public. My head isn't even controlling my body anymore. I start walking and don't stop until I'm inside a small liquor store. I walk around mindlessly for a few seconds replaying the conversation in my head over and over again.

When I snap out of it I'm in the section with medical supplies. I eye a bottle of sleeping pills and hesitate before picking it up and walking to the counter. The woman at the counter scans my bottle not even paying attention to me. While she does that I quickly order an uber to take me home.

"Anything else?" She asked, probably wishing I don't so she can go back to doing whatever she was doing before.

"...Yeah, give me a bottle of vodka. I don't care which one." I say as I pull out my debit card. For the first time in my life, she doesn't ID me. She just looks at me for a second and then goes and gets a bottle from behind her before finishing ringing me up. Maybe her day is going just about as great as mine is and she doesn't care either.

When I walk out of the liquor store my Uber was already waiting for me. It isn't until I sit myself down into the car that I realized I bought. The rational part of my brain that usually tells me to stop doesn't. It agrees with the irrational me. Or maybe, the rational part of me is the one controlling me right now. My own mother agrees and mother knows best I guess.

**TRIGGER WARNING**

When I get into my apartment that's when all hell breaks loose. I close and lock the door and slide my back against it and cry and scream. Not only are the emotions I was holding from the conversation with my mother surfacing, but it feels like every single emotion I've ever felt is making an appearance too. I made up my mind in the car that I was going to go through with it. The whole time there was a little part of the rational side of me that kept thinking about Colby. I couldn't do this to him or anyone else the little family that I made with his friends over the past few months. But another part of me argues that I always put others before me my whole life, I deserve to put me first for once.

After calming myself down a bit I managed to get myself off the floor and placing the two bottles on the coffee table before getting a few things from my room. I walk out of my room and placed what I grabbed on the coffee table too. I wipe my tears and examine everything in front of me. I grabbed the notebook where I document everything about mine and Colby's relationship, a piece of paper, a pen, and an envelope. I can't make the biggest commitment of my life without letting Colby know how I feel and how none of this is his fault.

After pouring all my feelings and thoughts for Colby I scribble his name on the envelope and tuck it into the notebook. I took a few shots from the vodka bottle before tearfully taking small handfuls of the sleeping pills until the bottle was finished. I sat on the couch with the vodka bottle in one hand and my phone in the other. I continue to take sips; the taste seems to be numb to my mouth but still burns my throat as I force it down. I scroll through pictures of Colby that you have in your camera roll. I want his smiling face to be the last thing I see before I die. He's not going to be smiling when he finds out but this is how I want to remember him. As I scroll I see that Colby is calling me. Without thinking I answer the phone.

"Hello?" I say slowly.

"Hey babe, I'm walking up to your apartment right now. Are you home yet?" I can hear the happiness in Colby's voice as he speaks on the other end. Part of me starts to feel sad.

"Y-yeah." I choke out. I start crying more than I was before.

"How did it go with your mom?"

"Colby... I fucked up...I'm sorry... I made a mistake." I couldn't help but slur a bit. The tears are falling faster as I thinking about Colby finding me and my last memory of Colby won't be a happy one.

"What are you talking about? Are you drunk?"

Before I could say anything Colby suddenly appeared in front of me. I start crying harder, this wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't want him to see you like this. To make matters worse I feel myself slowly slipping. I'm going to die in Colby's arms and ruin his life.

"Hey, why are you crying? What happened?" Colby says as he takes the bottle out of my hand and tried to wipe my tears.

"Colby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I cry out. My voice barely making it out of my throat.

"Speak up. I can't hear you and I want to help."

"Notebook..." Was all I could say while pointing behind him. I wanted him to get the notebook but I also wanted him to see the empty bottle next to it. I started slumping down on the couch. My eyelids were getting heavier with each passing second. This is not how this is supposed to go. I watch as Colby looks at me confused. He turns around and picks up the notebook. Before he turns back around he slowly picks up the pill bottle.

"Isabella... You didn't... Oh, fuck." I watch as Colby drops the notebook and pulls out his phone.

"I'm...s...sorry" I mumble out.

"Fuck! Izzy, don't close your eyes— Hello..." Everything drifts off into peaceful darkness.

**TRIGGER WARNING OVER**

****

I wake up to the sound of a constant beep. I open my eyes and quickly shut them due to the brightness of the room. I try to rub my eyes but both of my hands are tied to something. I open my eyes to see white, fluffy fabric around both of my wrist. For a second I'm confused but then everything comes back to me. The leak, my meeting with my mother, Colby coming to my apartment early— all of it came flooding back. I examine the room and see a familiar brown haired boy sitting this his head in his hands.

"Col...by..." I whisper out. My throat feels raw and I can barely talk. His head perks up and he stares at me for a second. I can see that his eyes are red and so are his cheeks. His face is still wet with tears. It breaks my heart that I did this to him.

"You scared the shit out of me." He says while walking over to me. He stares at me for a second before going in to hug me softly, not in the near body crushing like he always does. He hugs me as if he were to apply too much pressure I would break.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop worrying about me for a second. Listen, I don't have time before they realize that you're awake and they kick me out. I just don't want you to freak out but they might try to put you on a suicide watch and I wouldn't be able to see you for about 72 hours. I'm going to write my number on you because you are allowed to call me. You probably already know my number but just in case you get overwhelmed I'll write it for you. They're going to talk to you first to see if you need to stay." Even now when I've hurt him in probably the worst way possible, he's still taking care of me. I look at his face and see the stress from who knows how long he's been waiting for me written all over it.

"Colby—" I'm cut off by a nurse who walks in and tells Colby it's time to leave. I feel tears stream down my face. I can't cover my face or wipe my tears and now I have to let Colby see me like this again.

He said they wanted to talk. To evaluate me for now. I might be worse off if I had to stay here for 72 hours. When I saw Colby's face I instantly regretted what I did. The look on his face when he found me and the state that he was in, I instantly regretted my decision and I hated myself more for even doing it. I never wanted to hurt Colby. Somehow, at that moment, I thought that it would hurt Colby less if I left him a letter. As if a letter would make up for my lack of living. I would have given up on more than myself if I actually died. I would have given up on Colby, my friends, my education, everything I wanted for my life.

[scribble-fics]

What were you thinking (raffle winner writing)

For @arlotg uwu they wanted a spinner angst/fluff fic uwu. Hope you enjoy darling!

-

It was late. Midnight blue had held the sky captive to it's abyssal color. Tiny shimmers of light twinked above and the moon barely shines on the earth.

Twisted and shaped like a Cheshire cat grin. The autumn air was chilly, not unbearable however. Just gusts of cool air here and there.

Arlo was resting on a rundown rooftop in a bad part of town. Not really caring about the people below them and more so on the night sky.

They were waiting. As patiently as they could for a certain someone to join them on the rooftop like always.

As if on cue, there was a thud and silence. It pierced the air like a dagger and both pondered on what to say.

"So. You showed up this time" arlo's words were crisp, clear, and laced with venom. Not really meaning to be but they couldn't help it.

"Of course i did."

Hearing his voice made them shiver slightly as they looked over their shoulder they finally saw him.

He looked tired. Restless. Ready to give out yet still standing strong. His scales lightly shimmered in the light of the street lamps below and his hair was tossled slightly.

"I missed you."

A genuine smile lay on his features as the two locked eyes. Arlo sighed and fully turned to the villan.

"You've had every chance to come see me"

"Well work-"

"Just say the league. You don't 'work' in some cubicle you kill people and plot against heros."

Silence fell again. Both unsure of what to really say or do. It was hard dealing with spinner's occupation. It was hard to feel like his top priority when arlo knew that the league was.

"Right.."

It was awkward. What used to be wholesome meetups filled with comfort and laughs, was now a battleground of mixed emotions.

"Forget it, how was your day?" Arlo mumbled out and fidgeted with their fingers in their hoodie pocket. Trying to atleast push aside this upcoming conversation for another time.

"No, i won't forget it. Look i warned you from the beginning what i was, what i do. I told you not to get attached. I told you-"

"You act like this isn't your fault either! You fell in love with me too! You asked me to be yours! You were the one who said 'i love you' first!"

Spinner's eyes widened as he watched tears pool at the other's eyes. Unable to move and comfort them, although if he did he'd just be pushed away.

"You act like im some sort of leech that clung to you, like some burden you can't get rid of! Am i a chore to you shuichi?!"

More. More tears. More outcries. More truth.

More.

"All I've ever done for you is care! Unlike those others you parade around with who would gut you the second you slipped up!"

He knew it was true. He knew the others didn't really care about his health or well being. The cared about the objective.

"I've given you food, water, a place to sleep, medication,money, love, and support! I gave you everything I've ever owned and had no hesitation to it!"

Again more truth, arlo had given him everything he could have ever needed or asked for. Yet spinner seemed to never give them anything but more problems.

"Yet here we are! Standing on a damn rooftop and we're watching ourselves slip apart.." arlo's voice was soft now, crumbled from shouting. Crumbled from the truth.

"Arlo-"

"Don't talk to me. I wouldn't want to be a burden for you anymore. So just forget it."

With that, arlo moved finally. Past spinner and to the rusty old latter that allowed an exit to this all.

All spinner could do was stand there. His mind screaming for his body to move but it refused

-

Days had pass since that night. Spinner did just what was stated and kept quiet to arlo. Not wanting to bother them with anymore problems.

Yet somehow problems stirred even when he was gone.

Because that's just how the world works. Always trouble for someone to deal with.

-

"Alright I'm not gonna tell you again, hand over your money and valuables!"

Oh great, another wannabe criminal who steals with threats. Arlo sighed and looked to the man,

"I don't have any. So piss off would you?" Trying to scoot to one side of the alleyway, arlo just wanted to scoot past and let the guy go bother someone else.

"Don't move or I'll blow your fucking brains out!"

"Go ahead."

Two words that hung in the air heavily. The man was slightly shaking and still held the gun perfectly positioned to the others skull.

Click.

"I'm warning you-"

"You're stalling. A real criminal would just do it. If a real villan were here-"

BANG

-

"Good thing i was right?"

It happened in a flash. The gunshot went off and arlo's ears were ringing, but they didn't feel dead. No, arlo felt two hands quickly pushing their body out the way.

Looking up from the pavement, spinner was smiling wide. The man with the gun had been stabbed it looked like. However all arlo could notice was the gunshot wound in spinner's shoulder.

"That was close huh?" His voice was teetering from here to there and he finally stumbled down on the pavement too, clutching his shoulder and hissing.

Arlo slowly crawled to him and lightly touched his hand that was covering the wound. The feel of his tough scales was so inviting and familiar.

"You're hurt.."

"I'll live. Unlike you if i didn't intervene. What the hell were you thinking being so reckless with your words?"

"I thought..he was bluffing, I don't know. I felt like i had nothing else to loose.."

The both of them were quite now. The silence however didn't stop arlo from gently untying the mask spinner wore and moving his hand, snugly wrapping it around the wound.

The sigh that followed afterwards cut through the air and spinner turned to look the other in the eye,

"I'm sorry.."

"You're not the one that stormed off the roof that night shuichi-"

"No but i should have. I should have said you were right. I should have stopped you and said that i was sorry for being..well, for being me. You don't deserve a life like this, being ignored and having to take care of some sad sack of a villan."

"..yeah but i want to live life like this. I was to worry about you and take care of you. I want to desperately cling to you when you get home because you were in danger. I want to make you feel safe.."

The couple both smiled and took a moment to really reflect on what the other said. Both hearts running rapid like the two were in a highschool crush situation.

"I love you"

"I love you too. Now lets go clean that disgusting wound because all i smell is blood"

"Good idea im gettin' dizzy"

(Hey I'm not dead! Just really sick lol. Hopefully this is okay and yoy enjoy reading it!! Sorry it took so long!!))