#i was extremely vague when they continued asking questions

[dixons-sunshine]

Have some family staying over for a while and accidentally let it slip that I write in my free time. Let me tell you, I've never felt more awkward in my life than having to think of a good enough lie as to what I write than just straight up say I write fanfiction. Ain't no way I'm gonna let them know about that. It's just too weird. I would never be able to look them in the eyes again. I'd have to move out of the country. Thank god they believed my little lie 🙂

[nachobsns]

Hello - I was impressed and extremely relieved by what you wrote in the post about the cult mentality of the Left RE Israel and accusations of genocide. You mentioned that you bought into the mindset until recently. If it's all right for me to ask, what was it that helped you break out of it? (Please feel free to delete/ignore if you'd rather not answer!)

thank you!! and no worries about asking— i think i put something in my pinned post about how people are welcome to send asks about this stuff, although my story isn’t super interesting. i fell down the typical online rabbithole, a couple weeks after october 7; i knew what had happened, at least vaguely, but the posts trickling onto my dash were all about the (undeniably tragic) loss of life in gaza, with little to no acknowledgment of the hamas atrocities that had started the war, so my narrative was pretty one-sided from the beginning. it just continued to snowball as the months went on and people became more radicalized, calling into question the reality of the 10/7 attacks and the humanity of all israelis. i never went all the way down the pipeline to full-on endorsing hamas or justifying their attacks, at least on a personal level, thank god, but i would reblog other people’s posts referring to hamas as a “resistance movement” and calls to boycott starbucks and mcdonald’s and condemnation of the “zionist media” etc etc etc. what pulled me out of it wasn’t any one thing— if someone had directly called me on my flawed logic and antisemitic biases while i was in this mindset, i doubt it would have done much, just reinforced my belief that i was on the “right side of history” and zionists were aggressors who couldn’t be reasoned with. it was mostly just passive observance and a slow exposure to other perspectives. i’m pretty sure the first post that led me to question my thinking was an ask on jewish-vents, which popped up on my dash in like, late july. this led me down another rabbithole, first scouring every single post on jewish-vents, then moving on to more popular jewish blogs that i had seen on “zionist blocklists” (applesauce42069, xclowniex, and spacelazarwolf were probably some of the blogs that influenced me the most, though i told myself i was just hate-scrolling at first, lol). i felt incredibly guilty seeing all the harm the movement i was a part of had caused to random jews and israelis just trying to live their lives and i realized how it went against everything i believed about how minority groups should be treated. from there, the aspect of actually undoing my thinking and changing my behavior for the better still took several weeks. denial of jewish indigenity to the levant in the face of tantamount archeological and cultural evidence was the first to go, as well as any ambiguity in my feelings about hamas. after that, it’s mostly been a slow process of redefining the idf’s actions from a “genocide” to a “war.” i still believe that what’s happening in gaza is unconscionable and horrific, and that too many innocent civilians have died, but i also understand how difficult it is to fight against a terrorist group that systematically embeds itself in civilian populations, and that the ratio of militant to civilian deaths is incredibly low compared to most urban warfare. i quietly deleted my old blog in early august— if i had directly engaged in harassment against jews, i likely would have kept it to make amends to the harmed parties and put a face to my actions, but as was, i had just contributed to the larger atmosphere of antisemitism on this site, and i felt uncomfortable knowing that i had a blog full of sentiments that no longer matched my values and beliefs. i decided i would be better if i took my endorsement out of the equation entirely, because when you’re looking through the notes of a post, it obviously doesn’t matter if someone who’s reblogged it no longer agrees with what was said— their notes still count as tacit approval, and i did not want approval of this “activism” attached to my online presence. i still have unwanted kneejerk reactions that crop up sometimes, particularly around the fundraiser posts from people “in gaza”; even though i know logically that they have all the markers of scams, there is still a part of me that really wants to believe i could help.

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter v

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 14k+

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mean relatives, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecating in some areas etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, there is one scene depicting some physical violence (tame) , finally some fluff!, and I won't spoil any more

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: OMG....ignore the fact that this is releasing a month after ch. 4. 🫠 i'm sorry. On the bright side, I'm VERY excited to share this with you AND this actually isn’t the last chapter. There’s one more after! I hope you enjoy 🥰 ALSO, this is GP!Taehyung in this chapter (....😮‍💨)

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"This can't be right," you mutter to yourself for the umpteenth time, eyes heavily fixated on your laptop screen. You've been scrolling through the latest press releases all morning, a cup of tea growing cold beside you.

Ever since Jimin’s text last week, rumors about your ex-husband stepping down from his position at JeonX practically spread like wildfire, with nearly every journalist adding their individual spin on the matter—some suggest personal issues, while others hint at possible disagreements within the company.

Despite the influx of information, however, it all remains too vague and inconclusive. An official statement from the company directly would help clear up speculations, but it’s been crickets. Their silence only makes you consider the validity of the rumors even more.

Why would they make such a critical leadership change right after their newest product launch though?

This question, among others, continuously swirl in the back of your mind and you find the entire predicament ironic. You used to be one of the first to know the ins and outs of the company, easily able to distinguish the truth. Now, you're left in the dark like everyone else, dependent on the media for answers.

Before your eyes have time to skim the next group of articles on your screen, your phone rings.

It's Taehyung.

“Hey,” you answer casually, momentarily forgetting the significance of the call.

“Morning!” His voice is gravelly yet carries a cheerful tone. He seems quite upbeat for a foggy Saturday at 8 a.m. “Are you still okay to carpool to my parents' place today? Tan and I are on our way over.”

Dammit. Of course, this isn’t just any old Saturday—it’s the day of Taehyung’s family gathering. It had slipped your mind that you asked to ride together a few days prior. Given that it would be a five-hour long commute, driving separately seemed less convenient and enjoyable. Besides, you’d miss out on having Tan on your lap, his head poking out of the passenger-side window.

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”

“Great! See you soon.” Taehyung hangs up, and you put your phone down with a deep breath.

To be blunt, you're still extremely nervous about the affair. Surely his family knows who you are and has seen their fair share of articles about you. So how will they react when you show up next to Taehyung at their family function? He says they’ll like you, but it's hard to accept.

Nonetheless, you know how important this family gathering is to him and how much he wants you to be there. Not only is it a family event, but it’s also a celebration of his recovery from a motorcycle accident that could’ve been much worse.

As you pour your cold cup of tea down the sink, you try to push away the unsettling mix of thoughts, focusing instead on the next task at hand— how you should dress. Prior conversations with Taehyung advise you that something polished would be ideal for the occasion, as his family appreciates a touch of elegance, yet your mind blanks on a tangible option. Surely, there’s something in the back of your closet that would do the trick. Right?

Well…you’re right-ish.

Upon searching through rows of hangers, arms growing tired, you finally find a somewhat suitable sundress. You’re hoping it won’t look too casual, but you don’t seem to have a better alternative with your closet currently overtaken by work clothes.

Wasting no further time, you quickly slip the dress over your head and observe how it fits in the mirror. Not bad, you think, before deciding on a few complimentary jewelry pieces. The saving grace of this choice of clothing is that it can easily be dolled up, which is exactly what’s needed today.

Soon, you hear the muffling of an engine and when you peek through your bedroom window, you’re unsurprised to see Taehyung’s car pull into the driveway with a very excited Tan poking his head out from the backseat. A small smile forms on your lips at the sight.

Sparing one final look in the mirror, you slide into your shoes, toss your bag over a shoulder, and head outside to meet them.

“Hey!” Per usual, you're met with a warm smile as you hop into Taehyung's car but before you can return the greeting, Tan bounds onto your lap, tail wagging eagerly. “God, I’m so sorry about him,” Taehyung reaches for his dog, but you quickly reassure him it’s alright.

“I’m happy to see you too, Tan,” you laugh, petting him affectionately. Your focus then shifts over to Taehyung, "Thanks for coming to get me."

“Of course,” he replies, smile widening as he watches Tan settle into your lap. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me," he continues, pulling away from the curb. "My parents are looking forward to meeting you.”

You nod, trying to calm your fluttering nerves. “I’m looking forward to meeting them too.” This time, when you glance his way, you take in his attire—a crisp white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black dress pants. It’s a classic look, yet it seems oddly refreshing on him. It's not like you expected Taehyung to look bad or anything; far from it, but did he always have to look this good? A queasy feeling soon settles in the pit of your stomach...maybe you should have worn something else.

Before you're able to fully turn away from him, Taehyung speaks up. “You look really nice today,” he says softly, eyes lingering over your face and down your body before shyly refocusing on the road. “That dress is beautiful on you—it really suits you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply with a shy smile of your own, unexpectant of his comment. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Something about the subtle exchange of compliments stirs a bundle of nerves in both of you and even with averted eyes, neither of you finds it entirely unpleasant.

The rest of the drive is long, but luckily, soon fills with lighthearted conversation and laughter. It's become easier and easier to be around Taehyung, you think.

After more than a few bathroom breaks—mostly due to Tan’s persistent whining—you finally catch sight of Taehyung’s parent’s house.

It’s even more picturesque than you imagined, with its charming architecture and well-tended garden. In the distance, the ocean glimmers, tying the scene perfectly together.

“I meant to mention earlier, but my parents have an oceanfront view,” Taehyung says casually, pulling up to the house. “We can go down there later if you’d like. It’s private access.”

“Really?” You glance over at him with anticipation, your excitement clear. You can already taste the saltiness of the water. “If it’s really okay, I’d love that.”

“It’s more than okay,” he assures with a smile. “In fact, it’s a done deal. The best time to go is in the evening. We can even use the excuse that we need to take Tan for a little stroll if necessary. Family bonding can get a bit overwhelming without a few breaks.” He lets out a chuckle but stops when he notices your slightly demure expression.

“Hey,” he turns to you with gentle eyes. “Everything okay?”

You blink, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gone to any kind of family affair. They know I’m coming, right?”

Understanding your apprehension, Taehyung shifts the gear into park and places a light hand on your arm. “Absolutely, and please believe me when I say they’re more than ready and excited to meet you. They’ve asked about you so many times—I’m pretty sure I’ve lost count. I’m really happy you’re here with me too, so I hope you don’t feel like you’re intruding because I promise you’re not at all. And if at any point you need a moment to yourself, take it. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible, and I’m confident my family will want the same.”

With his hand on your arm, you find yourself wrapping yourself in the comfort of the gesture, nerves slowly easing in the process. “Thanks, Tae,” you reply, feeling a tad lighter than before.

“Are you ready?”

You nod, signaling him to remove his hand to take the key out of the ignition. As his hand leaves your arm however, you feel a subtle, unexpected shift—wishing the warmth of his touch could linger just a moment longer.

But hold up.

Since when did he affect you like this?

Dwelling on it further proves to be futile because before you can blink, the house’s front door swings wide open, revealing an older, petite woman with a kind and inviting smile. You both step out of the car immediately, Tan happily trotting around the yard confidently.

The woman pulls Taehyung into a big hug once close enough, and it’s all the evidence you need to deduce that she must be his mother.

“We were wondering where you were!” she starts. “Everyone’s here except you.” It’s a light scold, not that Taehyung minds from the giant grin spreading across his face.

“Forgive me, Mom. I guess we’re fashionably late,” he replies.

Mrs. Kim looks up and down her son with adoration, hands still gripping his arms. “Look at you,” she coos, as if proud. “My son is so handsome. I’m so happy to see you here, healthy and well.”

“Mom, this is __.”

Her eyes then shift to you, standing somewhat awkwardly beside them. If possible, her warm expression brightens even more, taking you by surprise.

“My goodness, I’m being so rude," she says, stepping toward you. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you, honey. Are you okay with hugs?”

“Sure.” You offer a sincere smile and embrace her. When you do, you feel a sense of peacefulness that you hadn’t ever before, soothing any lingering tension. You can’t help but assume that many of Taehyung’s qualities must come from her.

“I’m so pleased that my son brought you today,” she says, pulling back from the hug. She takes in your clothing as well. “You're absolutely lovely, my dear. Doesn't this color work wonderfully on her?” She glances at Taehyung, who merely nods in agreement.

“You’re the one who looks beautiful, Mrs. Kim,” you return the compliment, feeling a tad embarrassed by all the praise. “I love your earrings by the way. Are they jade?”

She nods, pleasantly. “Thank you for noticing. They’re indeed jade. My husband gifted them to me for our anniversary last year. I told him he didn’t need to get me anything, but that man is so persistent. Speaking of which, you should come inside and meet him.” She turns around at once and ushers you and Taehyung into the house. He allows you to go first.

As you follow Mrs. Kim up the steps, Tan bounds ahead excitedly. The aroma of delicious food fills the air the further you walk, and soon you’re greeted by a cozy, homey atmosphere.

Finally, you find Taehyung’s father in the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink. “Honey, Taehyung’s here and he brought __ with him.” Upon hearing your name, the man quickly dries his hands on a towel and extends a friendly hand your way, eyes twinkling.

“Hello, __! I’m glad you could come today. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It’s gorgeous in here.”

“Well, we have our son to thank.” He directs his attention to Taehyung, reaching out and patting his son on the back with a proud smile. “He bought this house for us after all. He’s a good son.”

What?

You glance at Taehyung in surprise, intrigued to learn more about this new bit of information. However, seemingly flustered by the comment, you decide it’s better to save it for another time. His mother is quick to step in.

“Taehyung, dear, why don’t you show __ around and introduce her to everyone?” she suggests smoothly. “They’re all in the living room. We’ll gather everyone to have lunch soon.”

Taehyung nods at the suggestion and begins leading you through the house, until you reach the living room at the end of the hall. The room is even larger than you anticipated upon entering, its high ceilings finished with a delicate glass chandelier. A grand piano sits in the far corner as well where a number of children huddle together, each taking turns playing a few notes.

One by one, Taehyung starts introducing you to his relatives and despite your initial apprehension, each person you meet greets you with nothing but warmth and kindness. Not even a single person shows discomfort towards you or makes a dig into your personal life (though you’re certain they’re well aware of who you are). It’s no wonder Taehyung boasts about his family so often—they truly are a close-knit and respectable group of people.

At least, that’s what you think until Taehyung asks, “Where's Auntie and Uncle? I haven’t seen them yet.”

One of Taehyung’s cousins looks a bit hesitant before replying, “Oh, Tae, I’m sorry, but we haven’t heard anything from them so they might not be coming today. Maybe they had last-minute plans. It’s a bit of a shame, really.”

An odd silence settles over the room at this, conversations lower in volume, and a few knowing glances are exchanged among relatives. The abrupt shift seems to throw a wrench into your previous statement of closeness since, evidently, the absence of Taehyung’s aunt and uncle casts a dark shadow over the cheerful gathering.

Sensing an awkward lull, Taehyung tries to lighten the mood with a bright smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll still have a great time. I’m just happy to see everyone here.” He gently redirects the conversation to something more upbeat, attempting to remedy the unusual tension.

Just then, a small figure bursts into the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

A little girl, no more than six or seven years old, runs straight toward Taehyung with arms outstretched. “Taetae!” she shouts, using the affectionate nickname as she latches herself around his legs.

Taehyung's face breaks into possibly the happiest grin you’ve seen in response as he kneels to lift her up effortlessly, holding her close as she giggles. “Hey, sweetheart! I missed you!” His voice is filled with affection, though there’s a hint of shock as well.

Eagerly, the little girl secures her arms around his neck. “I missed you too! Mommy and Daddy said we might not be able to come, but here we are!”

“Well, I'm so glad! Have you been a good girl for your parents?” he asks with a playful tone.

The little girl nods vigorously. “Yes! I’ve been helping Mommy with so much lately.”

“Good job!” Taehyung says, giving her a high five.

You’re unsure exactly how the two relate, but the longer you watch the interaction unfold, the more evident it becomes that Taehyung’s a natural at connecting with children. His playful demeanor and patience make it clear that he has a special way with them. It’s heartwarming to see, quite honestly.

“Taetae, who’s she?” the little girl asks suddenly, her big, curious eyes setting on you.

Taehyung smiles and gestures for you to come closer. “This is __. She’s my friend.” He looks at you and adds, “This is my little cousin Eun-ha. We’re quite close.”

“Hi, Eun-ha,” you greet with a soft smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t return your greeting, but rather leans into Taehyung’s ear and whispers something you can’t quite hear.

Taehyung chuckles softly, though it does little to conceal your curiosity. “No, Eun-ha,” he says, shaking his head. “We don’t kiss like in my movies. But yes, she's very pretty.”

Though you wish otherwise, your surprise is barely hidden as you process the revelation.

“Why not?” Eun-ha asks, puzzled. “You kiss lots of pretty people in the movies.”

Flustered, Taehyung clears his throat. “Who’s letting you watch my shows? You’re a little young for those I think.”

“She likes to watch them when she can’t see you,” a new voice interjects.

Following the voice, you see two adults entering the room– Taehyung’s aunt and uncle. Their expressions are clearly stiff and somewhat distant, a stark contrast to the warmth of the rest of the family.

“Well, I guess it’s okay then,” Taehyung responds, maintaining his usual beaming smile. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s good to see you.”

His aunt and uncle offer polite but somewhat curt greetings.

“Glad to see you’re alright, Taehyung,” his aunt says, her tone lacking warmth.

“Hello,” his uncle adds, his expression neutral. “I see you’ve brought a guest.” He nods toward you.

“Yes, this is __,” Taehyung introduces you, “She’s a friend of mine and a colleague as well.”

The pair glance at you briefly, their eyes betraying a lack of interest.

“Nice to meet you,” his aunt says, though the thickness in her tone suggests otherwise.

“Likewise,” you respond, trying to match their formality with a friendly smile.

“You know, when I heard my nephew was bringing a guest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect,” she continues, though the implication is unclear.

“I’m sorry?” you ask, trying to grasp her meaning.

“My apologies. I work as an editor for a journalism outlet, so I’ve come across your name before,” she explains. “It’s always interesting to see people in person after reading about them. I can’t say I ever imagined having the opportunity today.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to keep your composure. “I hope the coverage has been accurate.” You know they haven’t been, aside from a couple of progressive news outlets. Based on her rigid stare, you don’t think she belongs to either of them.

“They’re accurate most of the time,” she replies, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Although, there are always…different perspectives on such matters.”

You offer a polite, tight-lipped smile in response. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, however, your hands unconsciously clench into fists at your sides, indicating your bubbling discomfort.

“Well, I’m sure those articles are just one side of the coin,” Taehyung chimes in, attempting to smooth over the conversation. “I’m of the mindset that you really don’t know a person until you spend time with them. And I can assure you, those overpriced tabloids have it all wrong.” He shoots you a reassuring look.

In the midst of it all, Taehyung’s father steps into the room, oblivious to the tension. “Alright everyone, it’s time to eat!” he announces, his voice carrying a cheerful note. “Let’s gather around now.”

Neither you nor Taehyung’s aunt speak another word to each other as you follow his father into the dining room. You take a deep breath along the way, an attempt to steady yourself.

As lunch begins, Taehyung’s father stands at the head of the table, a broad smile on his face as he raises a glass.

“We want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate Taehyung’s recovery,” he begins, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. “We’re grateful for this family and for the love and support that has carried us through. To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” everyone echoes, lifting their glasses in a unified cheer.

From then on, the meal progresses smoothly, with conversation gradually returning to pleasant topics. Dishes are passed around, and laughter helps lighten the mood. Taehyung’s parents share stories of their journey together, their voices rich with wisdom and nostalgia. As you listen, you get a glimpse of the morals that have shaped their family. It’s so different from your own upbringing, and you feel honored to be a part of it today.

Yet it's still difficult to ignore the lingering heaviness in your chest from your earlier interaction with Taehyung’s aunt. Even now, her sour expression is directed your way, though she seems to withhold her remarks, perhaps due to Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s presence.

Don’t take this personally, you repeat in your head. There’s likely some underlying history or traditional views being projected onto you. This isn’t really about you…don't take it personally.

Midway through the meal, Taehyung’s mother intrigues everyone by pulling out a collection of old photographs. She begins sharing the backstories of various childhood photos of Taehyung, the corners of her eyes crinkling with joy and amusement as she recounts each memory. Taehyung, visibly flustered, tries to hide his blush as his family teases him.

“Oh, look at this one!” his mother exclaims, holding up a particularly old photo of a much younger Taehyung with a hilariously exaggerated hairstyle. “He was so determined to be a rock star!”

The room bursts into laughter, and Taehyung grins sheepishly, his cheeks rosy. “Is this really necessary? I mean __’s here…”

“Come on, Tae, it’s cute!” you say with a smile, giving his arm a playful shove. As you do, Taehyung’s aunt’s eyes widen slightly. Her gaze shifts sharply between you two, and a flicker of disapproval crosses her face. You stop your playfulness upon first notice, finding it hard to ignore.

“It’s embarrassing,” Taehyung retorts, unaware of his aunt’s reaction.

“Oh hush,” his mother replies with a warm smile. “Let a mother indulge in the memories of her children. You’re all grown up now, and with your busy schedule, I hardly see you anymore.”

“Alright, fair point,” Taehyung concedes. “Carry on.”

When the meal winds down, Taehyung’s aunt clears her throat and speaks up. “Is everyone ready for dessert? I’ve baked a homemade cake,” she announces, tone carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness. Turning to you, she adds, “Would you mind assisting me in the kitchen, __? I could use an extra hand.”

Taehyung immediately offers to help, but his aunt insists on speaking with you alone, masking it as an opportunity to get to know you better.

Once you’re in the kitchen and away from prying eyes and ears, Taehyung’s aunt’s demeanor shifts abruptly. She returns to her previous blunt and unreserved nature. “I need to be honest with you,” she begins, her voice low and steely. “I don’t think you should be here.”

Her words sting, yet a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some merit to them.

“I know this is a family event, and I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding. Taehyung invited me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she dismisses, venom lacing her tone. “I mean, you shouldn’t be here with Taehyung.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to—”

“Oh please, don’t pretend I don’t have eyes, Ms. __,” she interjects sharply. The use of your formal name sends a chill down your spine. “You may be friends now, but I can see there’s more going on beneath the surface. Unlike the rest of my family, I won’t just stand by and let it happen. So, if you think you can charm your way into my nephew’s life just like you did with that ex-husband of yours, then you’re mistaken. I won’t allow you to ruin his life.”

Ruin his life? You ruined Jungkook’s life and now you are about to ruin Taehyung’s? Confused and hurt, you finally realize the root of the matter–she's convinced you’re a gold digger.

You’re stunned by the accusation, struggling to find words as she continues. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind either. Even if the articles aren’t exactly true, you still have a past, and Taehyung deserves better—someone without all these complications. Don’t you agree? Maybe if you hadn’t been married before and were ten years younger, things might be different. But honestly? A woman your age should already have a family of her own.”

Silence falls heavily in the kitchen after her final words, the only sound being your labored breaths. Your throat goes dry and your hands clammy as some of your deepest insecurities take root, striking right at your core.

It’s true—you’re 30 years old, divorced, and without children. It’s a stark contrast to your peers.

You’d always imagined your life turning out differently, but here you are, alone and without any kind of companionship. You weren’t expecting to be reminded of it all today.

“I think you’ve made yourself clear about how you feel,” a voice speaks up, and you think it’s yours, until you realize it’s much too deep.

Taehyung’s aunt looks momentarily stunned to see her nephew standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. But she quickly regains her composure. “Taehyung, I was just—”

“Please don’t,” he interrupts, voice firm. “If I had known you were going to be this cruel towards someone I deeply care about, then I’m sorry I invited you.”

He steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “You have no right to judge someone you don’t know based on rumors and assumptions.”

His aunt’s face softens, though her disapproval remains. “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from my own choices,” Taehyung replies, his voice calmer. “I’ve made my own decisions, and __ is a part of that. If you can’t respect that, then maybe you should reconsider how you approach these situations.”

Taehyung’s aunt stands silent for a moment, her gaze shifting between Taehyung and you. She seems to weigh his words before finally nodding and turning back towards the dining room, her displeasure still evident.

Taehyung turns to you, his face etched with worry. “Are you alright?”

You hesitate, unable to give a clear response. “I… I think I need some air,” you finally say.

“Maybe it’s time we take that walk down to the beach,” he suggests gently. “What do you think? Of course, if you’d prefer to go solo, that’s completely your call too. I’ll understand either way.”

You nod, appreciating the idea. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“Let me grab Tan and we can head down,” Taehyung says with a reassuring smile.

The sound of the waves grows louder as you approach the ocean, providing a soothing backdrop to your racing thoughts. It's even more beautiful up close, you think, observing how the sun reflects off the water.

As you walk along the shore, Tan runs ahead, chasing the waves and barking playfully. The sight of him brings a small smile to your face, easing some of the heaviness in your chest.

Taehyung walks beside you, his presence peaceful, though neither of you are quick to speak.

Finally, after a few minutes pass, he breaks the silence.

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there," he says quietly. "My aunt's always had more traditional perspectives, but I didn’t know how rigid they’d gotten. Regardless of how she might've made you feel, I want you to know that you’re very important to me and I couldn't care less about what the public says. The rest of my family seems to love you too so far."

You take a deep breath, the salty air filling your lungs. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung. But thank you.” You pause, your face visibly conflicted. “To be honest, I’ve heard variations of it before from other people. I just didn’t expect her to be so… direct.”

He nods, turning to you with sincerity. “I know it was hurtful, and even though I didn’t hear everything she said, you didn’t deserve it. It's not true, either.”

You manage a small, tight-lipped smile, but it hardly matches how you feel inside. “Well,” you begin, continuing your walk, “some of it's true, I think.” Taehyung looks at you with concern, though you struggle to hold his gaze.

“Wanna sit?” he suggests lightly, gesturing to a spot on the beach with a clear view of the waves ahead. "Tan'll be fine to roam around on his own."

You nod slowly in reply, a gentle breeze caressing your face and feathering against your legs as you move.

Once you reach the area, you tuck the skirt of your dress beneath your thighs and take a seat on the soft sand. Taehyung sits down beside you.

“So,” he starts again, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s true?"

You take a moment, watching the waves crash against the shore before forming a response. “It’s just…” Your voice falters as you search for the right words. “I’m 30 years old. The natural course for someone my age is to have a family, a couple of kids, and of course, be married. Or at the very least, have a reliable romantic partner.”

“Instead,” you take a short breath, “it feels like I’m living in a completely different reality from everyone else. Divorced from a big shot CEO, without children, and painted as some kind of spinster or gold digger for the media to exploit. Being a woman, there's really no in-between which makes it that much harder to overcome."

Upon finishing your thought, an unmistakable nervousness bubbles up within you. Had you just overshared? Were you too honest? Although unsettled, everything in you hopes that you didn't just overstep your boundaries with Taehyung, as the two of you hadn't had this deep of a conversation before. You find yourself holding your breath as he replies.

"To have all that unnecessary pressure placed on you is unfair,” he says quietly. “I can’t imagine how tough it must be to feel disregarded and reduced to so little. I'm so sorry, __. I'm sorry that we gets so fixated on image and what’s deemed proper that we often forget the real meaning behind things. I know it might be hard to believe, but there’s more to your story than what others see or say. More than even you might think, too."

As if inevitable, your vision goes misty and a tear spills down your cheek upon hearing his words, though you're quick to wipe it away. It's not that the words themselves are monumental, but rather, they confirm the closeness of your relationship. Few people have ever understood or cared to understand you, so you had stopped expecting it altogether, especially after your divorce. Yet somehow, Taehyung always surprises you, being one of the few who truly does.

Feeling a bit more comfortable, you admit, "I know it's probably an overstatement, but I can't help but feel like I'm alone in ways that are hard to escape. Some days I just don't know what to do with it all. Does that make sense?"

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, taking the hand you used to wipe your tears and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch sends a comforting spark through you. He’s never called you that before, and it feels unexpectedly intimate—almost domestic, if you didn’t know better.

“It makes complete sense, especially given what you've gone through and still are. You don’t ever have to feel alone anymore though,” he continues. “I’m here for you. You have Jimin and Namjoon too. And the three of us? We’ll always have your back.”

Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with such warmth and innocence, yet he hasn’t fully grasped the weight of your words.

“I appreciate it,” you say gratefully. “It’s not all one-dimensional, though. When I say I feel alone, I mean relationally as well because, given my age and marital status, it's unlikely I'll find any real companionship. I’m just considered ‘used goods' after all.”

“Used goods? Who the hell said you're used?” Taehyung’s voice rises, not in anger but in genuine offense. Amid his reaction, his hand slips from yours.

“Our entire society?” you retort, raising your voice before lowering it again, realizing he means well. You pull your legs up to your chin and hug them. “I’m divorced, Tae. I’m no beauty queen. Just used goods, as I said.”

You both stare out into the distance, falling into a brief silence.

“Well, I for one think you’re very gorgeous,” he says softly, still gazing ahead. “So please, don’t call yourself used. You’re definitely not.”

“Tae—”

“Do you wish you were still married?” he interjects gently, eyes returning to yours, searching for the truth. He wants to add, To Jungkook? but keeps it to himself, not deeming it his business.

You take a moment to process his question before responding.

“Some days I do,” you admit. “Not just with anyone, though. I’ve already learned my lesson the hard way. Jimin tried setting me up with a few of his coworkers a while back, but I declined. They’re so far away that I doubt anything would work out. Plus, not to be harsh but who in their right mind would risk it with me anyway?”

“I mean...I would,” he replies almost immediately, insistence in his voice. There's no trace of bluff at all and for a moment, your heart feels like it's doing about a hundred somersaults in your chest. Taehyung's seriousness makes it seem like he means it in a deeper way, but it can't be—he’s merely speaking figuratively because of your closeness.

“Of course you would,” you reply, grabbing his hand again and smiling gratefully. “Because you love me, right?”

You pose the question playfully, feeling your mood lift slightly, but Taehyung’s expression turns stunned, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I do,” he finally murmurs, deep and meaningful, a soft glimmer in his eyes. “I really do.”

"Hu-" you choke on your words, still trying to process his. You never finish, though, as Taehyung suddenly moves to stand up, a newfound cheekiness taking precedence over his face.

“Come on,” he says, “on a warm day like this, we should find a way to enjoy ourselves. Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, though to be honest, you're not surprised by his spontaneity. “Dancing is a no, Tae. You know I have zero rhythm.”

He doesn’t reply to your argument but instead draws his phone from his pocket, tapping around until light jazz music starts playing. He turns up the volume as loud as he can before placing it on the ground beside you.

“What are you doing?” you watch as he begins swaying his body from side to side, snapping his fingers when the beat feels right.

“I’m dancing by myself since you refuse to get up.”

You laugh, “I happen to like it this way. You can be my source of entertainment.” You adjust yourself so your legs are stretched out in front of you, feet crossed as you lean back on your arms.

He chuckles and continues dancing in small circles. You feel a little guilty the longer you watch. But then...

“__,” he calls your name, low and raspy. He steps over towards you and leans down until he's face to face with you. You like the way the sun glows down on his face, and the thought crosses your mind—he looks incredibly handsome. “__,” he calls your name again, and you realize you've been staring a little too long.

“Sorry,” you reply. “Sun’s making me dazed.”

He gives his usual boxy smile, and damn, why are you feeling so affected by him today? It’s not usually this much.

“Will you please dance with me? I don’t mind dancing by myself, but I prefer a partner.” He pouts and you know you’re done for.

“I’m not going to be good though,” you reply, reluctantly rising from your comfortable seated position. Taehyung pulls you into his hold the moment you’re on your feet. It's a little rougher than he meant, and your bodies accidentally collide in the process.

“Shit, my bad,” he says, taking a small step back.

“It’s fine," you assure, doing the same but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. You can't quite place the scent, but it’s nice...really, really nice.

As the music continues to play, you both sway gently to the rhythm. Taehyung’s touch is warm and steady as he guides you through each simple step. You feel a strange sense of comfort and safety in his arms, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.

“I didn’t realize you were such a good dancer,” you start. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

He spins you gently, and you let out a surprised laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the jazz music. “I had to take ballroom dancing lessons for a role I played years ago,” he replies smoothly, “but I enjoyed it, so I kept it up.” When you come back to him, he holds you a little tighter, and the closeness feels more intimate and special than you anticipated.

“You’re doing great, by the way,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Even with barely any practice."

“All thanks to you,” you reply, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I guess it’s kinda fun.”

“See? Not so bad,” he says with a triumphant grin.

You glance towards the ocean, feeling a rush of spontaneity yourself. “The water looks so inviting. We should go in.”

He quirks a brow, taking in both of your more formal attire. “Dressed like this?” he asks.

You don’t answer. Instead, you slide out of his hold and run towards the water, laughing and splashing him once he’s close enough behind you.

“Hey! This was expensive!” he shouts, but there's no threat in his voice, only amusement.

“Well, you shouldn’t have worn it around me then!” you tease, splashing him again.

Now nearly drenched, Taehyung huffs and bends down to scoop water into his palm. “You’re gonna get it…” You back away quickly, but he follows after you. “Come here, I have a very special gift for you __,” he says mischievously, water spilling from his hand as he chases you.

You both end up playing in the water for the next ten minutes, splashing and laughing until you find yourself regaining confidence. At some point, Taehyung unexpectedly tackles you from behind, his arms wrapping so tightly around your waist that no amount of movement would free you.

You find yourselves too lost in amusement to notice your closeness until small droplets of water begin falling from above.

"Was that rain?" You stop all movement, but his grip doesn’t loosen. "Tae?" You call his name when it seems he doesn’t register your question, twisting your head over your shoulder to peer at him.

“Oh…um, sorry,” he finally stammers, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realizes the tight hold he has on you. His body flushes against your back.

“No, it’s okay…” you struggle to conceal a blush of your own, the warmth of his embrace a little overpowering. "So, I think we should head back. I'm pretty sure it's raining."

He nods and slowly unwraps his arms from around you. "I agree, but where's Tan?" His eyes frantically scan around the beach. "Tan!" he calls, and soon, two fluffy, slightly damp ears pop out from behind a rock.

"Aww," you exclaim, bending down to pick up the little dog when he trots over. "Look at him. We neglected the baby."

Taehyung snorts at your remark. "He'll be okay. It barely started."

You pretend to cover Tan's ears and shoot Taehyung a faux alarmed expression. "He can hear you, you know."

Taehyung chuckles and gently cups Tan’s face while he nestles in your arms, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Sorry, buddy,” he says with a grin. As he looks up, he catches a prolonged gaze in your eyes and raises an eyebrow. “What? You want one too?”

“Oh, uhm, no,” you laugh, a bit nervously, shaking your head. “It’s just nice to see you so endearing.” You think back to how Taehyung had interacted so sweetly with his younger cousin, Eun-ha, earlier. It’s a side of him you're finding increasingly appealing.

Taehyung's gaze softens as he replies, “I like to take care of those I love.”

Love, you repeat quietly to yourself. It sounds so different when he says it.

You smile and, side by side, head back to the house.

The faint drizzle of rain quickly turns into a downpour, with a flash of lightning illuminating the sky and thunder rumbling in the distance. Despite the potential inconvenience, Taehyung’s parents insist that it would be better for both of you to wait until morning to drive back.

"It isn't safe," his mom advises, fluffing a pillow in the guest bedroom. "The two of you can stay here for the night. I’d offer the living room sofa too, but some of your cousins are staying over as well."

"Thanks, Mom," Taehyung replies, and when she leaves the room he casts a brief glance your way. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No, you can sleep in the bed with Tan." You pause, eyes scanning the room for an alternative spot. “This chair looks pretty comfortable. I’ll grab a blanket and make do.”

"Okay no, I’m not letting you sleep on that old, dusty chair and risk waking up with a giant kink in your neck.” Taehyung places his hands on his hips, his tone firm. “Why don’t we just sleep in the bed together? For some inexplicable reason, my parents chose to put a California King in here so there should be plenty of room. I’ll even sleep on top of the covers.”

“No, it's fine. Tan needs his space."

“Sweetheart." There it is again, that same petname from earlier. Why do you not seem to hate it? "Tan is so tiny he’ll literally curl between us," he argues, though it does little to convince you.

“Tae, I told you it’s—”

“Alright, I’ll take the chair then-” Taehyung starts to move toward it, but stubbornly, you block his path. There's no way he's sleeping on a chair when you're the guest here.

“You will do no such thing!" Naturally, you place your hands on your hips. “This is your home—well, your parent's home and I won't be subjecting you to sleep on something that small. Seriously Tae, I'd fit much better on it than you would given our height differences.”

A small, frustrated sigh escapes him as he counters, “I'd really rather you be comfortable, especially in an unfamiliar environment. So can we please stop arguing about this? It’s really unnecessary. Either I take the chair or we both find a way to share the bed. You can’t tell me you and Jimin never shared a bed before, and he’s your friend too!"

“Yes, but that’s different,” you insist. “Jimin and I have been friends for years! There’s a strong trust built between us.”

“What do you mean by that? You don’t trust me?” His face mirrors that of a sad, puppy-dog.

“Tae, it’s not that at all,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring. “I do trust you. It’s just… I guess I just meant that Jimin and I have a long history together. We’ve grown very comfortable with each other in ways you and I haven’t yet.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow in concern. “What are you really worried about, __?”

You shrug, feeling a bit flustered. “Nothing…”

Your mind immediately drifts back to the beach—how he listened, held your hand gently, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, and what it felt like to be held so close under the rain. Everything felt so genuine, warm, and openly vulnerable.

You share similar feelings with Jimin, but they have limits as you are definitely only friends… best friends, to be precise. With Taehyung, you figured it would be the same; however, after today, you're realizing more and more how unsure you are of where the limits are (or where you want them to be), and it startles you.

But it’s not this alone that fuels your apprehension tonight— there’s something else.

“You know I won’t do anything right?” Taehyung asks, his voice earnest. “I sleep with five pillows!”

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Five? What the hell, Tae? Are you a princess?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, more nonchalantly than expected, “but stop deflecting. It sounds weird and a bit kinky, but why won’t you sleep in the bed with me?”

Should you tell him?

Your expression grows serious as you explain, “Because it can be very intimate,” you murmur softly. “Maybe I'm overthinking it all, but the last time I shared a bed with someone it...uhm...it was…”

“...with your ex-husband,” Taehyung finishes for you, his tone gentle with understanding. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Yes…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s silly, but I haven’t done it in a long time. Even Jimin and I haven’t shared a bed in years.”

“I’m sorry…” Taehyung says, his voice filled with genuine regret.

“Tae, you don’t have to be sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s my own issue. I’ll just sleep on the chair, alright? It’s only one night.”

“Not happening, you’ll take the bed with Tan.”

“Seriously,” you start to protest, but he’s already moving toward the foot of the bed with determination in his eyes. He grabs the blanket from the end and rushes over to the chair with haste. You run after him, pulling at his arm, and both of you end up laughing, the tension gradually breaking.

“It's been a very long day and I'm quite tired, __. How about turning off the lights, please?” He spreads out the blanket and settles into the chair with a satisfied sigh. Then, there’s a loud creak followed by a distinct cracking sound.

“Fuck—” Taehyung swears as the chair suddenly collapses under his weight. He rises from his seat, grimacing at the broken chair. “I knew it was old, but damn, I didn’t think it was that old.”

“Shit, please tell me this wasn't a family heirloom or something.”

“Uh… I don’t think so?” Taehyung scratches his head, looking sheepish. “I’ll let my mom know in the morning. It’ll be fine, okay? No worries. But, um, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.” Taehyung then grabs a couple pillows and a blanket and starts forming a makeshift bed on the floor. While you watch him, your heart softens despite your exhaustion.

“Alright, enough,” you sigh, exasperated. “If we keep this up, we’ll just be going in circles all night. Let’s just share the bed, Tae. It’s not worth you being uncomfortable.”

Taehyung looks up, concern written over his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable either. I’m happy to—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, doing your best not to overthink it. “You're the one who'll be driving for five hours tomorrow anyway, so let’s just get some decent rest. It's okay, really.”

After a good long pause, you both end up climbing into the bed, each taking your own side as Tan curls himself at the foot of the bed. Taehyung reaches over to turn off the light, but despite the calmness of the room, you find yourself unable to sleep right away. You’re unaware he feels similarly until he unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks quietly. “We have more blankets if you need them.”

You turn slightly toward him. “I’m okay for now, but thanks for checking.”

He gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just let me know if you need anything. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You roll back onto your side and close your eyes. “You too.”

As the night deepens, the storm outside continues its relentless drumming against the windows. At some point, Taehyung jolts awake to a faint but unmistakable sound.

He blinks groggily at first, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. Then he notices your restless movements and hears you murmuring softly in your sleep, a note of distress in your voice.

"__?" he asks quietly, still half-asleep. "Are you okay?"

When you don’t respond, he shifts closer, concerned by the unease on your face. Seeing your share of the blankets has slipped off, he gently tugs them back over you, making sure they cover you comfortably.

Amid the movement, a muddled groan escapes your lips—something between a whimper and a sigh, "Mmm… no…"

It doesn't take a genius to figure out you must be having a nightmare of some sort. “It’s just a dream,” he whispers soothingly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You’re safe here with me.”

He gently takes your slightly trembling hand and holds it gently in his. “I’m right here, __,” he sighs softly. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

Taehyung isn’t sure how much time passes before your restlessness stops, but he stays awake, hand clutching yours until it does. Eventually, assuming you’ve finally entered a more peaceful sleep, he releases your hand and rolls onto his side.

What he doesn't expect is for you to unconsciously follow him over, your body snuggling against his back. The warmth of your body against his is comforting, but he knows he can't let you stay there and risk any awkwardness in the morning. So with the utmost care, he rolls over to face you and gently adjusts your body until you're lying comfortably on your back again.

"I hope you'll be able to sleep better now," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the storm. "Goodnight."

Following the reunion, you and Taehyung part ways with mutual thank-yous and promises to see each other soon.

Time seems to vanish afterward as you find yourself increasingly buried under an endless pile of work projects. Apparently, over the weekend, a notable investor reached out to your company with hopes of setting up a meeting.

Namjoon is nearly tripping over his words when he relays the message to you.

"Can you believe it?" Your secretary stands within a foot from your desk, excitement evident in his voice. "They want to meet with us! This could be huge for our company."

You share his enthusiasm but your need to remain holistic in the matter tempers your ability to feel overly zealous. Meetings with investors always carry significant opportunities; however, there's no guarantee a deal will be struck. Truthfully, it depends on a number of factors, their level of interest outweighing them all.

Plus, every meeting requires extensive preparation—late nights where you tirelessly hunch over your computer, perfecting every detail of the pitch and this one promises to be no different.

"Did they happen to mention a time or date for further discussion?" you ask, matter-of-factly. Namjoon nods, pulling out his phone.

"Yes, they suggested next Wednesday at 10 AM.”

You weigh the proposal in your mind. “That should give us enough time to get everything in order, then,” you conclude. “Please put it in our calendar and let them know we’ll be ready to meet on that day.”

From then on, the remainder of your week unfolds exactly as you anticipate—relentless preparation, long nights, and meticulous planning until the small of your back aches for relief. One might say it's an exaggeration, but the only breaks you can afford are for primal necessities like eating, sleeping, and using the bathroom.

Even your weekend is spent within the walls of your home office, a far cry from previous weekends when you used to visit the book café or meet up with Taehyung.

Speaking of which, you haven’t really gotten to see each other since his family gathering and though it was only a week ago, the lack of his presence leaves you feeling a bit disheartened. He replied to your text yesterday, but even so, it was brief—something about a new project or talk show interview was keeping him busy as well.

By the time Wednesday arrives, your neck is so riddled with the stress of the upcoming investor meeting that you can barely focus on your proposal notes. Everything in you hopes that the investors will be impressed enough to partner with you, but thinking about it does nothing except heighten your nervousness.

In search of some kind of solace, your mind wanders to Taehyung instead. The memory of the small dance you shared with him on the beach is once again vivid, as if it happened just moments ago—the soft sand beneath your feet, the sound of the waves, and the way his gentle hands gripped around your waist.

But why does this memory, out of all the possibilities, feel so soothing?

You've been struggling to come to a plausible conclusion since the day it happened, yet deep down, you know it’s not as trivial as it seems. You miss it, your subconscious hums, you miss him.

Just then, Namjoon pokes his head into your office, signaling that the investors have arrived in the conference room. You send a curt nod in reply and gather your notes, refocusing your mind on the task at hand; everything else will have to wait.

Turns out, you might have been a bit too pessimistic about the investor meeting. They’re surprisingly pleased with your plans and proposals, nodding along to each of your points. However, their request for a day or two to reach a final decision catches you a tad off guard.

Rather than grapple with the uncertainty though, you decide to mentally prepare for whatever comes next... starting by decompressing at the bar downtown, a glass of their strongest alcohol in hand.

At first, finding a seat proves to be a challenge as you navigate through a sea of sweaty bodies. But luck, seemingly on your side, provides you with an empty chair at the far end of the bar. While you sit and order your drink, you can't help but wonder what Taehyung might be doing tonight. Should you text him to see if he’d join you, even if only for fifteen minutes?

Slipping your phone from the side pocket of your bag, you curse silently at your apparent haste. Your subconscious was right—you really have missed him, damn.

All at once, your thoughts are put to an abrupt stop when you take a quick glance around the bar, your gaze unprepared to land on two familiar silhouettes at the opposite end—Namjoon, with Taehyung next to him, drinks in hand. You don’t know how you failed to notice them before. They’re laughing, clearly enjoying each other’s company, and for a moment, your face lifts into a smile.

But that smile quickly fades when you catch sight of two women sauntering over to join them. Your initial joy is swiftly replaced by a sharp sting of jealousy and you chastise yourself for the feeling. Who are you to react this way? Taehyung can do whatever he wants—why should you care who he’s out with?

Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the group. It’s obvious that the taller of the two women, arguably as stunning as Taehyung, is laser-focused on him, her hand brushing his arm lightly as she laughs at whatever joke he’s just told. Probably a dumb one, you think bitterly; it's obvious she's not just there for the humor and booze. It's strange to witness, as you've only known Taehyung to allow a few, select women to touch him so openly—his mother, his onscreen cast members, and you.

Okay __, stop, you scold yourself. This is a bad idea; you’re getting too involved for your own good. Hastily, you finish your drink and head out of the bar, the cool night air brushing against your skin. If Taehyung goes home with her, it’s none of your business.

You're barely a few feet outside the bar's door when you hear commotion echo from a nearby alley. Alarmed, you whip towards the noise, your eyes widening in disbelief. There, in the dim light, you see your ex-husband doubled over, clutching his stomach, while a shadowy figure stands in front of him, fist clenched.

You’re not sure where the courage comes from, but within seconds, you're springing to action, racing towards the scene with a surge of adrenaline. “Hey!” you shout as loudly as you can. The attacker glances back, frazzled, then bolts into the night, leaving Jungkook hunched against the alley wall.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask frantically, rushing to his side and helping him to his feet. He flinches away from your touch initially, his face a mix of panic and agony. “It’s me, Jungkook. It's __. Can you hear me? It’s okay, I’m here,” you reassure him the best you can, hoping to ease him.

Jungkook takes a few shaky breaths, body still weak as he struggles to hold himself up against the wall. His eyes are glazed, and he seems disoriented. “I… I didn’t expect you,” he mutters, his voice strained.

Offering him an arm, you help him steady himself. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?” He nods weakly, and as you guide him towards the parking lot and into the light, you ask, "What happened back there? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Jungkook sighs, wincing slightly. “No, it’s... I’m fine. He was just a kid—no more than 21. Angry, probably a little drunk, and accused me of being the reason his father got fired. At first, I was confused, but then I vaguely recognized him as being one of our employee’s sons. Pretty sure it was my dad who fired his—I was probably just an easier target."

You both fall into a contemplative silence as you continue walking. Of course Jungkook's father, the chairman of the company, would be behind this, you think. Previous times spent with him had shown you how ruthless he could be when it came to the "well-being" of his company. Whoever the kid was, he probably had a right to be angry, but physically taking it out on Jungkook wasn’t justifiable by any means.

“You sure you don’t need a doctor?” you ask, glancing at him with concern.

He shakes his head dismissively, "Don't worry about me," he replies. "A couple of punches to the gut won't kill me. I think it's about time I head home though."

You nod in agreement. “Where did you park?”

He points to a spot on the far left side of the parking lot, and you nearly groan at the sight. “Did you have to bring your bike tonight?” you ask, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

Jungkook gives a weak smile, understanding the inconvenience of the situation. “Thought I’d ride it in case I needed to get somewhere fast,” he replies, his voice strained but with a touch of humor.

"Come on," you say, walking him toward your car instead. "We might not be married anymore, but there’s no way in hell I'm letting you ride your bike home in this condition. You can pick it up tomorrow."

Jungkook chuckles weakly. “Damn, and to think we were about to ride it together for old times’ sake. You used to be pretty good with my motorcycle back when you were my girlfriend, __." You roll your eyes, patience thinning. If this is another one of his sexual advances, you’re long over it.

"Yeah, well, that was before Taehyung’s accident scared me half to death," you retort. "And for the record, I was never your girlfriend. We went from work partners straight to I do." You open the passenger door and help him into the seat, giving him a gentle shove. "Now sit tight and no more motorcycle talk."

Jungkook leans back and raises an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Well, what are we gonna talk about then? It’s a twenty-minute drive to my place.”

You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, giving him the go-ahead to enter his address into your car’s GPS. “Are you really whining already?”

As Jungkook taps away on the GPS, you’re suddenly reminded of a series of past car trips you shared with him. It’s almost like déjà vu.

“Seriously, __,” he starts, allowing his playful demeanor to fade. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know we… well, we aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

From the corner of your eye, you observe the way he aimlessly stares out the window, unsure whether to meet your gaze.

"We may not be in the best place, but that doesn’t mean I’d just leave you there," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. A long pause follows afterward until the question that's been gnawing at you finally slips from your lips. "How's everything with the company?"

Seemingly unfazed, as if he’d been anticipating the question, Jungkook replies, “I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors.”

“Hard not to,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Well, it's um... it's a sabbatical. I know it's probably a shock, right? My father isn’t too thrilled about it, so he’s delayed the official announcement until we reach a final consensus. But things have been... complicated. Our newest product launched recently, and it’s doing well, but now I think I need some time for myself. To take a step back.”

Well, shit.

Even with all the rumors, you never would have guessed in a million years that the truth of the matter was an impending sabbatical. Jungkook has always been the type to work himself until his hands bleed, so this is the last reason you expected to hear.

“I’m glad to hear you’re finally letting yourself have a break, but honestly, it doesn’t sound like you at all. Feel free not to share, but what do you mean by ‘complicated’?” The way he frames it sounds almost ominous.

“You really want to know?” He finally glances at you for the first time since getting into the car, his eyes carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“Only if you want to share,” you reply cautiously.

He looks down at his hands, gathering his thoughts. “So, remember when we last saw each other a few months back? Well, I’ve been reflecting a lot on our relationship since then. I know I wasn’t fair to you, __, and I really wish I could take it all back. You never deserved any of it. I was incredibly selfish and I’m truly sorry.”

You remain silent, thrown off by how quickly everything circles back to your fragile past together. Still, you allow him to speak.

"Before we parted ways, you suggested I see a professional, and… I thought I'd finally take your advice for once. It’s strange because I’d never gone before, but…”

He pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m starting to understand a lot about myself—why I react the way I do and how I handle things. It’s been tough, but I’m trying. I guess I’m taking this sabbatical because I need to figure myself out, away from work, so I can be better and stop hurting people around me."

For the first time in a long time, as you listen to your ex-husband, you realize he's beginning to sound genuinely mature. If it's true that he's been seeing a therapist and taking a sabbatical to prioritize his well-being, then you're extremely proud of him.

Yet, a small part of you remains stubborn, wishing he had made these changes earlier—imagine where you might be now if he had.

“Thank you for being open enough to share this with me," you respond slowly, careful not to misspeak. "Though I’m still a little surprised, I have to say I’m really proud of you for seeking help. I’ve been seeing someone as well, and it took me some time to settle in too, but I suppose that’s part of the healing process—being uncomfortable to an extent. We’ve had our share of challenges with one another, but despite everything, I’ll always wish the best for you, Jungkook—including your health and mental well-being.”

As you pull into the driveway of his house, parking the car near the front door, Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to you, visibly affected. "It means a lot that you'd say that, __," he starts hesitantly, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes, and I understand if you can't forgive me completely. But I want you to know that I am sorry. I wasn’t fair to you and I'm not proud of my behavior at all."

You nod in response, a small, tight-lipped smile forming. His remorse for the past is finally sincere, yet even now, as he looks at you with those hopeful eyes—the same ones you carried for months on end—you know he's searching for more than just your forgiveness.

But this time, you don’t think you can offer him more than that.

Because while you grew fond of him during your marriage, you've come to realize how unearned and misplaced that affection was. He broke your heart not once, but twice. And although you can never hate him, deep down, you can't ignore the lingering sting you feel when you're around him.

It's both sobering and eye-opening.

So, rather than reversing into old emotions, you simply say, "I believe you, Jungkook, and I think with time I'll be able to forgive you. If there’s ever a time when you’re in dire need of help, like tonight, I’ll do my best to be there. I’m afraid that’s as far as we can go, though."

It’s written all over his face that it’s not what he was hoping to hear, but respectfully, he doesn’t press further.

"I understand," he says, fingers reaching to for the passenger door handle. "Thank you again for being there for me tonight, and for driving me home. Please feel free to reach out if you ever need me as well. I hope for the best for you too, however and with whoever you choose."

The two of you exchange a brief look of gratitude before he finally pulls the door open and steps out of the car, making his way to his front door.

"Have a good night, and rest up," you call out to him. He smiles, gives a wave, and heads inside.

As you slowly back out of the driveway, you sigh, leaving only one person ruminating in your mind: Taehyung.

Then, inevitably, images of the stunning woman at the bar with him intrude your thoughts, stirring a deep, unsettling emotion within you.

Does it really matter that much who he's out with?

Are you really that jealous about it?

Mentally, you go back and forth as if plucking petals from a large sunflower… Yes. No. Yes. No. Until—Silence.

You can't seem to give a straight answer. It's like the closer you and Taehyung grow, the more undefinable and knotted your feelings become. Yet, the further apart you are, the more unnatural it feels...

Well, your indecisiveness doesn’t get any better by Friday because, finally, after what feels like an eternity, you and Taehyung have plans.

You’re heading out for dinner at a restaurant of his choosing tonight, as he insisted you go somewhere new. Where could it be? You have no clue, and while surprises aren’t usually your thing, his enthusiasm when you confirmed plans earlier has left you intrigued. There’s also this faint, inexplicably giddy feeling in your stomach that won’t go away, coinciding with a slight nervousness.

With such a seemingly important occasion, you find yourself in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting from side to side in what’s probably the fifth outfit you’ve tried on. But nothing seems to fit quite right. You’re feeling especially frustrated to be frank, as something that usually takes you twenty minutes is turning into a whole hour.

You end up tossing one final dress over your head—a bit more elegant for the occasion, but it’s one of the few items you own that accentuates your body down to the last detail. The dress hugs around your waist and falls just above your knees, its rich color perfectly complementing your skin tone. But isn’t it a little revealing? The neckline dips down further than you remember.

Crap—the alarm on your phone suddenly chimes, reminding you that Taehyung's arriving in ten minutes. You're running out of time.

"You’re being ridiculous. It’ll be fine,” you reassure yourself, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. “You're just friends. He won’t care.”

“Friends” stings more than you anticipated, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a deflated feeling in your chest.

Nevertheless, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, apply a quick swipe of lipstick, and head downstairs. Just as you finish slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse from the coat rack, the doorbell rings, causing your heart to leap from your chest.

Deciding to rip it off like a band-aid, you toss open the door, and there he is—standing on your doorstep with his signature boxy grin and gently tousled raven hair. Taehyung's dressed in a tailored blazer and matching slacks over a crisp white t-shirt, and you find yourself at a complete loss for words as if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around him.

Maybe it’s something in the air, but he appears equally stunned, looking you up and down with wide eyes. His gaze soon softens into admiration as he takes in your entire appearance. “Wow,” he chokes, clearly impressed. “You look amazing.”

You feel a rush of warmth at his compliment and muster all your strength to keep from looking away flustered. “Thank you,” your voice wavers slightly. “You look pretty great yourself.”

Tongue in cheek, he replies with a playful smirk, “I was hoping you’d say that,” which prompts you to lightly punch him in the arm.

“Don't be arrogant.”

He chuckles, rubbing his arm with a grin. “Shall we head out?”

You nod and step outside, locking the door behind you.

The drive to the restaurant is a brief one, and you're immediately struck by the charm of its exterior when you arrive—stone walls, covered with vines of ivy and warm glowing lanterns. Inside is even more beautiful, with wooden shelves lined with old books and bottles of fine wine wrapping around the room. You're starting to understand why Taehyung was so insistent on bringing you here; the place perfectly reflects his taste and, unexpectedly, yours as well.

One of the hosts leads you to a deep mahogany table after confirming your reservation. The closer you get to it, the more you notice the crisp white linens and small tealight candles that sit on top, setting a romantic scene. If you had to describe the feeling, it would be as though you’ve been transported straight to a quaint corner of France.

"So, what do you think?” Seated across from you, Taehyung looks at you with bated breath. His fingers fidget with the edge of the table, nervously anticipating your verdict.

“Honestly? It’s so charming,” you reply, glancing around in awe. “I didn’t even realize we had a place like this around.”

At this, his demeanor relaxes, and a pleased smile spreads across his face. “It’s a bit hidden, but once I found it, it quickly became one of my favorite spots.” He pauses, then adds, “This is actually the same restaurant I wanted to take you to months ago, before my accident.”

“What? You’re serious?” you blink in shock as the realization slowly sinks in. You take another look around the restaurant—the rows of books, the bottles of wine, the elegant dining atmosphere—and suddenly, it all makes sense. How did you miss it before? “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” you say softly, regretful of having turned down his offer before.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung's quick to reassure you, reaching out to lightly touch your hand. “What matters is that we’re here now. And honestly, I’m just happy to finally share it with you.” He gives you a warm smile, and immediately, you feel a small lump form in the back of your throat.

“Thank you for bringing us here tonight,” you say, “It’s wonderful, and I’m really glad we could make it up.”

“Of course,” he replies, “I thought it was a place we’d both enjoy.”

Everything about his responses seems to carry a heightened level of endearment and attentiveness, as if there’s more hidden beneath them.

Perhaps selfishly, you also sense there’s something uniquely special about this night—something you believe only exists between the two of you. So, when Taehyung retracts his hand, you feel a fleeting instinct to reach out and grasp it again, but you stop yourself short.

What are you thinking? This isn’t a date.

Needing a distraction, you grab the menu and start scanning the options.

Taehyung sees the way your gaze drifts and tilts his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Everything alright?” he asks gently.

You nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “I'm just getting pretty hungry with all the food I smell.”

He chuckles, "Same here," then picks up a menu of his own.

The two of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, fixated on the food and wine list. You find yourself stealing glances at him from time to time, and unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

After the waiter takes your orders, Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. “How’s everything at work been? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Your face lights up at this. “Highs and lows," you reply, voice brightening, "but we got some exciting news today. I met with a potential investor earlier this week, and they’ve agreed to partner with the company. It’s a big win for us!”

Sharing your enthusiasm, Taehyung raises his wine glass, implicating you to follow suit. “This calls for a toast,” he says. “I know it must have meant long nights for you, but I’m so glad they recognized the value of you and your work. Seriously, __, you should be incredibly proud of this!"

You clink your glass with his, a light chuckle escaping you. There's something uniquely satisfying about sharing even the smallest things with him.

The conversation flows more comfortably from there, with Taehyung eagerly asking about the details of your new partnership. You reciprocate by asking about his current work projects, and soon, you both get lost in discussion, naturally causing your conversation to grow increasingly spontaneous. By the time your food arrives, the two of you must have easily covered fifty topics.

With the evening gradually becoming one of the most enjoyable you’ve had, the initial butterflies you felt at the start almost fade away... almost. That is, until you near the end of the meal and Taehyung looks at you with a seriousness in his eyes.

“I’m really glad we could do this tonight," he says, "We’ve both been so caught up with work lately that we haven’t had much time to spend together… I’ve missed it."

"Missed..." The simple six-letter word echoes in the back of your mind in a hushed murmur. It feels nice knowing you aren’t the only one affected by the recent distance.

“Me too,” you reply, more breathy than intended. Before you can fully process your words, you find yourself adding, “I’ve missed you a lot myself.”

A flush of embarrassment twists in your stomach the moment the words leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have said it like that—it almost sounded like… pining? God, you can’t even blame it on the alcohol at this point; you barely had one full glass of wine. Contrary to what you'd expect, Taehyung looks at you with a hint of shyness.

“You know,” he begins, briefly eyeing your dress, “you really do look great tonight. I’ve been a bit worried these past couple of weeks, seeing how much you work and how little sleep you get. But now… I'm relieved to see you looking so well.”

You blush. If only he saw you before tonight—greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, and oversized sweats on, you think. Evidently, tonight was an exception.

"I guess I've been worried about you too if I’m being honest,” you admit, shifting slightly in your seat. "The last time we saw each other was at your family reunion. It feels like it was ages ago for some odd reason."

“I know what you mean,” he says softly, gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than usual. “It’s strange going so long without seeing each other. It feels…unnatural.”

All at once, you pause, unsure if you heard right. Did Taehyung really say "unnatural"? It’s exactly how you’ve felt about the distance this entire time, but you hadn’t expected him to feel the same. Your mind struggles to process the sheer coincidence and its possible implications—was there something more to your relationship than you had realized?

While you try to make sense of it all, Taehyung’s raspy voice pulls you back to the present. “Well, uh, we should probably head out,” he suggests lightly, breaking the silence. You nod in agreement, though it does little to deter you from your thoughts.

You find yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress the entire drive back, occasionally glancing at Taehyung in silence. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road, yet you could’ve sworn his mouth parted at one point as if he was about to say something. But then, he held back. You wonder what he might’ve wanted to say, but you’re no better—hesitant to breathe a word yourself.

Why are neither of you speaking all of a sudden? It feels tense and unfamiliar.

In what feels like a blink of an eye, you're standing at your front door again, Taehyung close beside you. The space between you feels smaller this time, with unspoken words still lingering, but it’s clear that despite having your keys in hand, neither of you are ready to part ways just yet.

“__?” He speaks first, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?” You respond, turning to face him fully.

Taehyung takes a deep breath when you do, his usual warmth replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression. “There- there's something that’s been on my mind,” he begins, voice trembling slightly. “I've been going back and forth tonight on whether or not to tell you."

“Okay, what is it?” you ask, pulse quickening.

“It’s about us..." He hesitates, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly before continuing. "Earlier tonight, when I said I've missed being able to see you, I wasn’t lying. If anything, it was likely an understatement because, no matter how busy I was, I kept thinking about you—our time at my parents' place, and how you always came to visit me when I was in the hospital."

He pauses, his fist clenching nervously.

"I’ve realized since then that maybe the reason why is because somehow…you've always been more than a friend to me,” he confesses softly.

Searching your face for a reaction, Taehyung mistakes your blank expression for discomfort. Little does he know, however, that your stillness is merely due to shock, as every nerve in your body threatens to awaken. It feels surreal, you think. Sure, you had a small inkling that tonight felt different and Taehyung was sweeter than usual, but eighty percent of you chalked it up as nothing more than overthinking or projection.

Now, you realize how short-sighted you’ve been, convincing yourself that you could only ever be friends and denying the rest when it's been quite the opposite.

“I’m sorry," he adds sheepishly. "It must be a lot to take in. I don’t want to lose you or our friendship, but with my feelings growing, I think I’ll always want more. I thought it would be better for you to know.”

You see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, and though he patiently waits for your response, you’re unsure where to start. It’s not that you question Taehyung’s genuineness or intentions, or that you don’t reciprocate his feelings—you haven’t shared such a deep connection with someone in a long time, if ever.

Rather, it’s the years of a mostly apathetic marriage that leave you feeling wary.

What would a relationship with Taehyung be like?

Would you truly love each other?

For how long?

What startles you most is the possibility that if you and Taehyung really do this and it doesn’t work out, you’ll be left even more devastated than before.

When you finally speak, your voice wavers slightly. “To tell you the truth, a big part of me is relieved that you told me all of this,” you admit slowly, your hands clammy. “I thought I sensed a shift between us at your parents' and again this evening. But I also thought I was reading too much into things, convinced it was just us getting closer as friends do."

"I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong because I've been wanting more with you too," you continue. "It's like the further away we are, the worse I seem to feel, and I can't help but wonder what it would look like if we were more than friends. The thought scares me as much as it excites me, though…for reasons I'm sure you already know."

You're uneasy about how he'll react until, all at once, his eyes fill with warmth and his hands gently reach for yours, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs.

“Do you remember when we were at the beach and you asked who’d risk it for you?” Taehyung asks. You nod, recalling the exact moment. “You also asked if I loved you, and I agreed to both that day. I didn’t realize how much those words would come full circle, but I meant it then, and I mean it now. I will love you, __, in the way you've always meant to be. I'm pretty sure I'm at least halfway in love with you already, and not just because we're friends."

Wordless, you stand facing each other, your hands still held in his, eyes steady in the brisk night air. His gaze then drifts from your eyes to your lips and back again. The movement is subtle, but in that brief moment, you let your eyes fall to his lips as well.

Taehyung’s waiting for your answer, but you can’t stop thinking of what would happen if you just…

Adrenaline takes over from there, and before you fully process it, you’re leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The sudden touch catches Taehyung off guard, but he quickly responds with gentle, tender kisses. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he deepens the embrace, one hand finding its way to your face while the other rests on your back, pulling you closer.

Sooner than you realize, he begins deepening the kiss as well, eliciting small, breathy moans. At this point, you can feel the tent forming in his trousers, but he makes no move to grind into you yet. Rather, the hands that grip around you tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough that your body pushes further against his firmer chest. You suspect your back will meet the hard surface of your front door within the next three seconds, allowing your entire neighborhood a show, but before then, you're interrupted by a subtle stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, I'm sorry-" you suddenly break the kiss, a rush of nerves returning. It’s been a long time since you’ve shared such meaningful kisses with someone, and the intensity of it has you feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry," you repeat.

When Taehyung sees you aren’t backing away but rather standing completely still, he settles his hands around your waist, gently drawing you further into a soft embrace. "You don't need to apologize," he assures. "I'm the one who took it further than I should've when I want this to be comfortable for both of us.”

You take a small breath, "You didn't do anything wrong, Tae, I'm just a little nervous due the newness of everything. I think I’d be best if we wait before going any further tonight….but I’m also not ready for you to leave yet. Is there any way you could maybe come in for a bit? To lounge?”

Taehyung nods, “I completely understand wanting to wait. The last thing I want to do is rush anything.” Concerned about possibly pressuring you, he adds, "Are you sure about me coming in though? It's getting late and I don't want to keep you up."

"Please," you murmur, "just for a little while, if you can.”

“Okay," he agrees, thumbs brushing lightly against your sides, "I can stay."

a/n: ajdfhg, TYSM for reading!! Love you all 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[messylustt]

i had this on top of my mind today

imagine ethan with a huge crush on y/n, having all these fantasies on her. once a week they would call each other for econ homework, but that day he's just too horny so he gets off to her voice. y/n is too oblivious, he would be palming himself through his pants. his breath becomes a little too loud and she kind of guess what's happening and takes advantage of it to tease him/make him embarrassed.

this makes me feel things

a little help — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : ethan can’t help but get off to your sweet voice.

male jerking off. teasing. innuendos. ethan has fantasies. wc 2.0k

Ethan felt slightly embarrassed with how eager he picked up the phone His heart was already beating fast as your sweet voice filled his ears.

"Hey, Ethan!" You smile, placing your assigment and study papers on your bed, as you got yourself settled.

"Hey, y/n." He says, a smile he can never force down appearing on his lips.

"Did you get the new assignement from this morning's lecture?" You ask, as you flip through your pages to find it.

Ethan does the same, putting you on speaker as he placed his phone on the bed. "Yeah...I think so... yes." He says, placing the assignment details ontop of the rest of his work. "Why did Mr. Harold give out papers, instead of just sending it?"

"Ah, he's old, which can sometimes mean old-fashioned, I guess." You say, clicking your pen. "Oh my god, though did you see Sophie?" You chuckle, remembering the way she had tried to flirt with the poor old man, leaning forward as she pushed her breasts together.

"No...Sophie was in today?" Ethan knew of her vaguely as the girl who would fuck for good grades. But his focus had been on you in econ, sparing glances down your body when you weren't looking.

"How could you not notice?" You ask, shifting more comfortably on your bed. "I was scared her tits were gonna fall out."

Ethan stiffened at your words, and not because you had mentioned Sophie's tits, but because the his mind wandered to your own, and how he'd always have to readjust in his seat when you'd wear a tight top. Wondering how they'd feel in his—

"We should get started." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I barely understood Mr. Harold."

"Uh, yeah." Ethan coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What part didn't you get?"

"The third paragraph, where he talks about the inflation and economic growth. His question after confuses me. I'm not sure what he's asking us to answer." You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Ethan furrows his own for an entirely different reason.

For some reason your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants. Christ, not now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, answering your confusion, as you hum with an "ah, that makes makes more sense."

Ethan's mouth has salivated, as all his built up fantasies of you fill his head. "So, when he spoke on analyzing the economy as a system, the list he followed on from..."

Ethan doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much more breathy, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, licking at his cock, as your innocent eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head.

"...he could have meant that these are the elements," you had continued, completely oblivious to Ethan's wandering hand.

He couldnt help it. He palmed his cock, as he listened to you speak. You always spoke so pretty. He could imagine your confused expression as you spoke on your problems. He began to rub himself, restricting himself to just over his pants, as he bit his lip.

He won’t do more. Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy.

His breathing had grown heavier but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions.

“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask. You were there to help each other, not him only help you.

Ethan had to spare a glance at his work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need.

His cock was rock hard, and his mind was beginning to cloud over with lust, and want for you. “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching the button of his jeans, as he pulled the zipper down.

It was shameful, but he just couldn’t help it. “Okay, do you mind if I ask another question?—sorry I just saw it now.” You ask as Ethan absentmindedly nods wanting to hear you speak more, before he manages a ‘sure’, trying to act casual.

“Great, thank you,” and you began to speak on either the 8th or 9th paragraph as Ethan stuck his hand in his pants, feeling his pre-cum practically staining his boxers.

He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you deep throat him immediately. Ethan’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm.

His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Ethan grows lost in your tone as his cock twitches.

“Ethan?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure.

“Yes?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling.

“Are you…okay?”

Your question makes him halt-much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”

“You sound out of breath.” You say, behind the line trying to think of why. Because he can’t be running, he’s in his apartment with his papers on his bed like you.

“I’m not.” He coughs.

You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Ethan’s lips. You had to be mistaken, because that noise sounded like one due to pleasure.

Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…

“Ethan.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again. “What are you doing?”

Ethan curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying. Going over the study. Like you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s want to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm.

“Ah huh.” You hum, unconvinced. “And you’re sure you have no questions?”

“No. No, I’m all good.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly began to stroke himself again, his cock angry.

“No questions for me?” You ask now instead. Slowly coming to the definite realisation of Ethan jerking off.

“What do you mean?” Ethan asks, your tone going straight to his cock.

“Oh, nothing.” You hum, before you intentionally make your voice come out breathier, seeing what he’ll do. “Did I mention how nice your hair looked this morning?”

Ethan’s breath hitches as his hand quickens around his cock, seeming to have a mind of its own. “N—no.”

“Oh. Well, it looked really good, I just wanted to run my fingers through it constantly.” You pause hearing Ethan’s surprised whimper. “But that’s weird isn’t it, sorry.” You were teasing him now, your study forgotten.

“I—it’s not weird. You’re not weird. At all.” Ethan’s words are broken up by his panting.

“Aw, that’s so sweet, Ethan.” You hum, making Ethan’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke.

“Y—yeah?” His eyelids have begun to feel heavy.

“Yeah. Your always so sweet to me. Helping with my study, making sure I have a seat in econ.” You shift on your bed, debating on if you go bolder. “You’re also very good at studying, hence why you never have too many questions. You’re also very good at teaching, making sure I know what I’m doing. Your just such a good boy.”

Ethan chokes on a moan. This makes his eyes widen, because you definitely heard that. So he quickly goes to speak. “T—that’s sweet. Really sweet. You’re…really sweet.” His tone is still breathy though, as he imagines how sweet you really are…or taste.

“Am I?” You tease, as Ethan’s rapidly nods on the other line.

“Always so…sweet.” He says, his tone unintentionally dropping an octave.

“But I never seem to be able to help you.” You say. “I’m the one always asking questions.”

“That’s fine.” Ethan says. “I like hearing you talk.” He pauses, shit. “I—I mean, I like hearing your questions because then I can help you.”

A smile had edged your lips. “But that’s exactly it. You help me…” you drift off, speaking closer to the phone. “Let me help you.”

Ethan didn’t know what you meant but the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm. “W—with what?”

“Oh, you know, with many things.” You say, appearing innocent again. “One specifically would be your tension.”

Ethans chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My…tension?”

“Yeah.” You say lightly. “I’m very good at massaging.” You hold back a chuckle as you tease him.

“You’d give me a massage?” In Ethan’s mind that’s the closest he could get to you.

“Yeah.” You say. “I’d start with your shoulders of course, getting essential knots out.” You fake normalcy in the conversation.

“Then I might let my hands drift down your back.” You pause. “You’d have to lie down, so I could get a good angle.”

Ethan’s mouth has opened in pleasure at the thought of you touching him on the bed.

“I’d have to ask where feels the nicest, before I’d drag my hands down your body.” Your words were growing bolder and if Ethan’s mind wasn’t hazed over with lust he might have been able to pick out your innuendoes.

“Really?” He asks, his stroking quickening.

“Yeah. Though, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.”

Ethan moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?”

“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable—“

“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.”

You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear Ethan’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.”

Ethan nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release.

“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making Ethan’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.”

At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.”

“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through Ethans body. “W—what?”

“Come to my apartment.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm.

“No. You should—should come here.” He says breathlessly.

“Do you prefer yours?”

Ethan just wants to see you on his sheets, all his fantasies having happened on this bed. He wanted to make one a reality, even if it was just a massage.

“I just have all the extra study stuff here.” Not that he couldn’t easily bring it, but he ignored that, and so did you.

“See, you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you.

When the pleasure slowly ceased he heard words he never thought you’d utter. “Maybe next study session I could jerk you off?”

“W—what?” He chocked. Fuck, of course you had heard him. By the end he was being pretty obvious.

“Yeah, Ethan.” You grin. “Let me help relieve some tension.”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[rax-writes]

↬ when night falls

Tywin Lannister x Reader

intended to be a sequel to the morning after, but it's not necessary that you read it prior to this

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ ONLY ⇆ P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, nipple play, bit of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, pregnant!reader

The journey from Winterfell to King's Landing took considerably longer than necessary, given the Queen's insistence that she travel in that godsforsaken carriage of hers. As such, five weeks after your marriage to Tywin Lannister, you were spending one final night in a lavish red and gold tent alongside your lord husband.

For the entirety of the journey, the two of you spent the entire day apart – your horse trotting behind your father and King Robert, and Tywin a short distance behind, alongside Ser Jamie. Occasionally, Arya would pester you into allowing her to sit in front of you on the saddle, as you quietly conversed with her and taught her how to control the horse. But, aside from that, you were alone with your thoughts all day, every day.

The nights, however, were spent in the arms of your lord husband.

The two of you quite quickly developed a very… peculiar dynamic. You had quickly learned and adapted to the way the fearsome Tywin Lannister operates – preferring you speak concisely and directly, vehemently uninterested in anything otherwise. Additionally, there was a degree of mutual respect, as well as a vaguely guarded openness to one another – but certainly no love, or any semblance of romantic feelings at all. In truth, you assumed there never would be.

But gods was there lust.

On your end, it was your first and only experience with sex, and it was undeniably good, so you were eager for it. On his end… you couldn't be sure. It could be that the man was pent up from years as a bachelor, but it would be safe to assume he had simply sent for a whore when the mood struck him. A more likely reason would be his pursuit of an heir, but surely he wouldn't have needed to fill your cunt nightly to achieve that goal. No, you were almost certain that he was simply enjoying fucking you – just as much as you were enjoying fucking him.

When Tywin entered the tent, you were sitting on the edge of the cot, toying with the goblet in your hands, already undressed to your shift. He met your eyes as he entered, but said nothing, that unreadable (but somehow always leaning toward annoyed) expression on his face. He silently began taking off his boots, then removed his sword and placed it beside the cot. He was in the middle of pouring wine into his goblet when you found the courage to ask your question.

"Will you stop bedding me when I become pregnant?"

Tywin said nothing, setting the pitcher down and turning to face you as he took a sip of his wine. He wore that calm, calculating expression as he stared at you – but you could swear there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. The golden goblet made a faint clank as he set it down before speaking.

"Do you ask because you wish for me to stop? Or because you wish for me to continue?"

"I wish for you to continue."

"Then I shall continue," Tywin stated, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Good," you replied, then added, "Because I am."

"You are what?"

"Pregnant."

The smile dropped and Tywin's eyebrows raised, making his forehead crinkle.

"Already?" he inquired dryly, surprised. Then, incredulous, he asked, "How do you know?"

It was a fair question. You had never been pregnant before, so perhaps you were mistaking soreness and fatigue from travel as signs of pregnancy. But no. You knew.

"I should have bled three weeks ago, but I have not. My breasts are extremely tender, and certain smells make my stomach turn."

Tywin nodded, then stated, "I do not doubt that you are right, but we will have a Maester provide his confirmation and look you over when we arrive in King's Landing. In the meantime, is there anything you need?"

A faint but wicked smile spread across your face, and you stood from the bed, setting the goblet down as you slowly made your way over to him. The metal of his armor was cold beneath your fingers as you idly ran your hands over his chest, before toying with the belt around his hips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"You," was your simple answer. But both of you knew that it wasn't meant in a romantic, sweet sort of way.

Tywin's hand reached up to cradle your face, somewhat harshly, hooking his thumb under your jaw to tilt your head up and kiss you. It was lustful and full of desire, accompanied by the scratch of his beard upon the delicate skin of your face.

When he pulled away, Tywin smiled quite faintly, then hummed lowly and said, "Well, what sort of man would I be to deny his pregnant lady wife her wish?"

The old lion made quick work of removing his armor and smallclothes, and relieving you of the thin linen shift you wore, before guiding you to the luxurious cot. Tywin continued to kiss you, eventually trailing kisses down your neck, until he reached your chest, unexpectedly taking one of your breasts into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

The sensation nearly made you shout, opting to take in a sharp breath instead as your back arched off the blankets. Eyes squeezed shut, you heard a low chuckle, and looked down to see a set of very amused, crystalline eyes staring up at you.

"Hm, I see you were not exaggerating about the sensitivity."

Electing to ignore him, you let your head fall back onto the pillow. However, it seemed he did not intend to grant you any reprieve, moving to the other breast and doing the same thing – prompting you to dig your nails into his shoulders and bite your lip to avoid crying out. Unfortunately, that made matters worse, as Tywin let out a low groan with his lips still wrapped around your nipple, earning a loud, pitiful whine from you.

Seemingly enjoying himself, Tywin began peppering your chest with gentle bites, which he soothed with his tongue afterwards, sure to become small little bruises by morning. Breathy moans and sighs of pleasure filled the tent, as he then resumed his ministrations on the hardened peaks of your breasts before snaking one hand down to toy with your clit, expertly rubbing it in small, steady circles. Astoundingly fast, your release washed over you, soaking his hand as you moaned and writhed beneath the Warden of the West – who only chuckled darkly at your quick climax.

Noticing that the continued kisses and licks upon your breasts began to make you twitch, Tywin captured your lips in a brief, rough kiss, before rolling onto his back. He then pulled you into his lap, with a strength one wouldn’t assume the older man to still possess – which was, admittedly, arousing. Your mind was still foggy from the orgasm, and your movements were not unlike a rag doll, eyes half-lidded and jaw slack, moving somewhat limply as you allowed him to maneuver you. He gripped his hard, leaking cock in one hand, then reached behind you to urge you forward with a flat palm on the small of your back.

A hiss through gritted teeth escaped Tywin, and you gasped lightly, head thrown back and hands flat on his chest. Although you’d already lost count of how many times he’d taken you, it still felt more incredible than anything you’d ever experienced. A passing thought reminded you of the fact that he seemed to share the sentiment, always hissing or groaning when he first sheathed himself inside you.

Tywin’s grip moved to your hips, prompting you to begin rocking them against his own, keeping your pace steady. However, he made no move to halt you when you eventually began to move faster, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs as you fucked yourself on his long, thick cock. The sound of it alone would have made a Septa drop dead – a symphony composed of wet skin upon skin and gruff grunts intermingling with breathy moans.

He reached up to grasp and knead your breasts in his rough, calloused hands – but he then surprised you, his hands drifting lower, until they rested flat against your lower stomach. You thought perhaps he was focusing on the movement of your hips, but then his thumbs began to stroke across the soft skin of your belly.

At first, it seemed very sweet and sentimental. You thought that perhaps he was basking in the joy of another child being on the way – until you felt the way his cock throbbed, deep inside of you, as he stared intently at your belly. Immediately, you came to the realization that it must be arousing for a man to have successfully fucked a babe into his wife – stroking their ego and their pride to have done their husbandly duty, as well as show everyone that you belong to them.

Truth be told, you were surprised to learn that it aroused you just as much.

Tywin groaned as you clenched around him, and when his eyes flicked up to meet yours, it felt as though he knew you had been thinking the very same thing he was.

That seemed to ignite something within your husband, and in the blink of an eye, Tywin flipped you onto your back and began driving into your soaked cunt with a newfound ferocity. You bit down on your knuckle to keep quiet, but Tywin pinned both of your wrists down, his arms on either side of your head. The act did not last much longer beyond that point, both parties having already been too near the precipice of climax, and the pair of you met your releases in unison.

Tywin rolled off of you, breathing heavily, a light layer of sweat covering his chest, along with the small patches of silver hair. You allowed yourself a few moments of recovery, before moving to leave the cot in order to extinguish the candles, as well as tidy yourself up. However, Tywin grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Where are you going?”

“The candles –”

“Can wait,” Tywin interrupted, voice sounding unbothered as always, albeit with a hint of fatigue. He exhaled slowly, as he gently pulled you back down to lay upon the cot beside him. “One of the guards outside can see to the candles in a moment. You are carrying my heir, so you are to rest. As much as is feasible, from now until the babe is born. And if anyone questions it, they are to discuss it with me.”

Anyone possessing the sense the gods gave a mule knows “discussing” something with Tywin Lannister was just the opposite – it was not to be addressed at all, because what Tywin Lannister says, goes. A fact which made you smile softly.

“As my lord husband commands,” you replied, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, but you did exactly as he bade you, pulling some of the blankets over you and nestling into the pillows. You were already yawning by the time Tywin called for a guard, who extinguished the candles, and bathed the room in darkness as you drifted into a deep, contented sleep.

[cheesecakeluver]

THE MORNING AFTER

hamzahthefantastic x reader

‎𐰁𖦹°⋆ When you wake up after a night out in a strangers bed, the two of you desperately try and figure out the events of that night, and how you ended up in his bed.

———————-

I stir in bed, awakening to a headache that pierces my skull. I shift in the covers lazily, snuggling into the warmth of them as cool air filtered the room.

Just as I’m near the the point of drifting back to sleep, I feel an arm drape over me. I sit upright immediately in shock, my eyes wide as they land across a dark curly haired man, who seems cosy in bed beside me. My mind begins racing, my heart beating uncontrollably fast as I stare at him, extremely confused, realising he was shirtless.

My eyes tear away from him, to the room surrounding me, and my jaw gapes wide open, as the room looking back at me wasn’t mine. The question running through my head, was how the fuck did i end up here, in this house, in this man’s bed?

Suddenly, the man in bed starts to stir, his eyes opening blearily as he wipes his curls away from his eyes, yawning softly, completely unaware.

That is, until his eyes adjust to the morning light peering through the window, and his expression becomes bewildered, stumbling out of the bed, wrapping the covers around his exposed body.

“Why are you in my bed? Who are you?” He exclaimed, his eyes widening as they scanned over me.

“I don’t know! I don’t even know who you are, or why I’m here, or.. even where the fuck I am!” I nervously ramble, my head in my hands as I avoid eye contact with him, my cheeks flushing pink.

He tilts his head as he continues to look me up and down with wide eyes, making me all the more flustered as i realised my attire, and the lack of clothes covering me.

“I was hoping that you’d be able to fill me in on what happened last night too” he asks, his breathing slowing down as he began to calm himself.

“My head is fucking killing me, and all I even vaguely remember is that one of my friends invited me to this party last night..” I recall, sitting down on the edge of his bed as I try and remember more of the previous night.

He slowly nods his head as you speak, smirking slightly as he gets a good look at you in your underwear.

“You and me both, this hangover isn’t fun”He responds, scratching the back of his head as he groans, feeling the effects of the alcohol from the night before still.

“Any more details coming back to you?”

I sigh, frustrated, until I get an idea.

“Wait, your phone. Where is it?” I ask frantically, thoughts and ideas flooding my mind.

He chuckles at my eagerness to be on his phone, clearly amused by it. He stretches to grab his phone that was charging on the beside table, handing it to me.

“There you go” he smiles, sitting down on the bed beside me, leaning back.

“Did you take any pictures last night, or post anything?” I question, giving the phone back to him so he could enter his passcode, my fingers dancing against his as I do, causing my heart rate to go up just that little bit faster.

He leaned in close to me, his muscular build now almost touching mine, grinning as he watched me fidget with my fingers as he enters the passcode. He opens up his photos, scrolling through photos and videos from the night before.

“I got a few, yeah” he mentions, scrolling through the dozens he had saved.

“Show me” i whisper, almost scared to look, just incase, as I lean closer to him, peering over his shoulder to face the small phone.

He snickers at how close I’ve gotten, obviously liking having my body practically pressed against his. He opens up one of the videos, showing a clip of me and him, clearly drunk, dancing together in the middle of the table.

I groan, running my hands through my hair as my cheeks flush bright pink, embarrassment overcoming me at my past, drunken self.

“Just.. skip to the next one” i cringe, hearing my past drunken self singing through the speaker.

He chuckles at my embarrassed state, thoroughly enjoying my reaction. He skips to the next video, where we see a video of me and him standing next to each other, and I’m clearly trying to balance myself on his much larger frame as i struggle to stand up straight.

I can faintly hear the sound of my girlish giggling over the music, making me feel like vomiting due to how much desperation leaked off of me.

He continues to scroll through the videos for a little while longer, showing us both in various compromising positions on the couch, floor, bathroom, even the kitchen. He smirks to himself as i become more flustered, before finally returning to the main camera roll.

“Well” he grinned, turning to face me, our faces merely inches apart.

“That explains a lot”

“Remind me never to go out ever again and keep myself locked up in my house forever” i groan, rubbing my eyes intensely until I begin seeing stars.

He laughs gently at my dramatic exclamation, as he reaches his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, enjoying how flustered i looked.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, trust me, we were both just as bad as each other” he sighs, leaning back again his bed once again.

A silence fills the air between us, not awkward, just comfortable as our minds race with different thoughts, and confusing conversations.

We both turn to each other, at the same time, speaking over one another.

“I don’t eve-“

“Listen I’m-“

We both pause, laughing slightly, until he motions his head towards me, and i go first.

“I don’t even know your name..” I admit, wondering if he ever told me it to begin with.

He chuckles as i admit that i don’t know his name, clearly amused by it.

“it’s Hamzah” he replies casually, before smirking.

“And what’s yours? other than the pretty girl that stumbled into my bed last night?”

Blush covers my face before I can help it, and I smile sheepishly. “It’s y/n. You’re so shameless” i laugh, slapping his arm lightly as he chuckles, his curls falling into his dark eyes.

He grins in response to my shyness, clearly enjoying my reaction to his shameless flirting.

He looks down at my arms as i slap his, taking my wrists in his hands, his fingers almost completely circling my arms.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered” he teases, knowing how to get a rise out of me at this point. How I wish I was sober enough to remember last night..

I freeze, memories from last night flooding my head as my heart begins to panic, beating faster and faster.

“I should probably, uh, leave. Get out of here, you know..” i say awkwardly, standing up from the warm spot on the bed beside him, and looking around the room for my discarded clothes, evidence of our interaction last night.

I’d never gotten this close with someone before, and certainly not a man I had met the night before. It was surreal, how easy it was to talk to him, but I knew I needed to slow down.

He watches me as i stand up from the bed, his dark eyes trailing all over my body, shamelessly appreciating the view. He lets out a light sigh, not making an effort to stop me.

“Yeah.. probably should”

He mumbles, also standing up, the sheets falling from around his waist to the floor, revealing his muscular bare torso, causing my heart to drop to my stomach, as was forced to peel my eyes away.

I grab the wrinkled clothes, throwing them on me, as I tug my shoes on. A part of me wished he wanted me to stay, but at this point, I’d felt as though I’d overstayed my welcome, and was sadly prepared to never see this man again, no matter how much I would yearn for it.

He stands there, in nothing but low hung sweatpants, watching me throw on my clothes, his muscular chest on full display, showing his broad shoulders and defined collarbone.

He notices my slightly flustered expression as i look up at him. He grins, clearly enjoying the way i was staring at him, before speaking up again.

“You really in a hurry to leave, sweetheart?”

“I’ll get out of your hair, stop bothering you. Just give me-“ i huff, struggling to get my shoe on.

These fucking converse would be the death of me.

He chuckles at my frustration, watching me struggle with putting on my shoe, still half naked as his strong arms cross over his broad chest. He watches me carefully for a moment as i struggle, before stepping forward.

“Let me help you, silly”

He grins, moving to kneel down in front of me, grabbing my foot gently and guiding it into the shoe.

I sigh, pink creeping in my cheeks as he got to his knees in front of me.

“Thank you, Hamzah.” I spoke, tasting his name on my tongue, and enjoying the way it felt.

He smiled to himself as i said his name, clearly enjoying how i sounded when i said it, evident by the expression on his face.

He finished helping me put on my shoe, gently setting my foot back down on the floor. He looked up at me from his knelt position, peering up at me with a sly grin, his face now even closer to my body than before. He slowly got up, bringing me with him, as we both stood facing each other.

“No problem” He replied, his hands finding their way to my hips, his calloused palms settling on the skin beneath my cropped shirt, as I began to feel as though I might melt under his touch.

I softly gasp, a little breathless, as his fingers dance their way further up my shirt, leaving a trail of fire as they did.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, causing us to fly apart, my skin cooling as his touch departs.

He groans, rolling his eyes as the doorbell rings, a look of annoyance crossing his face.

“Stay here. I know who that is. I’ll be right back” He mutters.

He quickly disappears out of the room, heading for the front door.

I’m still stunned from our interaction, but I follow him, not listening to his commands. I needed to see who was at the door. Who interrupted our moment..

He strides hurriedly down the hall towards the front door, still in nothing but his low-hung sweatpants.

After opening the door, and then promptly slamming it shut, he lets out a frustrated sigh, turning to head back to his room to get a shirt, but stops in his tracks when he sees me following behind him.

“I told you to stay in my room” He says, his eyes brows furrowing as his brown eyes glance over me, my dishevelled state.

“Obviously I’m not gonna do that, be real. Whose at the door?” I question, my voice unwavering as I roll my eyes.

He rolls his eyes in response.

“It’s my stupid friend, Martin. He’s probably just here to gloat at me about getting with a girl last night too” he shakes his head, rubbing his hands over his face briefly.

Relief floods from me, whether i wanted it to or not.

He sighs as he says this, seemingly annoyed by the idea of his friend coming over just to rub another hookup in his face.

“I’ll uh, get to going then..” i mutter, avoiding his eyes as I fix my short shirt on my body awkwardly. I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable between him and his friend, and I knew I was outstaying my welcome.

The.. interaction we just had, was maybe just that. An interaction.

He stands in front of me, looking down into my eyes. He could tell that i was a mixture of frustrated and disappointed from his friend interrupting us both, and he felt the same way.

He reaches a hand up to brush my hair behind my ear, just like how he did earlier.

“I’ll walk you out” he mumbles, unlocking the door.

I let out a breathe I didn’t know I was holding, and when he swings the door open, and his friend sees us, he smirks.

He groans at the sight of his friend’s smirk, knowing exactly what his expression was for.

His friend’s eyes dart to me as he looks me up and down, clearly taking in how i was dressed in last night’s clothes.

His grin widens as he notices my flustered expression.

Hamzah grabs my wrist, his touch enlightening me, and slides us past his friend, who enters Hamzahs apartment nonchalantly, slamming the door behind him.

Any more slams, and that door would be knocked off its hinges.

His friend lets out a chuckle that’s heard through the other side of the door, as Hamzah drags me out of the apartment quickly, obviously aware that he was annoyed with his friend’s presence, and trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He keeps a firm grip on my wrist as he pulls me outside, letting out a sigh once we’re outside and away from his friend.

I sigh, looking around at the exterior of the apartment building, and recognising it. “I can walk back to my place from here..”

He pauses for a moment, letting my wrist slip from his grip. He looks down at me, his face showing he was feeling frustrated by the fact that he knew this was the end of things, and that I was about to leave.

“Are you sure? it’s kind of late. you shouldn’t walk on your own”

I smile, giggling. “It’s 11am, Hamzah.” I remind him, the daylight shining on us in the cold autumnal air.

He groans, facepalming himself at his own stupidity, causing me to let out a small chuckle, appreciating how he cared for me, however small it was, before running his hand over his face, the reality of the situation finally setting in.

He looks down at me again, his dark eyes searching mine, desperately trying to look for an excuse to keep me there longer.

The silence between us is unfathomable, and I can’t take it anymore.

“I’ll maybe see you around Hamzah.” I finally speak, breaking the tension between us, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver, his arms not there to keep me warm anymore.

Hamzah watches me wrap my arms around myself, taking notice of the light shiver that passes through me. He sighs.

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime” He mutters bitterly, knowing it’s a lie the second the words leave his teeth.

I gently lean in, kissing him on the cheek, my warm lips on his cold face, as I smile, my heart heavy in my chest, and turn away from him, walking away.

As I take those steps, I can feel the weight of what just happened lingering in the air. It was brief, yet somehow profound, like a fleeting moment that leaves a mark.

I felt as though I had a connection with him, one that just wasn’t made too last. It was a moment, that I enjoyed, and appreciated in all its glory. But once a moment passes, you must let it move on.

I glance back, my eyes locking on his, catching a glimpse of his small, subtly sad smile, a reminder of the connection we shared, however little it was.

There's a bittersweet taste in my mouth, a mix of nostalgia and the realization that sometimes, moments are meant to be just that—moments.

———————-

He watches you walk farther away, his mind spinning in circles. He stands there on the sidewalk, his head swimming with a concoction of thoughts and emotions.

He couldn’t figure out why he was so reluctant to let you go, why he felt his heart ache in his chest watching you walk away.

He wanted to run up to you, to grab your hand and tug you back towards him, but just as quickly as the thought appeared in his head, it vanished.

Gone, not just for now, but for forever.

———————-

[anxietycheesecake]

I'd like to ask you a very fair question: now that they no-homoed nandermo, now that we know for certain we aren't getting any gay relationship, what makes wwdits so high quality rep over other shows that have gay sex jokes and throw a coming out in an episode? Is it because they're actually having gay sex? Because it's still just played for laughs and treated as less than the canonical straight relationships (also "haha they're pervs who'll fuck anyone" isn't peak bi representation, that said as a bisexual who is a perv who will fuck anyone). What did wwdits do that other similar shows haven't done decades ago to earn that queer media™ recognition and be packed with OFMD and good omens, two actual extremely queer shows with gays having feelings beyond horny?

Not to say I didn't enjoy the episode because I absolutely did (queerbaiting aside), and it's amazing if you find this resolution satisfying. I do too, to some extent (as a start rather than an ending, tbh). But after so many years calling out how they teased a queer relationship they never intended to portray and then hit us with homophobic "let guys be friends" rethoric (you don't have to be homophobic to say homophobic shit) and getting absolutely dragged for it... was it all worth it? Don't you feel a little TJLC? Aren't you kind of mad that nothing has really changed since the days of Sherlock and Supernatural? Or, even worse, that now showrunners can point at characters, go "haha these bitches be gay af" and get awards for queer representation?

I love wwdits, even when I hate it. Nobody forced them at gunpoint to write season 3 and 4 like that, or be purposefully vague about what they were going for, or teasing the possibility of nandermo all over the marketing. If things have continued to go like in season 1 and 2, I'd be more than cool with this ending. If they had gone "holy shit, we didn't want to make it seem like it'd actually happen, we just thought it was funny that they acted so gay" and course-corrected after season 3 instead of doubling down, I wouldn't even call it queerbait. Sometimes people making media don't know how it's going to be received and that's okay. It becomes bait when you refuse to clarify and after pulling all that shit you act like fans are insane for noticing.

So by all means, continue to enjoy wwdits. This show means so much to me and if it had remained a plotless sitcom without character development that is just meant to make me laugh, I'd call it one of the best comedies I've ever watched. It's just that, in retrospective, they took the show in a direction that made no sense for them, ran with it for far too long and then asked why people expected so much from a show that wasn't meant to have any depth, despite all the times they tried to make it look like they knew where they were going.

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

“You came.”

“As always, Harry Potter, your powers of observation astound,” the Dark Lord carps. “Care to explain why we’re both here?”

And there’s the million-dollar question. He hesitates for a moment, sticking his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting more. “You can feel it, yeah? Everything’s coming to a head.”

After staring for a few beats, Voldemort gives a terse nod.

Harry nods a couple times awkwardly in return, licking his dry lips. “So. We’re expected to fight, and at least one of us is meant to die.”

Voldemort tenses at his side. “If you intend to ask for mercy–”

“No, no,” Harry says, anxiously dragging a hand through his wild hair and leaving it even more of a mess. “I know there’s no middle ground, for either of us.”

His words catch in his throat, stuck in the anger and frustration and exhaustion of years of fighting and losing people with no real gain.

“But,” Voldemort prompts.

“But,” Harry agrees. “Have you ever ridden a Ferris wheel?”

Voldemort blinks and frowns at the apparent non-sequitur. He says, “I beg your pardon?” but the meaning is clearly ‘Are you mad?’

“Because I haven’t. My relatives,” and his voice breaks on the word because it’s only accurate in the most technical of senses. “Used to go to the local funfair every year. My cousin would always come back with candy apples and caramel corn and some gigantic plush animal he’d say he’d won.”

He smiles, but he can feel how ragged it is. “Fat chance, that. Guaranteed my uncle bought it for him.”

“Potter, what in Merlin’s name are you on about?” He’s apparently worn through Voldemort’s limited patience and the wizard is looking vaguely murderous.

“Right, sorry. Point is, I’ve never been, and I’m guessing you’ve never been to a funfair either. I doubt it was a priority at Wool’s.”

Voldemort’s wand appears in his hand and ‘vaguely’ has shifted quickly into ‘distinctly murderous.’

“Y’know, It’s funny what you fixate on when contemplating your mortality and what you’ll regret not having done when you die,” Harry continues quickly, trying to defuse the situation. “There are lots of things I haven’t done, and so many things I’ll miss. But I keep getting caught up on riding a bloody Ferris wheel, of all things.”

He’d considered asking his friends – he had. But it wouldn’t be new for Hermione, who’d had a pretty normal childhood, magic aside, and Ron wouldn’t get why it was important even once he’d wrapped his mind around the idea of a Ferris wheel. Ron had grown up with flying broomsticks, after all. 

“I thought about who else might understand why it meant something, and, well,” Harry huffs, shuffling his feet self-consciously. “Here you are.”

He refuses to look at Voldemort’s face – who knows what expression he’s wearing, but it’s probably derisive in the extreme – instead focusing on the Dark Lord’s wand in case he has to defend himself.

“You invited me to go to a fair with you,” Voldemort says levelly. “Because we’re going to battle to the death soon.”

Well, when he puts it like that.

(naïve melody)

[astriiformes]

Hi, i just learned about the scientific revolution in europe at school. Can you tell me why you dont think scientific revolutions exist? im curious!

So I feel like I have to lead with the fact that I'm kind of arguing two different points when I say scientific revolutions aren't really a thing

One is that I'm objecting to a specific, extremely foundational theory of scientific revolutions that was put forth by the philosopher Thomas Kuhn, which I think really misrepresents how science is actually practiced in the name of fitting things to a nice model. The other is that I think the fundamental problem with the idea is that it's too vague to effectively describe an actual process that happens.

It's certainly true that there are important advances in science that get referred to as "revolutions" that fundamentally changed their fields -- the shift from the Ptolemaic model of the Solar System to the Copernican one, Darwin's theory of evolution, etc. But there are historians of science (who I tend to agree with) that feel that terming these advances "revolutions" ignores the fact that science is an continuous, accretional process, and somewhat sensationalizes the process of scientific change in the name of celebrating particular scientists or theories over others.

Kuhn's model that he put forth in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (which is one of those books that itself stirred a great deal of activity in a number of fields) suggests science evolves via what he called "paradigm shifts," where new ideas become fundamentally incompatible with the old model or way of doing things, causing a total overturn in the way scientists see the world, and establishing a new paradigm -- which will eventually cave to another when it, too, ceases to function effectively as a model. This theory became extraordinarily popular when it was published, but it's somewhat telling who it's remained popular with. Economists, political scientists, and literary theorists still use Kuhn, but historians of science, in my experience at least, see his work as historically significant but incompatible with how history is actually studied.

Kuhn posits that between paradigm shifts there are periods of "normal science" where paradigms are unquestioned and anomalies in the current model are largely ignored, until they reach a critical mass and cause a scientific revolution. In reality though, there is often real discussion of those anomalies, and I think the scientific process is not nearly so content to ignore them as Kuhn thinks. Throughout history, we see people expressing a real discontent with unsolved mysteries the current scientific model fails to explain, and glossing over those simply because the individuals in question didn't manage to formulate breakthrough theories to "solve" those problems props up the somewhat infamous "great men" model of history of science, where we focus only on the most famous people in the field as significant instead of acknowledging that science is a social enterprise and no research happens in a vacuum!

Beyond disagreeing with Kuhn specifically though, I think the idea of scientific revolutions vastly simplifies how science evolves and changes, and is ultimately a really ahistorical way of thinking about shifts in thinking. Take the example of the shift from Ptolemaic, geocentric thought to the heliocentric Copernican model of the solar system. When does this supposed "revolution" in thought actually start, and when does it "end" by becoming firmly established? You could argue that the publication of Copernicus' De revolutionibus orbium coelestium in 1543 was the beginning of the shift in thinking -- but of course, then you have the problem of asking where Copernicus' ideas came from in the first place.

The "great men" model of history would suggest Copernicus was a uniquely talented individual who managed to suggest something no one else had ever put forth, but realistically, he was influenced by the scientists who came before him, just like anyone else. There were real objections to the Ptolemaic model during the medieval era! One of the most famous problems in medieval astronomy was the fact that assuming a geocentric model makes the behavior of the planets seem really weird to an observer on Earth, referred to as retrograde motion, which had to be solved with a complicated system of epicycles that people knew wasn't quite working, even if they weren't able to put together exactly why. There were even ancient Greek astronomers who suggested that the sun was at the center of the solar system, going all the way back to Aristarchus of Samos who lived from around 310-230 BCE!

Putting an end point to the Copernican revolution poses similar challenges. Some people opt to suggest that what Copernicus started, either Galileo or Newton finished (which in and of itself means the "revolution" lasted around 100-150 years), but are we defining the shift in terms of new theories, or the consensus of the scientific community? The latter is much harder to pinpoint, and in my opinion as an aspiring historian of science, also much more important. Again, science doesn't happen in a vacuum. Copernicus, Galileo, and Newton may be more famous than their peers, but that doesn't mean the rest of the Renaissance scientific community didn't matter.

Ultimately it's a matter of simple models like Kuhn's (or other definitions of scientific revolutions) being insufficient to explain the complexity of history. Both because science is a complex endeavor, and because it isn't independent from the rest of history. Sure, it's genuinely amazing to consider that Copernicus' De revolutionibus orbium coelestium and the anatomist Andreas Vesalius' similarly influential De humani corporis fabrica were published the same year, and it says something about the intellectual climate of the time. But does it say something about science only, or is it also worth remembering that the introduction of typographic printing a century prior drastically changed how scientists communicated and whose ideas stuck and were remembered? On a similar note, we credit Darwin with suggesting the theory of evolution (and I could write a similarly long response just on the many, many influences in geology and biology both that went into his formulation of said theory), but what does it say that Alfred Russel Wallace independently came up with the theory of natural selection around the same time? Is it sheer coincidence, or does it have more to do with conversations that were already happening in the scientific community both men belonged to that predated the publication of the Origin?

I think that the concept of scientific revolutions is an important part of the history of the history of science, and has its place when talking about how we conceive of certain periods of history. But I'm a skeptic of it being a particularly accurate model, largely on the grounds of objecting to the "great men" model of history and the idea that shifts in thinking can be boiled down to a few important names and dates.

There's a famous Isaac Newton quote (which, fittingly, did not originate with Newton himself, but can be traced back even further to several medieval thinkers) in which he states "If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants." I would argue that science, as an endeavor, is far more like standing on the shoulder of several hundred thousand other people in a trenchcoat. This social element of research is exactly why it's so hard to pull apart any one particular revolution, even when fairly revolutionary theories change the direction of the research that's happening. Ideas belong to a long evolutionary chain, and even if it occasionally goes through periods of punctuated equilibrium, dividing that history into periods of revolution and stagnancy ignores the rich scientific tradition of the "in-between" periods, and the contributions of scientists who never became famous for their work.

[loonylupinblack3]

Could you do fic for Mark Webber with wife reader? Just her being their children to the paddock and everyone quickly gushed over the kids. Both Lando and Oscar act like big brothers to them and felt very protective of the Webber's family. Would absolutely do everything the kids asked them to. So, there was chaos every time she brought them to the garage. But everyone wouldn't trade them for anything. Just something fluff and cute. Tag me later!! Thanks:)()

Pairing: Mark Webber x Reader

Warnings: extremely vague suggestive content

Summary: Mark brings you and your kids to the grand prix

A/N: was very fun to write this request, hope you enjoy <3

You fixed your son’s hat, turning it the right way and giving it a slight pat. Ever the moody nine year old your son Connor scowled up at you, batting your hand away.

“Now, is that the sort of way you treat your mother?” came your husband’s voice, accompanied with an arm around your waist.

You smiled as your husband finally finished getting ready and as your five year old daughter waddled behind him, ever the follower. Wherever Mark went, Lily went with him. You knelt down and picked your daughter up, the girl giggling and hugging your neck.

“Ready to go?” you asked your family, though it was Mark who answered, nodding his head and putting his hand on the small of your back, leading you outside to the car.

You buckled in Lily, Connor insisting he could do his seatbelt himself, and got into the passenger seat as Mark started the car. Lily was full of questions about her first grand prix event, a constant stream of words leaving her mouth at all times.

You answered them the best you could, though some of them were quite….. Unique questions.

“What if a dinosaur went on track during the race?” Lily asked, kicking her feet. “Would the race stop? Would people die?”

Lily looked a bit too cheerful at her words. Connor rolled his eyes at his sister.

“That wouldn’t happen, dinosaurs went extinct ages ago.”

You smiled at your son through the mirror. “Someone’s been doing their research.”

Connor smiled, puffing his chest out slightly. His early defiance was forgotten and he was looking quite pleased that you’d noticed his education on dinosaurs. 

“I learnt it at school. Also, did you know….”

You listened intently as your son explained his learnings of space, smiling at his excited rambling. Mark’s hand moved to your thigh, resting there comfortably. Your smile widened. You’d known Mark a long time, and during that time you’d figured out whenever Mark was happy he’d touch you. Like he felt contentment and touching you just mirrored his feelings. Like touching you was the icing on the cake, the perfect addition to his perfect feeling.

You looked at Mark with a smile. He noticed your gaze and smiled back, squeezing your thigh gently. 

“Also Mum,” Connor continued, “when we get to the race can we have a hot chocolate?”

Lily gasped. “Please Mum!”

You sighed at your children’s antics, and you knew sugar would just hype them up and then have them crash down, but how could you say no to them?

“We’ll see,” you conceded, which was basically a yes.

You arrived at the circuit, parking in the VIP car park Connor was all too excited to talk about as you walked to the grid. You held his hand as you walked, something Connor had complained about at the start but you were insistent. It was a crowded place and you didn’t want to lose him.

Mark was holding Lily, the girl curled up in her father’s arms. You smiled at the sight before listening to Connor, paying him the attention he expected from you as he swung your arms back and forth, chattering about his latest discovery.

Hefting Lily to one arm, Mark took your free hand and together your family walked into the paddock, receiving the sudden flash of cameras as people tried to get your attention. You held your son closer, feeling his hand squeeze yours in panic, though unfortunately he was used to this. You could see Mark doing the same thing for Lily, letting the girl hide her face into the crook of his neck.

When you’d passed the paparazzi, entering the VIP section of the grid where they didn’t have access too, Mark gently put Lily down and you let go of Connor’s hand, trusting the two of them to walk freely.

Mark held onto your hand more tightly, tugging you closer to him. You laughed, shaking your head, and Mark grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your head.

“Oscar! Oscar!” 

Lily started bolting forward, making your eyes widen and an immediate reaction to run after her seize you, but when your brain understood what she was saying your gaze travelled further and found the Australian driver grinning, arms out for your daughter.

Connor was quick to follow, running after his sister, and you and Mark shared a wry grin before walking after them. Lando appeared next to you from who knows where, giving you a tight hug.

“There’s my favourite F1 wag,” he murmured into your ear.

You laughed and hugged him back. “It’s good to see you too, Lando.”

The two of you pulled back just as Lily noticed Lando, letting a dramatic gasp leave her lips before she was running after him, Connor hot on her heels. You smiled, watching your two kids embrace Lando as Mark greeted Oscar, squeezing his shoulder.

As they talked you kept an eye on your kids, making sure they didn’t overwhelm Lando with their questions and chatter. The young Mclaren driver seemed to be doing just fine however, enjoying the conversation almost as much as the kids themselves.

Oscar walked over to you and you tore your gaze away from your children, instead focusing on your other child that Mark and you had practically adopted. Oscar gave you a grin and hugged you tightly, his figure towering over you slightly.

“Thanks for coming,” he murmured into your hair.

You pulled back, giving him a fond smile. “Of course. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

A faint blush spread across Oscar’s cheeks and you grinned, letting him go. Mark immediately replaced him, hand snaking to your waist and pulling you to his side.

“Mum! Mum!” Connor asked, running up to you. “Lando said he’d take us to the Mclaren garage. Can we go? Please.”

You smiled and nodded. “We can all go.”

Your kids let out a cheer and trailed behind Lando and Oscar who’d joined them, the two Mclaren drivers listening to your chattering children as they led them to the garage.

“How about you and me disappear somewhere?” Mark whispered into your ear, a devious grin on his face. “Lando and Oscar can mind the kids for a while.”

You turned to your husband and smirked, hands wrapping around his neck. “What did you have in mind?”

[hangesdarling]

the two of us — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You are the Female titan under Dr. Zoë's experiments, could it be that your relationship is growing to something more? CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, mentions of squirting, oral sex, some light angst, Erwin stirring conflict WORD COUNT. 2.3k A/N. this is part 2 of captive as requested by @coconutchan (hope u don't mind me tagging u hehe) (I just noticed that captive is also 2.3k words long lmaooo major coincidence xD)

"You're an extremely unethical scientist, you know that?" you managed to mutter in between the soft moans spilling from your lips, a hand clutching on the couch as Hange continued to spread you open for them. 

"That's a very vague way to say `Hey, Hange thanks for making me squirt four times in less than an hour,ʼ" Hange chuckled, raising their head a little to get a good look at your flushed face. Their breath breezed on your soak folds, their lips digging in to suck your clit once more. 

Your back arched, hips chasing the expanse of their tongue as they kept a firm palm against your inner thigh. They've been in this position for half an hour, head buried between your thighs. What started as a frivolous banter ended up with another intimate session as if you hadn't done it early that morning. 

"You're exaggerating," you argued, trying to ease down how much your legs shook as another wave of orgasm crashed right at your core. Hange smiled to themself, their tongue rolling on your insides to gather up the remnants of your release. When they sat up, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the sight of that perpetual smirk in their face, showing their smugness right after making you come. Hange was too aware of just how good you felt under their touch, their eyes reading at every rise of your chest or every soft moan you managed to slip out.

"I think your soaked skirt could speak for itself, sweetheart," they snickered once more, taking a good look at the mess under you before pulling down the skirt bundled at your waist. "You've been so good today despite your bratty attitude. I like it."

With that remark, you might have been tempted to kick their ass just as you sat up. Not only did they refer to your intimate sessions but also to the information you managed to give them so far. Hange fixed their creased shirt, their other hand leafing through the pages containing what they know about your abilities as a titan shifter. It was difficult to make you talk but Hange managed to pull through by asking the right questions and just enough charm. Hange lightly bit on the edge of their pen, eyes trailing down their list. 

"Hm, I wonder what else?" they thought out loud. Hardening, agility, stamina, speed, endurance... what else? 

"Flexibility," you butted on their train of thoughts, busy smoothing out your clothes with a firm palm. 

Hange glanced at you, eyes crinkling as they smirked, "Oh, I know that already." 

"How observant of you," you scoffed. 

Hange tilted their head, facing you as they spoke. 

"That's true and I know there are things you haven't told me yet."

"Those are things you should be finding out by yourself, Doctor." 

"I like it when you're difficult," Hange laughed, a brief hearty one from their throat. 

"Cause it turns you on?" 

"Oh, don't get me started with that," Hange grinned, flipping through the few pages for the last time. "Anyway, I still have experiments for you tomorrow."

Hange gave a soft pat on your hair, fingers lingering for just a moment before they stood up. 

"Rest for now, alright?"

As they walked out and disappeared behind the door of that lab, you wanted to ask where they would go, a subtle plea to tell you their whereabouts so you could drift off to sleep knowing that they would come back. But as the door shut closed and lights went off, you cursed at your vulnerability, trying to cut away the possible tether linking your heart to theirs. 

Hange is an enemy. Your enemy. 

You shut your eyes, squeezing out the lingering unwelcome thoughts, burying them in a place far away. But even at the edge of sleep, your mind snapped, pulling you out of a hazy scene of dream as the door opened once more. 

Light poured in, a blurring white at the edge spilling at the center table and some lab equipment was strewn at the side. You sat up, grazing over the figure's taller stature entering. Your hand felt for the shiv squeezed on the crevice in the couch, your body in alert stance as you felt that the person approaching wasn't Hange just from the heavier footsteps against the floor. The switch was flicked on, filling the room with light once more. 

Then there he was, the man you were warned about, the devil himself in the flesh: Erwin Smith. If it wasn't for his astute planning as the mastermind of the previous attack, you wouldn't have been on the couch of this lab, experimented by your enemies. 

Erwin greeted you with much politeness, a practiced formality of words carefully crafted for his prey. Your mind skipped over his pleasantries, focusing on the language in his eyes that his words couldn't hide. It was clear, even at the stray threads from his careful weaving that he only sees you as nothing but a weapon to be used later on. Even as he sat across from you with that friendly smile and conversational tone of interest, you couldn't put a sliver of trust in him. 

"To be honest, Dr. Zoë insisted on your stay here, Y/N," he said, a hand indicating the laboratory and your unrestrained hands. "Such a considerate move, bearing in mind that you are a trained soldier." 

He stood up, walking over to the lab equipment as if in inspection. Hange frequently used those tools and equipment but found no time to clean up the dusting wires powering the engine inside.

"Given this unrestraint opportunity, you could have tampered with the equipment without Hange knowing." Erwin ran a finger on the trail of dust before continuing, "But you see? Nothing was touched in here. No sign of infringement."

He looked back at you with a small, knowing smile and ever-perusing eyes. "Why is that, I wonder?"

"I shouldn't say anything that could be used against me, don't you think?" You swallowed the lump in your throat, hard eyes set upon him when truly your heart wanted to bury itself deeper as if doing so would get you off Erwin's perusal.

"Oh, right. Fair enough," he said but only stepped closer from where you sat. "However... I'm starting to think that a seasoned soldier such as yourself is falling for Dr. Zoë's charms."

And even before you could utter a rebuttal, he only stepped closer and continued, "Their charm is their greatest tactic next to their intellect. I would say that even a mindless titan would yield."

Followed by a humorless chuckle, a smile curled on the side of his lip.

"You, Y/N, you've become so obedient to them as far as I can see. Even someone as stubborn as yourself could be coaxed into submission, after all," he said, eyes gazing down at your stature. You felt indignant at how small you were from where he stood. 

Your tongue twisted into a knot, the outbursts you have for him clamped shut and swallowed into an endless pit. The anger bubbling up your chest could only transpire as a hard glare as he moved to open the door once more. 

"Anyway, I'll be taking my leave since I really had no business in here," Erwin waved, taking a step outside. "I'm glad Hange has made the couch cozy for you."

—

Anger. Is that what you should've felt from his words? Anger at his inner sneer, his subtle taunts, or perhaps anger at the truth that you have been so compliant to Hange's wishes. You've become too trusting, yielding with no questions asked to their words and touch. You've doubted their intentions to a certain degree but never acted upon that thought because no matter how much you denied the truth to yourself, Hange has already warmed your heart to let them in. You've fallen to whatever deception they have in mind. 

Your eyes pierced nothingness as you gripped the weapon right in your hands. Your thoughts crawled into your limbs, letting them think for you as the door opened once more. Hange was caught off guard as you pounced into them, knocking them on the floor and your thighs straddling their torso. A gasp escaped their lips as they felt all your weight pressing them down the ground, the shiv you were previously holding pointed perilously at the vein of their neck. Hange couldn't ask what brought them on your grip or even scan your face as your hair fell over your face. However, your tight and almost desperate grip on their collar became enough to subdue the questions flooding their mind. 

"Y/N?" Hange asked, eyes chasing yours for an explanation, an emotion to be understood. 

"You'll have to answer my questions or else," your voice was low and rough, Hange wondered if you'd cried or what had angered you so much to lose that calm voice they're familiar with. 

"I see you've made a shiv. Quite efficient of you. I didn't even notice," Hange remarked, trying to smile and ease themself down. Their palm rested on your thigh upon instinct, but the shiv only brought its tip closer to the flesh of their throat. 

"What do you truly want from me?" you muttered, voice threatening to break.

"Could you elaborate on that?" Hange asked as a slight confusion passed over their eyes. 

"You know damn well what I'm talking about." When you responded, Hange sensed your frustration, drawing a taut line only to be ripped out. 

What do you want from me? Hange thought over your question, their mind ramming one response they couldn't utter. They want to brush the hair off your face, alleviate the distrust forming around your relationship, or just hold your hand if you will let them. Hange threw their head back to the floor, lying on their bundled hair like spilled brown ink. 

"I want what every researcher wants, Y/N," Hange spoke softly. "Results."

"Sure, yes. Results from the experiments. Then retrieve the Female titan from me. That's it? I'm sure you won't stop on that." 

"You know I shouldn't tell you about that, right?" 

"And you know I can kill you right now if I wanted to," you shot back, your glowering eyes boring through them.

"I know, sweetie. You're aiming to puncture a major artery right there by the looks of it." Hange smiled softly in surrender, their other hand lying by their side as the other never left your thigh. Their body was too relaxed under you. Too submitting, too comfortable in knowing that you wouldn't hurt them. It only boiled you up inside, tempted to leave a crude mark on their neck just to make a point.  But you only let go of their collar, the tip of your shiv drawing in an unthreatening stance on their clothed chest. 

"I hate you," you muttered. 

"Listen to me, Y/N." Hange clasped your hand but you only pulled it away from them. 

"Why would you do this?" 

"Do what?" Hange mumbled to themself but retracted almost immediately as they glimpsed your eyes for the first time. It wasn't anger or violence they'd read, but a pure wounded look that pricked their heart. Hange knew you were questioning the motive behind every touch, every kiss, and every pleasure you've shared since that moment they had you. You might have thought yourself a prey, lured into the trap of those lovely brown eyes, of that teasing smile, and of their loving touch. Hange sat up against your softening grip. 

"Listen to me first," they whispered, clasping both of your hands near their chest. "You see, I didn't plan beyond experimenting on you. But I have a vague idea of what I want to do." 

Their eyes did not waver behind those glasses as they spoke. "This may cost me my license or, hell, even my neck. But... I'm not planning to take the Female titan from you."

Their statement came as a surprise, your mind running around the possibilities of what could that mean but found none you could accept to be true. 

"What...?" 

Hange smiled softly. "You know what I mean, Y/N. I want you to join my side."

Betrayal. Betray Eldia. Forget we're enemies and be with me, their words translated themselves on your head, etching a frown on your face. 

"What... What makes you think I'll follow along those plans?"

"I'm not expecting you to," Hange sighed, relaxing on where they sat and no longer restraining your hand gripping the shiv. "Of course, you will never let yourself become a weapon against your own kind. But that's not what I have in mind.

"I know it would be difficult for you to believe me again but I need your trust this time. I don't have a clear vision of what will become of us but know that in the future I envision, it would be just you and me. No war or another bloody clash between Marley and Eldia," Hange sighed, letting go of you as they stood up, eyes locked on yours. "I never planned to kill you the moment you stepped in here, Y/N. Trust me and I'll tell you everything."

Trust. The word played in your mind once more, repeating itself in various tones of inquiry and mockery. Hadn't you become too trusting and reprimanded with a cruel hand right after? The harsh scars and claws on your insides writhed, sending your mind back to your roots to decide for you. You're not just the Female titan or an Eldian soldier, you are Y/N, ingrained with a will and desire of your own. 

"Fine," you muttered, pulling the collection of makeshift weapons you hid on yourself, even a small prized weapon on your ring finger. Your stern, stone-cold eyes met Hange's as you placed the dangerous collection in a neat line on the center table. "I'm trusting you."

You sat back on the couch with transparent intentions this time, the sinister thought of regret shoved at the back of your mind as you spoke. 

"Now tell me everything.” 

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[spearsillustration]

🏛️ Senator Shockwave X Cybertronian Female Assistant Reader (Part 1/3)

Notes: Why did I ever have to learn that Shockwave had a super tragic backstory? When I was younger he was my least favorite Decepticon since I just thought he was pure evil. Practically crying after seeing what happened to him in the comics. And his line "Remember me as I was-." Was an even harder blow. 😭

This will probably end up being super long. I had half of this planned and the other kind of thrown in randomly so not my best work but I'm proud of it nonetheless. 

- I fear this might be a boring read, So I'd love some feedback after you finish reading this. - 

Part 2/3 -

Word count - 5,424

Page number - 15.2

        I was rushing to get to the senate building where I had a meeting this morning. I went to the front desk asking where I could find Shockwave. The person at the front desk gave me extremely vague directions. I just hoped I could find his office. 

        Luckily for me, I found an office that looked at least a bit useful I could probably ask for better directions. I lightly knocked on the door to politely get their attention. 

        He seemed lost in thought before looking up at the door where I stood. 

        "Oh, welcome to the senate. How can I help you?"

        "I'm sorry to bother you, I was scheduled for an interview with Shockwave for the assistant position and seed to have gotten myself lost," I said shyly from the door. I was definitely lost.

        "I'm probably in the wrong place."

        He looks up from his desk. "Ah, yes. That was today. You're in the right place."

        He stood up, moving around the desk to greet me at the door. "Please, do come in. Take a seat."

        I tried my best to shake off my nerves and smiled. "Of course thank you."

        He gestured to the seat across his desk.

        "Please, make yourself comfortable." He returns to his seat. "May I have your name first and foremost?

        "(Y/N) sir. It's nice to finally meet you in person." 

        "(Y/N), hm? Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And you said you were here for the assistant position?"

        "Correct." I kept my hand neatly folded in my lap so I wouldn't nervously fidget.

        "Right."He leaned back in his chair, seemingly studying me before nodding.

        "Now, just so you are aware, as my assistant, you would essentially be my second pair of hands. You would need to be there at my beck and call for anything I may need." He explained. "You will also need to keep track of my calendar and make sure it's up-to-date and correct at all times. Can you do that?"

        "Yes sir."

        "Very good. I should also mention, that if you *do* get this position, it will be long hours. Long hours and more than a few late nights. Do you think you can handle that?"

        "Nothing I can't handle, I'm a night owl myself so some late hours aren't a problem for me."

        He seems pleased enough. "Excellent, as a follow-up question, are you at all familiar with my work or... philosophy?"

        "Of course, I've read some of your historical studies and other works related to your late mentor. I always found it quite interesting."

        "As you should!" He leaned forward on his desk, a slight smile on his face as he spoke, clearly pleased by my answer. "I find a surprising amount of people in this city don't see the true potential of the technology we develop. Not to mention our society itself. But I can sense you're a bit more aware than the average individual."

        "I graduated from the same academy you went to. I've seen some of your work firsthand. It was one of my old professors who told me you were looking for an assistant so I quickly applied to work with you."

        He chuckled heartily at this news. "Ah, is that so? Hah, they're still teaching my work? I'd almost be flattered if that old building hadn't fallen apart even more since my time there. But, I digress, it's an interesting coincidence, of our... similar histories. Although I can't say most of my old professors had anything positive to say about me, to my face or not."

        "Yeah he can be quite stern but he seems proud of your accomplishments. He almost made my spark give out when he sent me a message telling me about you. Not very often he reaches out."

        He laughed again. "That old coot? Hah! You know, I don't think he's changed a bolt since I first met him. Always so "passionate" about progress, about expanding our minds and inventing new technology and whatnot."

        He leaned back against his chair again, taking a moment to size you up as a person.

        "And he has a soft spot for you, does he?"

        "Apparently and completely unexpected. I graduated five years ago and this is the first time I remember speaking to him besides running into him a few times. I always thought he hated me or at least my class." I laughed at the thought.

        He chuckled as well, shaking his head. "Oh, he most "definitely" thought of your class as a bunch of dunder-headed fools and idiots. I couldn’t count on my servo how many classes of his I had to sit through as he bemoaned the incompetence of his students. But something about you… must've caught his optics."

        "I suppose, but you as well it seems. He talked pretty highly of you. But he also said at least one of his students had to do something with their lives." 

        "Did he, now? Hah! I can hear it now…Well, at least at least ONE of my students will accomplish something*.”

        He imitated the professor, lowering his voice and making it harsher and gruff to replicate him. I couldn't help but laugh at his silly impression. Causing his smile to grow wider as he continues the imitation, laughing himself. 

        “Shockwave! Yes, I remember him… He was the ONE I had hopes for. He had a good brain! But now he’s a politician, so I can see it’s all gone to his head!" He continued.

        "Sounds about right. If I closed my eyes I'd think I was back in the academy."

        He chuckled, resting his arms back on his desk and watching me intently. It seemed he enjoyed my presence. 

        "He certainly did have a way with words, I'll give him that. As I said, very passionate. Very *very* passionate. Okay back on topic. So tell me, miss (Y/N), why do you want this job?"

        "I'm honestly interested in working with you. Your research is top notch and you're a politician I fully support."

        His smile widened. "Ah, a flattery, as well as a loyalist. You're a sharp one. And a quick learner, I imagine." He leaned back in his seat a bit. "Now, tell me this; if you don’t mind, what interests you about my work the most? I’m curious."

        "Your outlook on the future Is quite interesting and you seem to be one of the only researchers interested in our resources. You are aware that as our population grows we need more energon mainly. Too many people try to simply think in the present which won't help us in the long run." I accidentally ranted on. 

        He nodded, pleased with my answer. "So you understood what he was trying to accomplish...Precisely. People in this city, especially those I work with up in the Senate, are more concerned with now, or themselves more than Cybertron as a whole. In this day and age, a city of this size requires a very specific amount of energon for it to thrive. And we’ve nearly used up our planet’s natural resources." He laced his fingers together. "Something must be done to maintain that balance."

        "And I know your research is to find a solution. I'd love to assist you in that endeavor."

        He smiled at this. "It’s been a while since someone was so enthusiastic, or willing, to assist in his cause, let alone someone with a similar mindset to my own. I like you. You’ve got ambition, you’re quick, and you seem to be capable of thinking for yourself. It’s very refreshing, I’ll say that much."

        "Thank you, sir." 

        "Oh please, sir makes me feel old. Just call me Shockwave.  I have a question for you if you don’t mind."

        "Oh of course Shockwave."

        "Now, I have to ask. You’re not interested in getting into politics, are you?" He chuckled softly. "You’d either be a terrifying political opponent or an excellent addition, given what I’ve seen."

        "Oh me, I couldn't do politics. I'm a horrible public speaker. I stumble my words and get super anxious." I answered a bit too honestly.

        "A shy one? I never would’ve guessed." He seemed almost genuinely surprised. "You carry yourself well. You look like a confident person, you certainly sound it, although a bit reserved."

        "I do the best I can in professional settings."

        "Fair enough." He seemed to think for a moment, studying me, then smiled again. "Tell you what. How about I give you a week-long trial? See how you can handle yourself working alongside me, get a true taste of the position, hmm?"

        "That sounds perfect to me." 

        He smiled, nodding in agreement, and stood up. "Excellent, be here at 9 am, next Monday, sharp. No being late, first impression, and all that. I’ll clear out some space at my desk for you, you’ll be working there for the majority of the time. I’m expecting good things from you, (Y/N)."

        "Thank you so much, you won't regret your decision." I shake his hand with a smile.

        "So I shouldn’t, (Y/N)" He grips my hand firmly in a handshake, his expression stern yet pleased, before it softens again as he releases you. You best be on your way now, you know the way out. Until next Monday, it’s been a pleasure, I’m looking forward to working with you."

        "Me as well. See you Monday." I stood up and gave him a curt nod with a smile before leaving.

        I was so giddy with excitement the second the door closed behind me I had to take a deep breath to calm myself.

        Can't wait to start.

---

[Time skip to Monday]

        I made sure to leave early so I wouldn't be late. I arrived at his facility half an hour early so I walked the halls a bit anxiously waiting for the proper time to enter his office. I think five minutes early would suffice. When I stepped into his office, he looked up from his work, smiling at me.

        "Ah, (Y/N) right on time. Good, you seem to be a punctual individual, good quality to have."

        "I do the best I can Shockwave."

        "That’s what I like to hear," He set down the datapad he was going over and got up from his chair, gesturing to the small, clearly recently made space on the other side of his desk. "Come, take a seat."

        "Thank you." I walked over to my new nicely organized work space.

        He stepped out of the way as you slid into the seat, standing next to you as he gestured to your area. "Ah, I had one of the staff set that up for you last Friday. I trust it’s to your liking. If not, feel free to request a change whenever you feel necessary."

        "No It'll work perfectly for me."

        He nodded, satisfied with my response, then pointed at the datapad he had put down earlier. "Speaking of which, your primary function here will be to assist me. You’ll be taking care of my calendar, and you’ll also be a sort of…second pair of hands. Whatever I may need you to do around the office, I expect you to do it well, with minimal error, and promptly. Is that understood?

        "Completely." 

        He smiled, pleased, and sat back down in his chair. "Excellent, and remember, my work here is private, what you see or hear in this office stays in this office, understood?"

        "Of course, I figured as much with your position."

        His smile grew. "You learn quickly, good. That’s a very necessary quality to have, around here."

        He put a fresh datapad in front of me. "Now, first thing’s first. Open that, and familiarize yourself with my schedule for the day."

        "Understood," I said reading through the list. "Seems like an easy workload for today. Some paperwork to sort through, and meeting with one of your fellow senators later this evening. Which in the end would probably include more paperwork to fill out."

        Shockwave nodded, watching intently as I quickly read through his schedule. "Very good, correct on both counts. Very observant, I must say. Tell me, you read fast, don’t you?"

        "Yes sir, always have. I quite enjoy it as well."

        He smiled again, resting his chin against his fist as he studied me from behind his desk, amused by how enthusiastic I was. Eager to learn, eager to work. Exactly the kind of person he had been looking for I hoped.

        "Reading is a hobby of yours, then?"

        "Yep,"  I answered while looking at the data pad.

        He chuckled and leaned back in his Chair, "Any other hobbies you might have? You know I’m going to do a background check on you, I might as well have the whole list."

        "Reading, writing, and art are the main things I enjoy." 

        He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by that. "Reading, writing, and art, hm…? You’re a creative type, then?"

        "Yes, and it comes in quite handy for work."

        He smiled again, leaning his chin against his palm. "Oh, I imagine it does. And these aren’t just things you do during your leisure time? You put them to good use, as well? I’m almost jealous, I have a one-track mind, it’s all about politics and work."

        "Well, we all work differently." Though it was a bit disheartening to hear. He must overwork himself.

        He chuckled bitterly like I read his mind, confirming my thoughts.

        "Indeed we all do. But unfortunately, politics isn’t kind to individuals with many, diverse, interests. My mind tends to hyper-fixate on the present, on work, and my research. Sometimes I wish it weren’t that way…" He paused, thinking for a moment.

        "Say, what time was my meeting later?" He changed the subject so quickly that it almost made my head spin.

        "Oh um, five this evening." I quickly answered looking back down at the datapad.

        "Tch, 5?"  He looked at the time, a bit bothered that the meeting was later than he thought. "That’s right, why am I only just now remembering this…?"

        He mumbled, clearly annoyed with his forgetfulness. Then, turning back to me, he looked contemplative for a moment and then got to his feet. "You’re joining me for the meeting."

        "To take notes I assume?" I was a bit nervous joining a meeting room full of senators.

        "Of course, that’s one of the main purposes of your being here, I’ll need you to take notes." He said with a nod, walking over to stand next to my chair, and leaning on my desk. It seemed he noticed my nervous expression and smiled. "But you don’t need to look so frightened, you won’t be the one in the hot seat."

        Well, that eased my worry for the most part. "Shouldn't be anything I can't handle."

        "Exactly."

        He chuckled, folding his arms as he leaned over the desk. We both were so close now, and he seemed almost amused by how nervous I looked. "And even if something were to go wrong, I’ll be there. Don’t worry, I don’t throw my assistants to the wolves."

        "W-well I appreciate that."

        He quickly continued with his line of thought, still leaning up against my desk. "And if I may ask, why do you look so nervous? As far as I’m concerned, you’re not the one being scrutinized by the other senators, you’re here for my benefit. Is it the other senators that worry you?"

        "A bit, I just don't know what to expect. I'm just a bit nervous and I'm new to the job. The longer I work with you the calmer I'll be." 

        "You’re very inexperienced, yes, I’ve noticed. That’s another one of your good qualities, you’re not afraid to admit that." He smiled, tilting his head, still leaning next to me. "The others won’t scrutinize or judge you, I promise. They may question me, and be somewhat skeptical of you, but I’ll handle them, you needn’t worry."

[Timeskip To Meeting]

        Now I was walking beside Shockwave, the halls of the senate building bustling with activity around the two of us as we made our way to the meeting. It was evident Shockwave held an established presence in the halls, his gaze commanded respect and demanded attention.

        Eventually, we arrived at the meeting in question, a large room with a long table taking up most of the space. A few other senators were already present, chatting amongst themselves at their seats. A few of them looked over to Shockwave as we both entered. I stayed behind Shockwave and silently followed him to his designated spot. 

        He took his seat, right at the center of the table, with me beside him. The others were still chatting, a casual atmosphere until Shockwave clears his throat, and they fall silent. He waits until everyone is in place before speaking. "Alright, let’s get down to business."

        His booming voice was completely different from his usual tone. It silenced the room entirely as everyone else looked our way making me take a deep breath.

        He smiles as everyone quiets down, some of them glancing in my direction before turning their attention back to him entirely. He takes a moment to glance around the table, observing everyone’s expressions, and their demeanors, before speaking again. "If I may have your attention, I have a new assistant that I wish to introduce." He motions to me, and I immediately feel multiple pairs of optics and attention on me.

        My eyes widened a bit anxiously as I turned to him hoping he would do the introducing part. I'm worried my voice wouldn't hold nearly as much volume as his. 

        He chuckles softly, seemingly amused by my hesitation. He glances at me then back at the other senators, before addressing them all again. "This is (Y/N), she’ll be my assistant from now on, and a valuable asset to me."

        I note the smile he gives me while he says this, and the senators begin murmuring and whispering amongst themselves. Shockwave doesn’t object to this, instead smiling wider, clearly waiting to hear what they have to say. You also notice some of them glancing your way occasionally.

        I quickly whispered my thanks. I probably would have made a fool of myself and him if I spoke.

        He glances over at me and nods, before turning his attention back to his fellow senators, his expression slightly more serious. They had now finished their whispering, and Shockwave spoke up again, his voice returning to a somewhat stoic and serious tone. "Now, enough distractions, I believe the topic at hand was funding for the Iacon Academy. Yes?"

        As they went back and forth with their arguments I wrote down every word from the Senators, which I will say is quite difficult with all the useless bickering some decided to partake in.

        It was clear some of the senators were more interested in arguing for the sake of arguing, rather than actually getting things done. Shockwave was getting noticeably more annoyed with each word spoken in the meeting. His fists occasionally clenched, and his jaw tensed, he was growing frustrated with it all. Even still, he was a master at keeping his composure, his expression stoic, never letting anyone see him annoyed. The fact that I had noticed, was a slight testament to my perceptiveness.

        I looked up at him with a nervous smile easily noticing his annoyance and whispered to him. "I didn't realize how annoying your job must be at times."

        He glanced at me when I spoke and sighed internally. He was trying his best to maintain a professional demeanor, but they were pushing it.

        "The arguing, the bickering, is just one of many parts of the job I could go without." He whispered back, keeping eye contact with me, before returning his attention to the meeting.

        "How do you ever get anything done around here?"

        He chuckled a little at that. A rare moment of lighthearted humor in the tense atmosphere of the meeting. "A fair and understandable question to ask in this situation."

        He sighs, as the arguing only raises in volume, before tapping the table, and commanding all attention on him.

        With a stern expression and a commanding tone, he speaks. "That is enough!"

        His tone would have scared me out of my seat if it had been directed at me. All eyes turn to him in unison. Shockwave stares straight ahead with an intense, yet serious expression, waiting for one of them to argue or object. No one speaks up, and he takes this opportunity to speak again. "All this arguing among friends doesn't get us anywhere, does it? We’re all here with the same goal, to aid the best interest of Cybertron. We may have our own beliefs and personal goals, but our purpose here is to keep things running smoothly for the greater good of all."

        I wasn't always completely certain of his goals as a politician but his voice rang out with a truly hopeful and optimistic outlook for Cybertron. I was proud to be working beside him. He glanced in my direction again, for a moment, a silent gesture of reassurance. He wasn’t done speaking yet. But he was pleased to see he had made an impression. His expression and tone soon turned serious again, and he began speaking once more. "We’re all on the same side here. Let’s put this childish squabbling aside for a moment, and start getting work done."

        I looked around the table to see all the senators had a slight look of shame. Shockwave smiles, pleased to see them all quiet and a bit humiliated by his actions, and continues speaking, as he pulls up a holographic map for them all to see. "Alright, let’s get back to business." He says as he moves on to the subject of the Iacon Academy.

        It had seen better days since I last saw it. A heartbreaking sight to see such a wonderful facility going to shambles. He brings up some numbers, charts, and other data related to the academy. All concerning funds, or lack thereof.

        "This academy has stood as a beacon of learning and knowledge for generations of individuals in this city, but funding is running dry. More and more of its resources are dedicated towards its deteriorating state rather than actual education, and it's getting worse by the day."

        It was truly a shame to see. I just hoped they could all agree on a solution.

        A small discussion ensues between the others, some agreeing some arguing, and some simply keeping to themselves. It goes on for a short amount of time until one of them speaks up.

        "I say we cut funds entirely from the Iacon Academy, and dedicate those funds to something more useful." Came from one of the quiet senators on the far end of the table.

        I accidentally gasped at the suggestion louder than I'd like. So I quickly covered my mouth and looked down at my notes hoping I didn't get scolded for my disruption.

        Shockwave raised an eyebrow at this unexpected outburst and glanced over at me. Then, glaring at the one who suggested cutting all funds, he says, pointedly and sternly, "The Iacon Academy needs funding, we cannot just cut funding entirely. It's a core part of our city, and we can't simply just let it fall apart."

        Shockwave took the words right out of my mouth. Shockwave glared at the one that suggested the foolish idea. The others all began to speak up and add their own opinions, some more heated than others. It was clear it'd become a bit of an argument again, one quite different than the bickering during the start of the meeting. It was now a tense discussion of different opinions, with everyone throwing ideas into the mix. Again, Shockwave's fists clench, and his jaw goes tense again. He seems frustrated but keeps himself from reacting, for now.

        He called for the meeting to close for now so everyone could think through their decisions and come back with clear plans rather than arguing with one another.

        And just like that, the meeting was over. Most of the other senators seemed disgruntled and mildly irritated with Shockwave's decision to close the meeting in the middle of a discussion, but they didn't object.  

        He knew they'd come back later with even more to say, and even more to argue about, but it would hopefully be less heated than this meeting, and actually accomplish what it was meant to. After the others began to leave, Shockwave sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, tired from everything that had just taken place.

        "Are you alright Shockwave?" I asked kindly while making sure all my notes were together and organized properly. I know he'd like to read over them later.

        He looked over at me, surprised, and sighed. "Just tired. Frustrated with all their arguing and bickering, it happens every single time. I don't know why they bother to show up if all they do is go back and forth about things."

        "Well, that's how it always seems to be when people with positions of power get in a room together. But you seem different. You don't act like most politicians."

        He raises an eyebrow again, amused by this comment. "Oh really? And how is it you expect politicians to act, exactly?"

        "Well like most of the people arguing during the meeting. Argumentative, rude, judgemental, and completely self-centered."

        He rolls his eyes at this, nodding in agreement. "Unfortunately, that's just what it's like working with most fellow politicians, I could spend hours listing everything I find annoying about the way most of them act."

        "Then why do you do it, why deal with them? There are plenty of other things you could do to help people. And less dangerous. You're always in danger while in your position and no one can get along."

        He crossed his arms, a serious but calm expression on his face. "Because if no one like me does it, then everything will go to waste, and nothing will change for the better. Someone needs to maintain balance and make sure things run smoothly. I am quite aware of the dangers that come with the job, but I am willing to take the risk to make sure Cybertron continues to thrive."

        I could almost sigh. "You're too good for this job. I mutter to myself. An old friend of mine also told me about you before I got this job, you know him pretty well. Orion Pax, the name should sound familiar. I might have liked a bit about why I signed up for this job."

        His eyes widened and he raised an eyebrow again. "Orion? Of course, I've known him for longer than I can remember. What does he have to do with this?"

        "He's the main reason I applied for this job. He's worried about your safety. We all know you've had multiple death threats in your time working here. We'd all hate to see you get hurt."

        He raises an eyebrow at the death threats part. "Of course, he is."

        He sighs. "I appreciate his concern, but I'm not in danger. I know how to handle myself, and I'm perfectly aware of all the risks that come with the job. I knew what I was getting into when I decided to join the Senate, and I won't let a handful of death threats from scared politicians stop me."

        "Well Orion wants to make sure you're safe so..he might have asked me to try and work with you. Everything I said in our interview was true but I'm not just a simple assistant. I worked with Orion before on more important and dangerous operations."

        "You…Worked with Orion on something dangerous?" He tilts his head, looking at you with a curious yet somewhat uneasy expression. "Tell me truthfully, did Orion know you were going to mention this to me?"

        "No he wanted me to stay quiet, but I hated the idea of lying to you. I wanted you to know the truth, but my main reason for being here is to help you and make sure you're safe for Orion's sake."

        He crosses his arms, and his expression turns into a serious yet slightly displeased look. "Orion knows that I don't want to be protected or treated differently because of his concerns. And he should have told me this ahead of time. I understand his concern, but I didn't ask for him to send someone to watch over me."

        I looked down in defeat. "If you want me to leave I'd understand."

        He shakes his head and sighs. He's angry with Orion, and his expression makes that clear. "No, I don't want you to leave. I want you to do exactly what you were hired for. It's Orion who I have some… choice words for."

        "He only means well. He views you as a good friend. But times like these are unsafe for good bots like you. Well us I suppose."

        "I'm aware, he's mentioned that fact countless times before and I always tell him the same thing. There are others more valuable than me, and I can handle myself if there really is danger. And I know he means well. The concern comes from a good place and I appreciate the sentiment, truly. But sending someone to protect me, without ever asking me about it is just… a bit insulting." 

        "That's why I wanted to tell you. And the only reason Orion sent me is because he's heard word of someone planning something against you. We're not sure yet but it seems like you're in danger."

        He raised an eyebrow, listening intently. "Heard of something? From who? Do you know anything concrete about these threats?"

        "From what I know it's possible some of the other senators want to take you out. But that's all I know for sure. I wish I could tell you more."

        He closes his eyes and puts a hand to his chin, in a thinking pose. "They want to take me out? That's certainly an interesting development… and probably not all that surprising, a good portion of the senators don't like me one bit." He sighs and turns back to me, his expression more serious now and his tone matching it. "So you're here to what? Look out for me?"

        "In simple terms, yes."

        He looks me up and down, considering the situation. He's still somewhat unhappy about this arrangement, but he's not exactly opposed to it either. "I don't need anyone's protection, no matter what Orion says. But I respect the honesty you've shown...Alright, I accept your presence. But don't expect me to be any more careful than usual."

        "I accept those terms. I'll still only function as your assistant unless you're in danger. My goal isn't to be an overgrown babysitter. I'm only here when needed."

        He nods, and his expression softens again. "That's all I ask. As long as you still function as my assistant. I'm still not happy with Orion, I'll need to speak with him later."

[icallhimjoey]

Explain Us

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help! 18+ smut! (just a little! but it's a start!)

Author’s note: "am i gonna have to buy into the concept of sleeping next to him but just kissing?" no :) of course not :))))

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Big mistake. Massive error. Huge miscalculation.

Shouldn’t have done that.

Why did you do that?

All the things you wouldn’t even let your own inner monologue sound out were now just... out there. Vocalised into the ether. Swirling around in the air of the flat. The very one where Joe lived too, and maybe they’d end up finding their way into Joe’s ears eventually – not how it worked, you were very aware, but, a new fear had been awakened anyway.

Fuck.

You shouldn’t have told her.

And it was Joe’s fault too!

Not really. But, sort of. You were blaming him for all of it, anyway. If he hadn’t decided that your friend being out of the room for just a second was enough time to let hands wander, she would never have seen. Would never have given you that look. Would never have asked you the question you knew she was keeping inside of her mouth until Joe’d left.

“So... what’s going on with you and Joe?”

Breathe, you stupid bitch. Remain calm.

“Nothing.”

It was silly how fast you cracked. An eye-roll and a pointed look later had you bashfully confess that, yea all right, there was something going on with you and Joe. You just didn’t really know if you could explain it properly.

“The way you quickly stepped away from him when I walked back in, I fucking knew something was up. Try me.”

“No, but it���s really complicated...”

“I said, try me.”

And well. Turns out, in a huge what-the-fuck moment, it wasn’t at all that complicated actually. You told her that you and Joe got cosy and watched films a lot. Cuddled up and fell asleep on each other on the daily. Slept in the same bed a lot. All the time, now, actually, because it was just nicer than sleeping alone. But you weren’t like, together or anything.

You rambled.

And your friend watched you in silence.

And, yea sure, sometimes you kissed, but it was like, you know, how friends kiss each other sometimes. Quick pecks. Like stage kisses. Joe was an actor. It didn’t really mean anything.

“You... you kiss like friends kiss?”

“Yea,” you shrugged, picked a little bit of food of a forgotten dinner plate to appear more casual about all of it. To really sell that it wasn’t a big deal to you.

“Or like, how you’d kiss a parent, you know?”

Your friend watched you a second, and then challengingly went, “All right. Kiss me like you’d kiss Joe.” before leaning over a little in her seat, ready for a smooch.

And then you paused, and you shouldn’t have. The pause gave everything away. It made your friend burst out laughing instantly.

“You don’t kiss like friends do!” she accused, but you were already wiping your hands and reaching for her face. You could plant one smacker right on her lips to convince her of your innocence if you had to. Sure. Why not.

“No, come here, I’ll show you.”

“Ew fuck off,” she laughed. “Next you’ll finger me on the sofa.”

And–

Um.

What?

Your friend was about to go for a sip of her drink when she saw your face, and then lowered her glass as her eyes grew to twice their size.

“Oh no, you’ve let him finger you on the sofa?”

You had.

You fucking had.

But you weren’t going to fucking tell her.

You felt heat flush your face, and shut the fuck up, you could not blush in front of her. She'd know! Your panic made her exclaim your name loudly, like she couldn’t believe what the fuck this well of information she’d just fallen into even was. But there was a wild joy there too. Like she was loving this obvious mess of a weird relationship you had with your flatmate, and was so excited to be discovering all of these crazy secrets.

You didn’t blame her.

“No,” you started, trying to be as convincing as you could. “I’ve not let him fi–” her laugh interrupted you, and you didn’t like how contagious it was. You tried again, trying to speak over your own and her laughter, “He has not fingered me on the sofa.”

He had.

“Oh?”

“... what?”

“Not on the sofa? But, elsewhere, he has?”

That too.

“Stop it!” you exclaimed, getting up to clear the table. “Of course he hasn’t, we’re flatmates for fuck’s sake!”

A pair of eyes narrowed at you in suspicion.

“You sure?”

“Oh, my God. Imagine if I wasn’t?” You laughed, and she laughed with you. It deflated the tension you felt in your gut from lying by just enough to keep the nervous sweat from your brow.

You diverted the attention to different things quite quickly, and your friend soon dropped the whole ordeal, what with it being obvious that it was clearly making you uncomfortable. Your adamant denying was no fun to listen to anyway.

But something nagged at you.

Why had she immediately assumed there was more to you and Joe and then... didn’t seem all that fussed?

Well, she did seem fussed. But she also didn’t.

She hadn’t even asked if you liked him. If you were into Joe like that. Like it wasn’t really a huge deal.

Which, yea, she was right, because it wasn’t. You’d been telling yourself it wasn’t. Spent a lot of time convincing yourself that it wasn’t.

But how come it took her only two seconds to agree with you before she swiftly carried on talking about her own problems?

It bothered you more than you let on, and it kind of simmered on in the back of you mind for the rest of the evening. Kept you staring into space and not really listening to whatever she was telling you. Had you almost consider confessing that, actually, you lied and Joe had fingered you on the sofa. Big whoops. And right where she was sitting, too.

It kind of gradually happened a couple weeks ago and you hadn’t talked about it afterwards.

Of course you hadn’t.

You never talked.

But you should have.

Not that you’d know what to say.

What would you even say?

Thank you?

You’d done that once, and Joe had been all weird after.

You didn’t talk going into anything, and you didn’t talk after. And it had all been fine up until... well, now, probably.

No.

Actually... it was still fine.

Right?

You were just flatmates who did things sometimes. No judgement. Just in the moment enjoyment and comfortability. A natural fluidity that had just grown between the two of you over time.

You tried to shake it off as you got ready for bed in Joe’s bedroom on your own. Joe was still out. Would be for a little while too. Night shoot, or a party, something. Whatever. You’d not paid attention because your heart had been in your throat as he explained where he was going. Your friend had just seen the two of you jump apart in the kitchen when she walked back in, and so focusing on whatever information Joe was giving you was a little too big of an ask.

But then you couldn’t shake it off.

Because even though Joe had made the comment that his bed had started smelling of you now, Joe’s bed still smelled of Joe to you, and now every single thing that had lingered in the back of your mind got hurled right into the forefront.

That day.

That first time.

You’d been in such an awful mood that day. Ended up having to work late to rectify mistakes others had made, and then, when you finally got home, were met by a full sink of dishes in the kitchen, dirty plates and glasses on the counter right next to it. There was evidence of Joe having started trying to tidy it all up, but then clearly, he hadn’t finished the job.

When you opened the dishwasher you knew why.

It was full of clean but still wet dishes that he hadn’t wanted to towel dry before putting it all away.

Great.

Sometimes having a flatmate was great.

Other times, it was really fucking annoying.

“Joe?” you called, using a dirty fork to check if any of the dishes inside of the sink were yours.

“Yea?”

He was reading something aloud in his bedroom when you’d walked in, and you knew you were interrupting him as he did his job. But, fuck it. None of these dishes were yours.

“Would you mind not being the worst flatmate tonight?”

Harsh. But Joe jogged in and knew exactly what you meant, “Yea, sure, in a second. Look what I got!”

In a second.

Ugh.

Joe walked over to the TV and then stepped aside to reveal a small plant.

You gave it a dry stare before sarcastically commenting, “Wonderful.” and turning around to begrudgingly start on the dishes yourself.

“What? You were saying how this area needed some greenery, did you not?” Joe touched one of the green leafs proudly. He really thought he picked a good one.

“Yea,” you scoffed. “But I meant like, a big palm for in the corner, or one of those, I don’t know, huge monstera ones, with the big leafs, that can grow up to the ceiling.” You complained. Loved complaining for a second. Really enjoyed swimming in negativity as you fished all dirty dishes from the sink and placed them with the plates and glasses on the side.

“Yea, I guess that would be more impressive than this,” Joe said softly, still looking at the little asplenium. He’d picked the pot himself too, and the lady said that the small plant was called crispy wave and wasn’t that just exactly the right description for it too? “But we could do both. We could still get a larger one for next to it. And then it’ll have a buddy.”

You barely heard Joe over the clattering of cutlery in the sink.

“Hey, I said I’d do that in a second,” Joe finally zoned back in after a particular loud clang and made his way over.

“Yea but I didn’t ask you to not be the worst flatmate tonight in a second, though, did I? Have to do everything in this fucking place.”

You didn’t. You knew that. But it was negativity hours and Joe was just going to have to understand you didn’t mean half the shit you were going to be moaning about.

You pushed dishes aside on the counter to make room for a handful of forks and knives whilst Joe got his hands on your shoulders, doing his best to carefully move you aside.

“Let me–”

“No, you’ll just–”

The loud smash of a glass to tile interrupted you. Slipped right off the edge of the counter. It was one of Joe’s nicer ones. One that looked like a vintage tumbler – it wasn’t actually vintage – that he kept out on display on one of the shelves.

The both of you just stared at it for a second, and then you decided that you couldn’t actually deal with any of the mess. The dirty dishes. Joe’s stupid small plant. The broken glass. Shards all over the kitchen floor.

So you just, left.

Turned around and walked right into the hallway.

Left Joe alone to deal with the ramifications of which you would argue were his own doing.

Shouldn’t have left all this mess.

Shouldn’t have all of his friends over for lunch just because he could.

Shouldn’t have used his nice tumblers.

And people at work shouldn’t be such fucking idiots.

The universe was awful and everyone could die.

There.

But then, before you’d even walked into your bedroom, you’d already decided it was actually all your fault, and Joe’d done nothing wrong, and you were going to get him a new tumbler.

You took a minute to breathe. To sit within your feelings. Wiped a stupid tear from your eye before it could fall down. Changed into something more comfortable and raked a brush through your hair in an attempt to detangle the day out of it.

When you walked back into the living area, Joe was stood hunched beside the counter, probably inspecting the floor for bits of forgotten glass, which was... just perfect.

You walked over in silence and then simply just, climbed on board. Slung your arms around his neck and let your full bodyweight sink onto his back as you pulled your knees up and around his sides.

“Hey, wha–”

Joe nearly lost his balance and shot one hand out to a cabinet to keep himself steady whilst the other one grabbed onto one of your arms.

“What’s going on? Everything okay?”

Your chest tightened at how worried and sincere he sounded.

Joe stood up straight, and got both his arms around your legs to keep you in place on his back.

“I’ll replace it.” you murmured.

“The glass?”

Joe felt you nod against the side of his head as you cheek pressed against one of his ears.

“Ah, s’just a glass, don’t worry about it.”

“And your plant’s cute.”

It was as close to an apology as he was going to get from you. Joe felt you sigh against him and he turned his head in an attempt to look at you.

“Have you eaten?” he asked softly.

You had. Stupid tesco’s meal deal at your desk. You understood why he asked though.

“Mhmm.” you confirmed.

“Good. You ready for dessert?”

Joe let you hold onto him, but it quickly became impossible to stay in your piggyback position. You nearly choked him as you attempted to stay on, but you slid off when he started emptying the dishwasher.

You both laughed, and then you snorted, and then you both laughed at how you’d snorted.

Joe’d gotten little pots of chocolate mousse, the cheap stuff that your mother used to pretend was a special dessert for special occasions only which you believed until you were a teenager. Felt silly now, but they still felt a little special. You had yours sat at the island whilst you watched Joe clean the kitchen.

Got to stare at how his muscles moved underneath his white T-shirt.

How his hands moved as he grabbed onto things.

His fingers.

When Joe closed the loaded dishwasher and turned around, he was met with his flatmate’s half-lidded eyes. His flatmate who had her head propped up in a hand, who had her spoon hanging from her mouth.

Joe theatrically spread his arms out and gave a little bow.

“There. All tidy. Not the worst flatmate tonight.”

He truly wasn’t.

Even if he’d left the mess for what it was.

Joe didn’t even need to suggest spending the rest of the night on the sofa together. It’s where you naturally migrated to as you had your last spoonful of dessert and he wiped down the counters to really finish off the job.

You’d sat down first, and when Joe let himself fall into the cushions beside you, he leant into you a little and stuck his chin out. When you just looked at him a second, he tapped his cheek with a finger, asking for a little thank you kiss. It instantly made you grin.

It was stupid how large the shift in your mood was from when you’d walked in earlier.

But look at him!

All... cheeky and cute.

It was kind of impossible not to cheer up just by being around him.

And cheeky was right, because when you easily gave in and went to press a kiss to his cheek, Joe turned his head at the last moment and got you right on the lips.

You gasped, said his little plant wasn’t that nice, which made him laugh loudly, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut.

Making Joe laugh like that was different. Made you feel all giddy and secretly proud as you got comfortable in your little spot on the sofa.

“All right, I’ll move it to where you won’t have to look at it all the time.” Joe joked. You frowned, asked, “Where?” because the flat wasn’t that big. You’d see it all the time no matter where it would be.

“I don’t know,” Joe said, moving a throw pillow and stuffing it behind his back. “Your bedroom, maybe.”

Oh.

Yea, all right.

“Fuck off.”

You gave Joe a deadpan stare as he giggled, far too happy with his own little joke.

Even though lighthearted and sort of adorable, that got a little too close to acknowledging what you were doing.

You didn’t talk.

Well, you talked, but never about it. And you liked it that way.

Once you and Joe got close, you kind of didn’t want to stay away anymore. Speaking thoughts, and feelings, and rational musings into the air might make you decide on silly shit like, maybe you shouldn’t anymore.

Maybe you shouldn’t have Joe squeeze a hand in between your legs just above your knees for comfort.

Maybe you shouldn’t get cosy and rub your cupid’s bow against his bicep as Joe flicked through channels.

Maybe you shouldn’t so readily accept kisses pressed into your hair, and maybe you shouldn’t hum to them either. Close your eyes to them. Tip your head back to look Joe in the eye and kiss him on the mouth after.

Maybe you shouldn’t let Joe snake an arm across your waist and tuck his fingers into the elastic waist band of your joggers as you lazily make out on the sofa for a bit.

What you definitely shouldn’t have done, was nudge closer and open your legs a little as you felt Joe’s fingers press into the skin just above your underwear.

Shouldn’t have nodded when Joe rested his forehead against yours for a second and whispered a breathy, “Yea?”

Shouldn’t have gasped as Joe touched you over your underwear first.

Absolutely shouldn’t have moaned as Joe moved fabric aside.

Shouldn’t have whispered his name when you noticed how he was biting back his own groans.

Shouldn’t have redirected his thumb when it wasn’t really in the right spot, and then really shouldn’t have shuddered when it found exactly the right spot.

But it had happened.

And then you didn’t talk after.

Should have.

Didn’t.

And then it happened a bunch more.

Shouldn’t have.

But did.

And now your friend sort of knew, and why the fuck had she not reacted in the way that you thought she would react? Was this not a huge deal?!

You laid in Joe’s bed, in one of Joe’s T-shirts, surrounded by Joe’s things, and, no. It was all too much. And he wasn’t even there.

For the first time in weeks you decided to leave Joe’s bed for what it was and go across the hall to find your own to sleep in.

It felt a little like getting into a hotel bed. Not quite like your own, but comfortable none the less.

The last thing you saw before you switched off the lights was that stupid little plant that Joe had put on your dresser.

Big mistake.

Shouldn’t have done that.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[infiniteimaginings]

True Loves Kiss (Rumplestiltskin x Male!Reader)

Summary: Rumplestiltskin is an old friend of yours, you've known him for quite a while. He introduced you to his new maid for saving a kingdom from the great ogre war, what will happen when this 'maid' tells you her research for breaking curses? Pronouns: You/Yours, He/Him Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 4.6k A/N: This is specifically because someone asked for it in the comments (@aggsh-shs) and I will always write for once upon a time. This is also way longer than I expected it to be, can you guys tell I'm obsessed with this show?

The enchanted forest, a beautiful and daring realm filled with magic and wonder. A world where fairytales exist, where happy endings are prominent. But, where there is light, there is darkness. Where there is magic, there are loopholes. Where there is good, there is evil.

Within the enchanted forest, there was an extremely powerful man…well, he wasn’t a man per say. Man is humanity, and this creature was far from human. He had green, scaly skin, a dark grin, no sense of morals it seemed. He was a magical being, blessed or cursed with immortality, he was a witch, a monster. This being used his time in the enchanted forest to gain all the knowledge he possibly could by intimidation, he ripped people's hearts out, he created curses, he destroyed lives to be as powerful as possible.

This being, this monster, this crocodile, was named Rumplestiltskin. He was also known as the dark one, a magical entity that is corrupted with darkness, enveloped in the heinous shadows that surround the name, the whispers of the past dark ones swirling in their heads.

He resided in a fairly large dark castle with what seemed to be thousands of floors, rooms, everything. It was such a large castle, yet he was the only one who resided in such a space. No one was concerned if he was lonely though, why would people worry if the monster who comes to their towns and invokes fear into them is lonely?

No one was concerned until Rumplestiltskin had been spinning straw into gold, a usual pastime for him, it helped him think. His thinking time had been ruined by someone walking through a door to the side of his main room, his prize.

By prize it’s more of a condition. He had protected a kingdom from the great ogre war, meaning that he created a magical barrier around the kingdom to keep the ogres at bay. Therefore giving no reason for the kingdom to send their men to kill themselves for. Within this condition, he requested their princess in exchange for his help, the king disagreeing but the princess went ahead and sacrificed herself.

Her name was Belle, she was a bright and well read woman. She also was a prisoner of Rumplestiltskin who couldn’t leave. She was upset of course, but she would do anything to protect her kingdom. Her prisoner rank had been promoted to being a maid, she cleaned, dusted, poured tea, all of the sorts. That, in Rumplestiltskin's opinion, did not involve asking all the questions she decided she wanted to ask.

“Do you ever get lonely?” The brown haired woman asked, dusting along the shelves. She looked at the scaled man with soft eyes, no longer worried about whether he would hurt her or not, if he wanted to he would’ve already.

Rumplestiltskin continued to spin the straw, pulling threads of gold easily without thought. He didn’t even look away from the spinner, “No.” He spoke simply, foot stepping on the press to make the wheel spin. Belle pursed her lips at the vague response and continued to clean, “You must get lonely at least a bit, you’re always by yourself.” She spoke, her English accent ringing through his ears. He sighed, gaze flickering to her before going back to his work, “I’m not by myself…” He spoke to her, his voice in a concentrated mutter. “All the time, at least.” He added on the statement, his features softening slightly before concentrating once more. Belle put her hands on her hips, “I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks, but I have not seen anyone else come through here other than that thief.” She told him, walking over to him with the confidence no one truly has to the dark one.

Rumplestiltskin stopped spinning his straw and looked at Belle with a bored expression, “I don’t have tea parties with the people I associate myself with.” He spoke, standing abruptly to walk to the door. Belle stayed near the spinner, frowning slightly, he was so adamant that he wasn’t lonely but, why was he never with anyone?

Just as Rumplestiltskin walked to the main door to exit, someone from the other side had already opened it. It was a man, he was looking down into a satchel overflowed with scrolls, quills, and possibly other things, but from where Belle was she couldn’t see it clearly. A few larger rolls of paper escaped the satchel as the man walked through the door. What surprised Belle though was that Rumplestiltskin wasn’t surprised by the visitor, he had rolled his eyes and picked up the papers, shaking them in front of the man's face.

That man was you. You picked your head up from looking down and smiled graciously, reaching to grab the papers but Rumplestiltskin pulled them away with his devilish smirk. “Your satchel is overflowing, did you steal them? Buy them? I would ask if you intimidated the owners but…” He looked you up and down, tilting his head, unimpressed, “You’re not an intimidating person.” He spoke simply. The scaled man tapped your head with the paper and you gently but swiftly took the papers with a soft glare.

Belle was curious to the interaction, she placed her duster down and walked forward, hands grazing the chairs as she walked closer. The two of you continued to interact until Belle leaned her body into your view, waving, “Hello.” She spoke with a smile but curious eyes.

Your eyes widened in surprise, “Hello…there?” You spoke with a questioning gaze to Rumplestiltskin who shot a dirty look to Belle for interrupting. The dark one nodded reluctantly, gesturing to Belle without looking at her, “Meet my maid, whatever her name is.” He waved his hands around as a movement of not remembering.

“My name is Belle.” She spoke right after him so you would know. You nodded in understanding, humming at the word ‘maid’. You shook her hand and introduced yourself, saying your name and telling her that you’ve known Rumplestiltskin for years.

She tilted her head with intrigue, “How come I’ve never seen you?” She asked, wondering how after all this time a man could show up and just…be well acquainted with someone people find terrifying. Rumplestiltskin sucked his teeth, “He’s been on a long journey for a few months.” He answered plainly, picking at his nails. He suddenly pointed to Belle, “How about you do what actual maids do and make tea instead of asking questions?” He asked, more of an order.

Belle gently smiled, used to the treatment and grabbed the porcelain tea set, “I thought you didn’t have tea parties with people you associate with.” She spoke jokingly, repeating his words from earlier. The man frowned and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, “And I thought when I received you, you would be more quiet.” He muttered under his breath, not even looking at Belle. You had gently smacked Rumplestilskin in his shoulder and told him to ‘play nice’ to which he scowled about.

This routine had gone on for a few more weeks. You would appear at the castle, or wake up there after falling asleep on the main room table. You would hold banter and conversation with Rumplestiltskin, the man would go do some errands, Belle would make you tea, the dark one would return and take you into multiple different rooms.

Something Belle noticed was that her captor was very gentle with you. When you would prick your finger on the spinning wheel, a small look of concern would flash across the scaled man's face before he waved his hand and suddenly your wound was gone. He would let you take any book you’d like, as well as touch any treasure of his with no complaints from the owner. As if you could do anything, and he would never darken.

You had leaned across him as he was at his wheel, he was blocking the way to a compartment you needed to get to. You tripped a bit when you pointed your toes to get higher ground and nearly toppled on top of him. You would've if Rumplestiltskin didn’t immediately stop spinning the straw and take hold of your waist. You didn’t even look at him as you just continued trying to grab the crystal like item from the shelf, the man holding you for your balance. You didn’t notice how his eyes would look over your face, his fingers would flex around your waist slightly, how gentle his expression was to you.

Once you had grabbed the crystal item, you moved down, Rumplestiltskin guiding you back down. You thanked him and walked to the table, Belle watching the entire thing as she wiped down a few possessions of her captors.

You had sat at the table, placing a few scrolls on the table and the crystal item next to them. Belle had poured you some tea and placed a cup of it in front of you. The other man didn’t sit at all near the two of you. His eyes followed you from the spinner and he cleared his throat, standing and brushing himself off.

“I’ll be back.” Was all he said before he disappeared with the wave of his hands.

Belle had stood up at this point to continue cleaning in a different area so you could focus but you stopped her, shaking your head. “Please, drink tea with me?” You asked her kindly and she accepted the offer, sitting next to you and pouring herself tea as well. You looked at her a bit before putting your cup down, noticing it was slightly chipped. “You can ask whatever questions you wish.” You said nonchalantly, pulling a few scrolls out, some were maps, some declarations, amongst other things.

You couldn’t pretend like you didn’t see how her eyes lit up at the offer, chuckling to yourself lightly. Belle had taken the chance to ask the millions of questions about you, about Rumplestiltskin, about the castle, about your history, about his history, she asked you everything.

Belle leaned forward, hands around the cup as a safety, smiling gently, “How do you know Rumplestiltskin?” She asked you immediately, curious as to how someone seemingly so kind could be with someone who acted so cruel. You took a sip of your tea, putting it back down on the table, “I know him because we lived in the same village.” You answered her simply.

“He lived in a village?” She spoke, clearly shocked at the new piece of information. “No one was scared of him?” Belle asked you, almost scooching her chair a little closer to you.

“When I met him, he was a man.” You informed her, her lips parting slightly. “It was in an ogre war-” You continued until Belle visibly flinched at the words. Your eyes shifted to her quickly from your cup, “Are you okay?” You asked her, cup now down,hand reaching to hers for comfort. The princess smiled gently at you and nodded with a hesitant breath. “Yes, it’s just…my kingdom..” She began and you nodded, encouraging her to continue.

She didn’t though. She exhaled, the breath sounded shaky and she appreciated your hand offered to her, taking it. “It’s alright, you should continue.” She expressed, her facial expression didn’t convince you completely but you continued for her sake specifically. You looked her in her eyes, nothing but warmth within them, “It was long ago.” You told her, almost as if you were telling a story to a child. “One of the first ogre wars.” Your voice was a little low for suspense, Belle enjoyed it, it was like when her father used to read stories to her. She noticed your words and blinked a bit at you, now leaning forward to you due to her interest, “That was… that was hundreds of years ago.” She responded to your comment and you simply nodded.

“You’ve lived that long?” She asked, “Are you a mortal?” She questioned, brows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t look like Rumplestiltskin with the scales and darkness, but you didn’t look like a fairy, you had no wings. You certainly didn’t look like a seer, those with eyes on their palms, their faces sewed up, thought you could have the powers, she was unsure.

You licked your lips with a huff of a laugh, “A fairy a long time ago told me that I would be needed for something, but I would need to live to that point,” You spoke, nodding, your nose scrunched, “so she granted me immortality.” You finished your comment and Belle nodded slowly. “Are you still…?” Belle began, unsure of how to word her sentence, but you understood. “I am still a man, I just can’t die.” You expressed to her, moving a few papers, your hand still in the comfort of hers.

Belle had many questions about that, but she decided to stick to the questions about the dark one. “Okay…so, he used to be a man?” “Yes, before he became the dark one, he was a man.”

“How did he become the dark one?”

You paused, thinking for a moment, squeezing your hand gently, “It’s not my story to tell of how.” You spoke simply, and before she could speak once more you continued. “The dark one is magical,” You stated the obvious to which the girl in front of you nodded, “and is drowned in darkness until it takes over completely.” You explained to her, pausing once more. You tilted your head, trying to find a way to explain this to her without expressing more information than needed. “But, since it takes over a human host, he’s not complete darkness,” You said, “no matter how much people say otherwise.” You muttered the last part, a flash of annoyance in your expression.

Belle was silent for a moment, thinking. She pulled her hand back, you didn’t mind and simply clasped yours hands in front of you on the table. “So he’s cursed?” Belled asked you after a while of silence. You tilted your head in each direction with an expression that showed you weren’t exactly sure of a correct answer to that, “I guess you could think of it like that.”

She went silent once more, hands in her lap, “True love's kiss can break any curse” She stated to you, eyes flickering into yours before looking back to the cups.

“You truly believe that?”

“Of course!” Belle spoke quickly, “But, I suppose you are not his true love.” She mumbled, playing with her fingers. The comment caused your head to snap to her, slight shock, but mainly confusion in your face. You shook your head lightly with a slightly uncomfortable smile, “How ever would you know that?” You asked her, hands clutching each other tighter. Belle noticed your slight tone, her eyes widening at she stumbled over her words for her explanation, “He is not his original self, so the must mea-“

“Me and Rumplestiltskin have never kissed.”

Your words caused her mouth to open, she was staring at you agape. “You two..have never kissed?” She asked, truly confused which puzzled you even further. She puffed air into her cheeks, “I assumed the two of you were romantically involved since he’s far more gentle with you than anyone else.” She continued to explain, wondering if she saw it differently.

Now it was your turn to stare, agape. You couldn’t ask her why and how she came to that conclusion until Rumplestiltski himself had returned. His vest was covered in blood so he took it off, leaving him in only his long sleeved under shirt. He tossed it to Belle who was utterly disgusted by the blood but used to the action, “Clean this for me, someone didn’t want to be compliant.” He spoke, teeth gritted as he turned on his heel to a different doorway.

He gestured to you to follow, so you stood quickly, sending an apologetic gaze to Belle. The princess, the prisoner of the dark one, stood and walked to a different doorway to where she washed and hung Rumplestiltskin's clothes to dry.

You had followed Rumple, something you call him, into a tower where he worked with potion magic. He had stood in front of a desk, mixing a few bottles of magic together to create something new, you always enjoyed watching him in his element. You looked along the the rows of ingredient bottles or fleshed out potions, looking through the labels and humming as you examined them a bit. Silence was between you two which wasn’t unusual, but you decided to break it. “You want to know something so funny?” You asked him, your backs to each other as you were on the other side of the room. Rumple gave you a hum of acknowledgement, not turning to you, “I highly doubt it will be funny, but continue.” He told you, waving his hand slightly before going back to the potions. “Belle told me that true loves kiss breaks all curses.”

Your statement caused the man behind you to stand up straight, looking directly to the wall. He cocked his head to the side, though you didn’t see it, “Maybe I shouldn’t let her read those books.” He said aloud, looking back down to his potion. You chuckled, rolling your eyes a bit, “I mean, it is true, isn’t it? From everything I've seen at least.” You spoke, messing with a bottle of unicorn hair. Rumple focused on his work but muttered a few words, “She's not wrong, but why would she discuss such a thing with you?” He asked, confused on what brought up the subject matter.

You didn’t tell him that you let her ask questions but you did express why she would bring up the product of the question, “Well, she believes you’re cursed.” You spoke almost too plainly, your mouth getting a little dry as you remembered the cut off conversation from earlier.

Your words had been so unexpected that he had put his potion bottles down a bit harshly, the bottles clinking each other. You turned to him with surprise and he turned, meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry?” He asked, mouth now in a thin line, arms crossed. You didn’t expect such a reaction but you shrugged anyways, “She thinks being the dark one is a curse and it can be lifted with true loves kiss.” You explained and he chuckled slightly in disbelief.

He began to shake his head with closed his eyes, “Don’t tell me she believes not only the ridiculous idea that true loves kiss will lift my name off that damn dagger,” He began, holding his hand out for you due to the way this rattled him ,”but that she thinks she could kiss me and all is well.” He finished, tilting his head at you when he looked up, his shock now wiped into amusement. You crinkled your face into a scrunch, “Not exactly.” You chuckled out, licking your lips subconsciously, looking down.

Rumple waited for you to continue and you kicked the ground, crossing your arms yourself, “She thinks I could be your true love.” You laugh, looking up at him after speaking such a ridiculous idea. You were met with pure silence, silence that was tense and the eye contact with the man in front of you never ceased. “What?” He asked you, his voice had never been so soft, so hesitant.

It caught you off guard so you tilted your head, smiling a bit, “She assumed I wasn’t your true love since you weren’t human, and I had to tell her we’ve never kissed.” You reiterated the moments from a little earlier, and were met with even more silence. “Why are you so quiet?” You asked, pushing yourself off the bookshelf to reach the middle of the room, now half the distance from where you were away from Rumple.

He looked to the ground, a concentrated look on his face before he looked back up, “She believes you could be my true love?” He asked you suddenly and you nodded, “She believed we had a romantic connection.” You told him honestly. You were unsure why the topic was one he was stuck on, he never really cared for such a thing when the topic had been brought up before. He sighed, “And she thinks true loves kiss is going to break whatever this is?” He asked, gesturing his hands down his body and you simply nodded. Your confirmation had brought Rumplestiltskin to shake his head, “Ridiculous.” he spoke, turning back to his project.

Another moment of silence filled between the two of you, once again, you broke it. “Have you ever tried?” You asked, gulping harshly, still standing in the middle of the room, tapping your foot. Rumple was looking at the mixture he created, waving his hand for the potion to glow, “Tried what?” He asked in response, not looking at you. You took a deep breath, now simply hugging yourself. “Looking for a way to not be the dark one without…dying for it?”

Pure silence filled the room, again. You didn’t understand why so much silence was coming between you two.

“Sometimes I think about it.” He answered honestly, voice in a mumble.

“Has it ever gone beyond thinking?” More silence was in response so you tried to stutter out a different response, trying to speak of how he doesn’t have to say, or to move onto a topic.

“No, it hasn’t.”

You walked a little closer, now standing next to him but he wouldn’t look at you, like he was avoiding it. “Do you think it ever will? If you do actually find a way?” You asked him, leaning on the table a bit. He didn’t answer the question, he just put his hands on the table, looking down at the bottles, “…Can I ask you something?” He asked you, taking a few deep breaths.

“Sure.”

“What if true loves kiss could break it somehow?”

You weren’t sure if he meant with you or in general, but you answered honestly regardless, tapping your fingers on the wooden table. “Well, then…” You began, adjusting yourself, “I say you could find Baelfire, and after you do you could kiss your true love and then be happy.” You spoke, shrugging a bit, unsure of if he was actually concerned about it.

“What if you’re my soulmate?” He asked you, head turning to look at you, you turned yours to look at him. “Do you truly believe I could be?” You asked in a slight whisper.

He looked at you, the man in front of him, he saw a flicker of something in your eyes. He couldn’t pin point what it was, you couldn’t even understand what it was. He sighed, rubbing the bottom of his face with his hand, “Even if it somehow was true,” He spoke, now fully turned to you, “being the dark one is a different magic. it’s not a curse.” He told you, seemingly trying to convince himself more than you.

You frowned deeply at him, if you stepped closer, the two of you would be nose to nose. “I do hate when you refer to yourself as the dark one.” You mumbled to him, keeping eye contact with him and he shook his head, a matching frown on his face. The mood was slightly solemn through this conversation, like there was hope for something that would never happen. “Why?” He asked you, “It’s true.”

You inhaled deeply, your chest aching a bit, “You’re just Rumple.” You told him simply, eyes soft. You noticed his harder expression softened as well, his frown more sad than frustrated. “The same man who brought me those skins when I was sick.” You reminded him, eyes glistening slightly. Rumple hadn’t said anything, just looking into your eyes before he realized you finished your sentence. He cleared his throat, standing now, “Children had stronger immune systems than you.” He spoke, biting the inside of his cheek, turning to a journal to write down the products of his potion.

“And yet you still took care of me.” You smiled at his actions, still leaning on the table.

He waved you off, not turning to look at you, “I do not appreciate your sentiment at the moment, go read a book or look over your maps or something.”

You laughed a little louder than you expected and dramatically bowed, “Of course your majesty.” You told him, shaking your head and walking to the door the two of you came in from.

Before you could go he called your name, causing you to turn to him. His back was still to you but your footsteps stopped so he spoke. “Why did Belle believe we were romantically involved?” He asked you, the question was strange to you but you answered anyway.

“She said something about how you look at me far more gently than anyone else.” You expressed to him honestly, not thinking much of it.

“Do you believe her?”

“I am not sure. We have been friends for a long time, I’m sure it’s a little more gentle.”

He was quiet for a moment, before turning to you, expression unreadable. “If we were true loves, and if I was back to being a man-”

“Rumple, I don’t mind that you're..” You began walking forward to him but he interrupted you. “A monster?” He asked and your eyes lidded and your pursed your lips, “The dark one.” You finished your phrase, the words making him go silent. You were now face to face with him, “I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re not all darkness.” You explained, his eyes looking into yours, “There’s something inside you, there’s light, there’s the Rumple I knew and still know.” You expressed to him, fingers tingling to grab hold of his but you decided against it.

His breath hitched when he noticed your fingers twitch a bit to him, “That light is because of-”

“Baelfire.” You had known the answer, you knew of his son. You knew his son and how much joy he brought to his father.

Rumple nodded but continued anyways, “And you.” You were a little shocked, your face showing that. He grabbed your hands, his rougher than yours, “You’re my hope for finding him.”

A smile had broken out on your face a bit, “I’ve never seen you get sentimental.” You teased a bit, but he didn’t smile. He held your hands, looking down at them. “I think I can only be with you.” His words were heavy and they caused your heart to beat quickly and loudly. “I don’t want to be soft, but you melt me.” He explained, eyes looking back into yours, he seemed so gentle in this moment with you, like the old Rumple. “And there’s so many things I want to say and do But I don't want to risk…”

“True loves kiss?”

He hesitated before closing his eyes, sighing, and nodding. “Yes…there’s just too much on the line.”

You understood, if you were his true love and you kissed him, it’s possible he wouldn’t be the dark one anymore. He wouldn’t have the power and strength to get Bae back, and you didn’t want to be the reason he never saw his son again. You stepped a little closer, kissing his cheek gently, the action was quick, faster than he could process. When he finally did, he touched his cheek and looked at you with big eyes.

You were smiling softly, hands still in his, “How about that for now?” You asked him and for the first time that day, he replicated your smile. “Perfect.” He told you, gazing into your eyes with a fire he’s never had before. Well, the fire you’ve never noticed before now.

[florencebirdsong]

Extra Credit

Wanda Maximoff x Agatha Harkness

Agatha All Along Week 2024 - Day 1

summary: Wanda is worried about her son's grade. Agatha is gracious enough to offer her extra credit.

tags: teacher/parent au, fingering (agatha receiving), nothing else??? not even biting?? unheard of

authors note: don't question the header i thought i was cooking (i wasn't)

ao3 | masterlist

“Is there really nothing you can do?” Wanda frets, fingers twisting in her lap.

“No, it’s too late in the year for any significant enough make up work,” Agatha states. “There may be enough to bring his grade up to a pass. Maybe. If he applies himself in a way I’ve never seen. Otherwise, there’s nothing he can do.”

Wanda’s shoulders droop

“Right. I’ll make sure it get him to at least try for a pass. Thank you, Ms. Harkness,” she starts to get up.

“There is something you can do though,” Agatha says, biting her lip.

Wanda’s look turns hopeful and she immediately sits back down. 

“What is it?” 

“Something that would have to stay between us,” Agatha says, slowly unbuttoning the first button of her collared shirt.

“Of course,” Wanda says, eyes stuck on the graceful way her fingers move.

“Something you wouldn’t want to mention in polite company. Of which I am most assuredly not.”

The spot between Wanda’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion.

“The thing two adults do behind closed doors,” Agatha says leadingly.

Wanda looks more lost. Agatha sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Fucking, Wanda dear. Fuck me and I’ll raise your son’s grade.”

“Oh,” Wanda says, wide eyed. 

Agatha doesn’t miss the way her pupils dilate.

“I- how?” she quickly continues when Agatha raises an amused eyebrow. “I mean, how would you like me to…” she gestures vaguely.

“Fuck me?”

Wanda swallows and nods, her eyes dipping towards the neckline of Agatha’s button up.

“Your fingers, preferably,” she walks around the desk and slides onto it, right in front of Wanda. She spreads her legs and Wanda’s eyes drop down like it’s a siren song. “Or your mouth. Unless you’re hiding something under those mom jeans of yours?”

Wanda is too eager to do more than shake her head.  

“Shame,” Agatha says. “Well?” she asks when Wanda continues to stare. “Your son won’t be penalised if you say no.”

Wanda doesn’t respond with words. She pushes herself up out of her chair and between Agatha’s legs. The satisfied smile Agatha gives her isn’t enough to distract her as she slips her hand down the waistband of Agatha’s slacks.

“Someone’s eager,” Agatha says, sounding extremely amused. 

Wanda hesitates, suddenly unsure. She can’t say she’s never fantasised about having Agatha but this is a lot different to fantasy. Agatha is not only her son’s teacher. She’s also aloof, cocky and disarmingly charming. It leaves her aching but anxious about how much Agatha actually wants her.

“Don’t stop now, doll,” Agatha says, her hips pressing up into Wanda’s hand betrays her unaffected tone.

Wanda slides her hand under Agatha’s underwear and doesn’t hide how affected she is by Agatha’s wetness. It would be useless anyway. Agatha hasn’t looked away from her eyes since she stood up.

Wanda moves her wet fingers up to gently circle Agatha’s clit and watches as her pupils blow. She presses firmer circles and Agatha’s head tilts back in pleasure, exposing the delicate skin of her throat. Wanda can’t help running her lips over it. Feeling the fast pulse of Agatha’s heart and the way she shivers when Wanda very lightly pinches her clit. Wanda wants more. To feel her gasp and moan and tremble.

She slides her fingers lower and, unknowing of Agatha’s preferences, slowly slides one finger inside of her. Agatha is so wet Wanda meets no resistance. She studies Agatha’s face intently as she sets a slow rhythm. She’s already fascinated with the way her eyes turn black with lust but now she studies the way her cheeks flush, the fluttering of her eyelashes as Wanda slightly curls her finger.

“We don’t have all day, sweet cheeks,” Agatha says, her unaffected voice completely gone, now thick with pleasure. Wanda huffs a laugh and pushes another finger inside of her. “More,” Agatha says and Wanda obeys, adding a third finger.

She’s rewarded with a low groan and her rhythm stutters at the sound. Determined to pull more from Agatha, she increases her pace and curls her fingers every time she bottoms out. Agatha’s breathing grows heavier and Wanda’s eyes drop from her face to watch her heaving chest. She itches to unbutton Agatha’s shirt further but Agatha’s tight nipples poking through will have to be enough for now.

Wanda hits something spongey and Agatha moans. Her eyes instantly return to Agatha’s whose are half-lidded and hazed with pleasure. She angles her wrist to hit the spot again and Agatha rewards her with another moan. She wants to swallow the sound. Wanda’s eyes drop to Agatha’s lips. She isn’t sure if kissing Agatha is a step too intimate for what is a spontaneous fuck.

Agatha ends her indecision by winding her hand through Wanda’s curls and pulling her down. Wanda ignores the slight protest her wrist gives and moans against Agatha’s lips. Agatha runs her tongue over Wanda’s lips and Wanda whimpers. Agatha makes a corresponding sound and tugs at her hair. Wanda moves her thumb so it rubs against Agatha’s clit with every thrust. Agatha’s legs wrap around Wanda’s hips. Wanda relishes the way Agatha rocks onto her fingers and presses down firmly on Agatha’s clit to make her come.

Agatha moans and her hips move in time with the waves of pleasure flooding her. Wanda works her through it, slowing down as the shudders wracking Agatha’s body lessen. Wanda’s eyes move between Agatha’s face and the way she’s dripping down her fingers.

She doesn’t resist wrapping her lips around them the second Agatha relaxes. Agatha watches her with dark eyes until she pulls her fingers back out with a pop. Agatha seizes her wrist and licks up Wanda’s fingers. Wanda whimpers and squeezes her thighs together. Satisfied of her effect on Wanda, Agatha lets go.

“Well,” Agatha straightens her shirt, “Until next time, Miss Maximoff.”

Wanda nods dumbly, still stuck on the sound of Agatha coming. Then it clicks.

“Next time?”

“Oh I’m sure your troublemakers will get into more trouble before the end of the year.”

“They aren’t- “

“How many times have you been called in since the start of the term?” 

Wanda closes her mouth.

“Exactly. I’m sure I’ll see you within a week,” she fluffs her hair. “It’ll be easy to get a one-on-one with you then.”

Wanda licks her dry lips and Agatha smirks at her.

“Time for the next parent, dear.”

Wanda nods.

“Thank you, Miss Harkness.” She flushes as she realises her normal farewell has another connotation now.

Agatha’s amusement grows but she merely waves her fingers.

Wanda runs her fingers through her hair, trying to tidy it a little as she walks back to her car. She smiles. Next time.

[herarcadewasteland]

Spin, Dare, Hide.

A/N: The full first chapter of SDH! I'm back to being motivated so you get the full chapter after so long lmao

-18+, slight violence, swearing, jisung is a little shit, ateez kinda yandere towards the end

-ateez x reader, mentions of skz because Han Jisung is your bff

1 of 2 (We'll see how much more I write from today onwards)

this is TWELVE of 14 pages i have written lol... not edited or re-read

------------

Spin the bottle, hide and seek and truth or dare. Three separate games Jisung had decided to combine for a game he called SDH. Spin, dare, hide. The way it worked was a little too complicated for your liking, your head going blank as you listened to him explain it eight times over. You spin the bottle, the person it landed on is the seeker. You must do a dare they ask you and then you hide. You get a minute to hide. After that minute is done, your seeker has a time limit of 3 minutes to find you. If they find you, they do what they want with you. If you aren’t found, your past seeker spins the bottle and whoever it lands on swaps out and becomes the seeker. The game continues like this until either one person has not been found by anyone or the hider is found and “dealt with”, as Jisung phrased it. The only limit to the game was the extent of pain you could put a person through with your dare. You couldn’t ask your daree to hurt themselves or anyone else in an extreme fashion. The most you could ask would be a spank or a small slap on the face, even a slap on the wrist, forehead flicks included. That limit extended to the “do whatever you want to them” prize for finding the hider. The only pain you could inflict was determined before the actions were taken and done safely with consent. 

It was something you had played with Jisung, Chan and Hyunjin before, but sitting on the floor, listening to Jisung explain it all to Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho, you wanted to be anywhere else but there. The confusion on their faces was visible, Jisung cackling as he explained the pain limits set in place. Feeling a gaze on you that you knew wasn’t Jisungs, as he was busy staring down Yeosang who had a small blush covering his face, you turned to look around. Looking past them all, you landed on Wooyoung. His gaze was… intense. He was always the flirty one but the look in his eyes was determined. Almost like he was taking the challenge of the game personally. When you met his eyes though, they cleared and he smiled at you brightly, a small one tugging at your lips in response until Jisung smacked you on the shoulder.

He was still rambling about the game and you vaguely heard a question directed at you, just nodding along as you got lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t until you heard someone choking on their drink and Jisung shouting at you in pride that you snapped back into reality and looked around the group in confusion. The reactions were different, but each man now had a darker look behind their kind eyes. Mingi had been the one to choke, his face beet red as he smacked his chest. Wooyoung sported a massive smirk, looking eerily close to the joker smile. Hongjoong was watching you look at them with curiosity and the others were all just slightly red in the face. San was the only one you could really tell what he was thinking. His lips parted as his breathing picked up, his legs crossed and he stared at you with darkened, hooded eyes. It was clear he was imagining what he could do to you if he found you but a sharp nudge from Seonghwa on his side made him sit up, his previous state gone entirely as you watched him with wide eyes. 

Jisung caught your attention again, his eyes as wide as yours as you looked at him with so much visible confusion. 

“What?”

“Did you even hear me?”

“Oh.. no… Was I supposed to? You were explaining the game. I know how it works.”, you raised an eyebrow at Jisung.

He only answered with a laugh, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he continued to explain the little details of the game he created. He gave you no indication of just what you had agreed to when you were zoned out, his attitude more cocky than usual as he held you to him tightly. You huffed in annoyance and confusion as you sat, waiting for the explanation to be over. It took Jisung about three more minutes to finish explaining everything, questions answered and players ready. 

“Okay, someone grab a bottle! It’s time to play~”, Jisung cackled and rocked with you in his hold, your eyes rolling at his maniac-esk tendencies. 

“What did I agree to? I think it’s against the rules for me not to know.”

“Wrong! I made the rules, so for you, sweetpea, it’s not gonna harm you.”, Jisung planted a loud kiss on your cheek and you grunted, shoving him away to sit on the floor in front of him.

Yunho came back into the room with a bright smile and a half empty bottle of vodka in hand, followed by Yeosang who carried a bowl of snacks to the couch to share around. You accepted gratefully, munching on a small handful as everyone got settled in a circle, Jisung excluded. You called him a traitor as the last two settled down fully, the back of your head being smacked.

“Okay, now. Let’s start with a simple round of Truth or Drink. Don’t answer the truth and someone knows you’re lying, you drink. You get away with a lie and that’s that. Got it? Good. Jongho!”, Jisung pointed at Jongho as he shouted his name, the change in volume making you jump slightly against his legs, to which he laughed.

A simple hum answered him, Jongho leaning forward in his seat as Jisung copied him. His eyes darted down to you briefly before Jisung hummed obnoxiously loud, his eyes trailing back up to meet Jisung’s.

“Do you know who has the biggest dick?”

“Yeah.”, Jongho scoffed and turned his gaze to Seonghwa, “Hyung, did you eat my lunch yesterday?”

Seonghwa had the decency to look ashamed, his ears flushing red as he covered his mouth with his hand. He simply nodded and sat up straighter, staring daggers at Wooyoung who cowered away slightly. 

“Did you take my Star Wars Lego and re-gift it to me during the holidays?”

Wooyoung choked on air, his eyes widening in fear as Seonghwa stood from his spot, rage seeping from him as he made his way to the frantically mumbling Wooyoung. Hongjoong stopped them quickly but when Wooyoung muttered a small ‘yes’ before he booked it outside, Hongjoong had no hope against the force of angry Seonghwa as he barrelled after the culprit.

You sat in your spot, lips pressed together to stop the laughter from spilling through as Jisung cackled at your back, San looked unbothered, almost like he knew about the occurrences. The others looked slightly concerned for Wooyoung as scared screams from Wooyoung echoed as Seonghwa shouted profanities at him. Snacks were passed around as the chase continued outside and was soon forgotten as you ate, conversation flowing naturally until Seonghwa burst through the door with Wooyoung, a harsh grip on his ear as he dropped him where he was sitting previously. He retook his own seat, San patting his thigh comfortingly as Seonghwa huffed in anger. You let out a small giggle, the despair in his actions pulling it from you before you could stop it. The glare was turned to you quickly and you muttered apologies and bowed your head to him repeatedly, his glare leaving his eyes soon after as he calmed down fully.

“Oh Jisung~”, Wooyoung called out to your friend, “Have you kissed Y/n?”

Gasps filled the room and your jaw dropped, staring at the cocky look on Wooyoung’s face as he sipped his drink. Jisung hummed and ran his hand over your hair, your head shaking in response to the question before he grabbed the sides of it to stop you.

“No, but I can.”, he emphasized his point by planting a kiss on the top of your head, your jaw snapping shut as you punched Jisungs legs where you could reach.

“OK, since I asked someone already, San. Would you kiss one of the people beside you?”

You watched as his head turned to either side, glancing over his friends before he nodded, “Yeah. Probably would.”

A few cries of shock followed his answer, the two to his sides blushing red as they stared at the carpet below them. You smacked Jisung’s leg again, hand reaching for the snacks as the questions were passed between the rest of the boys. Soon enough, after a few angry chases through the backyard and a few insults here and there, your name was being called by Yeosang. You met his eyes easily, head tilted in question as you swallowed the mouthful of Doritos you had been crunching. 

“Would you make out with anyone in the room…minus Jisung?”, his eyes were curious as he held your gaze but you could feel the weight of the others’ darkened eyes on your frame as you thought for a moment.

With your eyes steadily on Yeosang, you licked your lips slowly, still thinking before you no longer had to, Yeosangs answering lip lick solidifying what you were, in all honesty, pretending to think about.

“Yes. In a heartbeat.”, your face lit up with a blush as they groaned, some shifting in their spots as others hid behind their hands to save face in front of you. 

“So why don’t you?”

“What?”, your head snapped to Jisung, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched the panic course through you. 

“Make out with one of them. I dare you.”

“This isn’t the game, Jisung.”

“Good thing a preliminary game of spin the bottle is next then huh?”

You groaned and smacked him, running your clammy hands over your face as you huffed out a breath of pure tension, “I think we get that you smashed together some games and forced us to play it for your pleasure.”

A few laughs greeted your ears, Jisung’s angry huff reaching you between the laughs before you had a smack landed on the top of your head. You groaned a little and rubbed your head, glaring up at Jisung from your spot. 

“Unnecessary!” 

“Shut up. Fine, we’ll just start the game. Since our dear Y/n decided to ruin our pre-game, she’ll spin first!~”, Jisung pushed you forwards slightly, your hands catching you as you fell forward. 

You sat upright with a huff and shook your head, reaching for the bottle that Yunho still held. The level of vodka in it had dropped and you raised an eyebrow, his sheepish smile answering all your questions. You let it go and set the bottle in the middle of your circle, sitting on your knees at arm’s length away from it, you grasped the body and spun it. Watching it spin, your heart rate picked up, the bottle slowly coming to a stop as you stared at it. You didn’t want to look away from it, if it had landed on him, you knew you would be found and there was no telling just what would happen. 

You felt all their gazes on you as you stared holes into the bottle, the neck pointing somewhere to your front right. A throat clearing made your shoulders jump, your eyes flicking away from the bottle in the general direction of Jisung behind you with a glare. You took a deep breath, staring at the bottle still. Exhaling sharply as you glanced up to meet your seeker’s eyes, you froze. You were fearing being seeked out by Wooyoung but seeing Hongjoong staring you down, head tilted down slightly and to the side as he smirked, his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he watched you, you knew you had been afraid of the wrong person. 

Red rushed over your face, a sympathizing chuckle coming from someone to your left and as you glanced over quickly, you were surprised to see Yeosang smirking at you in a similar way. The blush heated your face quicker, your cheeks burning as you glanced back at Hongjoong, who had shifted to kneel in his spot between Mingi and Jongho. You met his dark eyes, his head tilting further in silence as he picked up on your spike of fear.

“The captain first. How fitting! Now, you have to give her a dare! She can’t say no.”, Jisung interrupted your staring contest, your fear dying in your chest slowly as the look faded from Hongjoong’s face. 

A bright smile pulled at the captain's lips as he watched you closely, his hands clasping together on his thighs as everyone sat in nervous silence. 

“I dare you…”, Hongjoong met your apprehensive gaze as his darkened once more, Jisung at your back oblivious to the look as he flirted with San, “I dare you to go the rest of the night without your shirt on.”

Cat calls echoed around your head, your eyes widening as you held his gaze once more, his smile dropping into a smirk in a split second as you shook your head. 

“That’s unreasonable. I’m not-”, your denial was cut off by the sound of fabric ripping, your eyes darting down at the sudden chill on your torso only to see your shirt in two halves hanging around your hips. 

You gasped in shock, one of your favourite shirts ripped so easily but as you looked to the side to see Jongho and Yeosang with similarly hovering hands, you saw red.

“What the fuck?! I get this is a game to you all but I take destroying my possessions very seriously! So if one of you wants to stop and fucking think about how much I enjoy my possessions, that would be great!”

You were fuming. Your fists clenching as your chest heaved, eyes squeezed shut in anger while you tried to keep the tears away. Silence followed your outburst, gazes set on your form as Jisung rubbed your bare shoulders. 

“Well? Is anyone gonna say something? Anything to let me know that you aren’t complete assholes?!”

The continued silence made you huff, your eyes snapping open only to make eye contact with Seonghwa who was now kneeling in front of you, eyes darker than the night sky and swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place as his hand shot out to grip your chin between two long fingers. 

“I’d watch how you talk to us if you want to make it out later.”, his voice was deeper than you had ever heard it, rivaling Mingi’s as he leaned forward to whisper darkly in your ear, “You won’t be walking out of this house normally anyways, don’t make it worse for yourself, pet.”

He pulled away abruptly, his harsh grip leaving your face as it heated rapidly, his eyes brightening as he took his previous spot. All eyes were on you as you inhaled shakily, your eyes clearing of the anger that was previously swirling in them and instead fogging over in a headspace you never thought Park Seonghwa would be able to induce, even if just slightly as he promised you your demise. 

Jisung cleared his throat sharply, smacking his hands down on your shoulders. You jumped in your spot at the touch, your mind miles away from the current situation until that moment as Jisung began rambling off the rules again. 

“One minute to hide, as soon as you leave the room, Y/N, it’ll start. Hongjoong you have three to find her. You fail, you spin and swap out. Then it starts over until we either run out of men or our dear hider is found.”, Jisung made eye contact with everyone in the room, making sure they nodded before he slapped you over the head, “Get a move on! We only have so much time.”

You nodded slowly, avoiding the eyes of everyone as you stepped to the edge of the living room, your legs hesitating mid-step as you glanced back at Jisung for reassurance. Seeing his answering nod at your gaze, you sighed lowly and booked it from the room, your steps echoing as you clambered away from the heavy energy. Jisung’s shout for the timer starting had your heart quickening as you looked into every room you could, eyes searching for that perfect spot you knew no one would look in.

You even considered the trash can in the kitchen before you heard low laughs coming from the room across from it, looking up to see San watching you. The darkness in his eyes had you sprinting from any room even remotely close to the living room, your hands shaking as you considered just jumping in the shower or the linen closet and praying that whatever Hongjoong had planned for you was innocent and painless. 

You figured that closets, under beds, in the shower or behind curtains would be searched first, followed by behind chairs in corners or large piles of blankets or clothes, your mind racing with thoughts on how you could possibly hide in a way that would ensure you would be free to win the game and have the boys fight it out as they hid amongst themselves. Jisung shouted ‘20 seconds’ into the house, the slight murmur from the group dying down slightly as you froze, head turning around the room frantically.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hide goddamnit!”, you scolded yourself, scanning every last corner of the room before you came up with a plan. 

Grabbing pants from the closet, you stuffed them haphazardly with pillows, standing them on shoes behind the curtains before closing them to create a space of darkness, Jisung starting a countdown from 15 seconds as you frantically stuffed another pair of pants to hold with you for your plan. 

“3!”

Your hands shook as you closed the door to the room, body pressed against the wall as tightly as possible to minimize the obvious gap when it opened.

“2!”

You held the pants and shoes in one arm, tucked against your chest as you covered your mouth with the waistband. 

“1!”

You heard shuffling from downstairs, your eyes closing as you tried to control your breathing. 

“Ready or not, here I come~”, Hongjoong’s voice carried up the stairs as he climbed them steadily, “I’ll find you sooner or later, bunny. You can hide, but you can’t run.”

The sharp edge to his words made you clam up, your hands slipping slightly and causing your elbow to knock against the door lightly. You gasped as quietly as you could, free hand clamping down harshly on your mouth as a shadow filled the doorway, the hallway light only silhouetting his figure as he opened the door. He swung it open slowly, his hand splayed on the wood as you waited for it to collide with your body. The hit was far from obvious as he left it to rest just centimeters from your body, his eyes narrowed and predatory as you shook slightly.

The curtain rings did you a favor, sliding slightly to adjust to the positioning and drawing his attention from the other side of the room. His smirk grew noticeably in the darkness of the room, the hallway lights seeming to glint off his canine as he stalked towards the curtains, his eyes trained down on the set of shoes just barely peeking from behind them. 

“Oh little bunny. You could’ve at least tried to get away~”, his smug look was wiped from his face as he violently pulled open the curtains, the noise allowing you to slip out of the room as Jisung shouted ‘2 minutes left’. 

The door creaked slightly as you snuck out of your spot, Hongjoong freezing as you booked it. A cruel laugh filled the air moments later as the sound of a door slamming shut took over the house. Shivers went down everyone's spines at the following laughter, his words making you stumble as you ran into the library room that was really just a desk and a few bookshelves. 

“If I find you, little bunny, you’ll wish you never ran. I’ll make sure of it. You’ll make such a pretty bunny for us, covered in our marks and drenched in our cum.”

He made no indication that he heard the door to the room squeaking but as you slid between the shelves on the wall of the door, your stuffed pants casting a shadow under the desk for him to see as he swung the door open fully, a mocking click of his tongue following, you knew he had heard it. 

“Oh bunny. You should’ve been quieter. Maybe then you would have had it easier.”, he stood still in front of the desk, his shoulders lifting with his heavy breaths as he stared down the top of it, “But poor bunny thinks we’re dumb-”

“Hey Captain! 10 seconds!”, Jisung shouted up the stairs.

“Your tricks may have worked, but whoever is next will not be as accepting of your tricks.”

“Game!”, Jisungs shout startled you slightly, Hongjoong leaving the room before he paused.

“Your little games will get you hurt, bunny. I’d be careful.”, he growled his words at you, fingers tapping against the bookshelf you were squished between as he left the room. 

You sighed in relief, slipping from your spot to breathe properly for a minute as you gathered your decoy, going back to gather your other one as Jisung shouted up to you that you have some extra time as the bottle spun. Your hands steadied quite quickly with the news, your hands working double time to stuff some more pillows into pants, placing one behind the curtains again, another in the shower, replacing the one under the desk and shoving one under a bed. All that was left was you, Jisung’s call of your official time starting putting the shake back in your hands.

You had one minute to hide again, your decoys calming your mind slightly until you ended up in front of the locked door at the very end of the hall. The red light that was usually on in the room was absent for now as you stared at it, a call of 30 seconds shaking your mind as you turned away from it, stumbling into the closest room you could reach. 

You looked around frantically, eyes finding the doors that led to a small balcony quickly. You huffed but gave in, opening the doors with a huff. You could hide behind chairs, the giant potted plant or you could stand on the edge and pray no one walked out. SIghing heavily, you pressed yourself against the wall beside a large plant right by the doors. A faint shout of Jisung’s voice told you that the new seeker was out and searching for you. Opening doors slowly sounded less muffled as he approached the room you were in, his voice muffled while he searched for you. The door to the room opened slower than the rest of the doors, the slow squeak of the hinges making you cringe as you pressed yourself against the cold wall. 

“I see you know what you’re doing. I don’t appreciate these little games you think you can get away with, doll. When we find you, you will regret it. Mark my words. If I don’t ensure it, then I know for a fact that the others will when they find out your little mind games. Jisung forbade us from telling the others what happens on our hunts…”, a door slammed open, “So you’re safe with your little decoys until someone doesn’t fall for them.”

The growl his voice took on was bone-chilling, the anger and anticipation behind it making you shiver more violently than the cold breeze had been, your entire body tensing as the patio doors opened one by one. 

“You’re lucky my time just ended, doll. A shame we don’t get to play just yet… I’ll have my chance with you and by god will you regret everything.”, his head poked through the doors, making eye contact with you immediately and you whimpered.

The smirk on his face was nothing less than cruel as he watched you shiver, your eyes wide as he watched you until you gasped, fully registering your situation. You shook your head, hands waving in front you as you stepped back slightly. 

“J-Jongho no, t-the time ended!”, your voice trembled as he watched you panic, an easy smile replacing his smirk.

“I’m aware, doll. It’s best you come inside for now if you keep planning to hide out here. You’ll get sick.”, he tugged you inside, his large hand warm against your smaller one as the warm air of the house washed over you.

“Thank you…”, you murmured as Jisung shouted for Jongho again, his heat disappearing back downstairs to spin the bottle as you warmed up slowly.

The minute it took for the bottle to land and Jisung to shout up to you felt like ages, your last decoy being replaced under blankets on a bed. Your brain was short-circuiting. You had no idea who was next, it could be Wooyoung, it could be Seonghwa or it could be Yeosang. Either way, you were terrified of those three for the moment as you slotted yourself under the bed the decoy was on. It was a dumb spot and you would be lying your ass off if you said you couldn’t hear past your own heartbeat for a few seconds as footsteps trailed up the stairs, oddly heavy for any of the boys. 

The sound of two doors swinging open at once sent alarm bells off in your head again as you picked up on two separate footstep patterns entering rooms opposite your hiding place. You had closed the door to be extra safe, leaving the door to the room of your last hiding place open just to throw them off. Regret filled your panicked being as you watched four shadows extend from under the door to the room you were in.

Of course they sent up two and of course Jisung allowed it. Why wouldn’t he? He was always rooting for your failure in a best friend way, just as he was always trying to get you laid. Maybe that was his plan with this godforsaken game, you thought. The door opened slowly with an extended creek sending shivers down your spine as you indirectly met Wooyoung's dark gaze from under the bed, San’s sharp eyes scanning the room slowly, gaze just as filled with a promise of danger.

Watching San’s arm lift to point subtly at the decoy on the bed, you let out the smallest whimper you could, hands clasped over your mouth and nose to hide your heavy breathing as they approached opposite sides of the beds. 

“Oh princess. You could have hid so much better!”, San’s voice was overly cheerful as you watched his foot tap in eight counts.

“Unless our little baby just couldn’t wait to be found~”, Wooyoung's voice matched San’s cheerful tone as he added to the teasing.

The swoosh of blankets covered the noises of shock they no doubt made, the muted thump made your heart race, knowing they wouldn’t leave the blankets on the floor to sweep up the dust of the day. The veined hands gripping the pile confirmed your thoughts, a slight peek of hair nearly exposing your spot as they bent to pull the covers over the decoy. They whispered to each other, the annoyance hidden in their tones now present as they scanned the room once more before they left with heavy steps.

Their posture screamed disappointment but being under the bed stopped you from seeing the small smirk shared between them as Jisung called time moments after your door closed. The silence and heat building in the room suffocated you slowly, your hands fumbling with the door until you were able to breathe in different air, your mind racing at the possibilities of them sending up another group of two, maybe even a group of three if Jisung was feeling like causing more chaos. 

The troublemakers next call of your time had you rushing into the bathroom, hands fumbling with the decoy to chuck it outside, no longer caring if it led whoever was next straight to you. You were flustered, scared and becoming increasingly panicked at what the others were planning as they sent away each seeker. A heavy set of footsteps trailed slowly up the stairs, your mind jumping Yunho as the stairs creaked under the weight of whoever was ascending. They had to be larger than Hongjoong or Yeosang, their stature a little too small for you to believe it was one of them making their way up

. Your thoughts came to a sudden stop as you heard a mumble, his deep voice chilling you to the bone as you realized it was probably Mingi who was now searching for you. You weren’t afraid of Mingi for the game, but he was observant when he needed to be and he needed to be, so you were concerned. Your hands trembled as you flattened yourself against the bottom of the tub, the showerhead staring you down threateningly as the sound of his footsteps got closer. 

The panic clouding your brain hid the change in heaviness of the steps, the lighter tone of the voice responding to someone you could only pray was downstairs, but hearing no shout from Jisung at that moment, you just knew they had sent up an overly coordinated pair. That, or they walked so slowly up the stairs trying to match their steps that they lost all of their time, Jisung’s voice shouting ‘5 seconds’ confirming your running thoughts as 3 separate voices began complaining. You could recognize the tones of Mingi, Yunho and Yeosang. A shiver traversed your spine as you realized that Yeosang could have found you in that moment, their overly careful planning to walk up the stairs saving you for one last round. Saving you for Seonghwa. 

Sitting up in the tub, you couldn’t help but think that maybe leaving you to Seonghwa last was on purpose. The feeling he gave you before, surrounded by the other boys in the circle only spelled danger and dominance. You were terrified of it. The sharp change in the way he acted towards you to how he acted on the regular like a Care Bear murdering a child. Unexpected and completely out of the usual character you were used to. Your mind raced at the hiding spots you could get away with, mentally checking off places you hid decoys or hid for the others until you reached the small office room in your pacing, Jisung’s delayed call of your start time only fueling your fear knowing that Seonghwa had probably asked for his call for your time to start later. Letting you sit in your panic, letting it build slowly for him to make it burst when he began his hunt.

HIs confidence was overwhelming from that one non-verbal cue to you and you knew he would find you, probably paid off Jisung to let the guys tell him where you were so he could narrow down your location. He was already in your head and Jisung had just called your start time, your hands shaking as you closed the office door slowly so the hinges wouldn’t creek as they did when Hongjoong had followed you into the room previously. 

Your decoy sat under the desk still and you sighed, deciding to hide between the shelves on the far right side of the room, the desk nearly perfectly parallel to your small hiding spot. Hongjoong’s mocking call of ‘ready or not, here he comes’ did nothing to help your nerves, your hands sweating against the dark wood of the bookshelf in front of you, your ears straining for any sound of Seonghwa that you couldn’t find.

He was deadly silent climbing the stairs, no doors squeaked as they opened (if he opened them) and you were trembling as the door to the office slowly swung open. The large, veined hand on the wood was the only thing giving away his presence until he stepped into the room, eyes fixed on the desk with an intensity you never saw in his eyes. His lips curled at the shadow under the desk, his head tilting as his tongue poked out to run over his plush bottom lip.

“I appreciate your commitment to the decoy under the desk, pet. It’s clever. For dumb little girls who don’t know when to give themselves up.”

His voice was deep again, eyes never leaving the desk as he approached it, hands slamming down the surface. He hung his head slightly, his fluffy hair dropping to hide his eyes from your  fearful gaze. 

“I’ll give you a choice, pet. You come out of your own free will, walk downstairs with me in that pretty little bra and we go easy on you.”, he scoffed out a small laugh, his hands drawing your attention as he reached into his pocket, a small pocket knife glinting in his pretty hands, “Or~ You don’t. I pull you from that pathetic little hiding spot and drag you down those stairs where you get used by us until you can’t even lift a finger. Jisung was a good little boy…”

The silence made him hum, his hand flipping the knife open and closed over and over with a steady click. He laughed mockingly as the silence carried, your stubbornness amusing him as he tilted his head.

“He was too easy for San to seduce. All it took was a few touches on his thigh, some compliments and he was caving, telling us all your dirty little kinks. Yeah he gave us everything we needed to know. And then he left!”

His cruel laugh made you tear up. Of course Jisung caved to San’s false advances. The fucker probably took the car too, not even leaving you a text to explain how he fed you to the wolves. You were drawn from your angry thoughts towards Jisung by the rough scrape of the blade on the wooden surface of the desk. 

“I’ll give you… one minute. You had a minute to hide for us. You get a minute to decide how good you want to be for us.”, He was standing up straight again, his fingers drumming the desk as he put the knife away. 

The silence was only broken by his drumming and a slow, mocking countdown to your inevitable demise, his voice deep but airy as he counted to your end. Your heartbeat was rapid in your chest and you could swear if Seonghwa was silent for even a second, he’d hear it pounding against the wood of the bookshelf. Your thoughts overwhelmed your awareness of your actions, your breathing getting a little out of hand with your increasing heart rate as the countdown dropped to ‘5~’ and suddenly stopped.

By the time your mind caught up with the lack of counting and the heat of the darkened eyes suddenly on you, a harsh grip was on your hair, pulling you from your spot roughly. You hadn’t even seen him move, your legs buckling at the sudden motion, causing you to stumble into Seonghwa’s chest, his eyes beating down on the top of your head as you pushed away from him slightly to get some space for your racing thoughts to calm. You had no time to begin to calm yourself as his soft lips brushed your ear teasingly, his voice nothing but a growl as he whispered to you. 

“Run for me now, pet. Let’s have some fun~”

Your mind ran blank as he nudged you towards the door, your feet carrying you faster out of the room, your panic leading you to the bathroom once more, closing the door with much more force than necessary. The coldness of the tub stole your breath as you laid down again, the reflection of the showerhead letting you see the door open slowly just as every other door had. The image was too distorted for closer objects, a slight blur showing you Seonghwa’s figure walking further into the room but not allowing you further sight on him. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your breathing and your heart to listen to his movements.

Hearing none, just a slight shuffle you were sure you made, you opened your eyes just in time to see his large hand twisting the cold water tap for the shower. You gasped at his hand, his dark eyes peeking around the curtain just as ice cold water poured down onto you from above, your eyes closing as you shrieked at the cold, hands raising to try and block some of the stream. They were soon tugged down though, a new face hovering above yours as you thrashed about in the tub, heart racing as you glanced up.

———

part 2

there’s just something about cruel seonghwa that gets me going istg