#fic teaser

[enchantedlandcoffee]

Love's a State of Mind

by @enchantedlandcoffee

Coming soon(ish) to @1domegaverseficfest

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Friends to Lovers, Exes to Lovers

"What is it? Is it because I told you I love you? Because I tell everyone I love them, Louis, it's no big deal-" "It is a big deal, Harry. God, I've heard you tell Niall, Liam, Nick, even the postman that you love them. I've known you for ten years now and, since we presented, you stopped telling me that you loved me. You'd tell everyone else and I'd just get a pat on the back. So forgive me if I was a little taken aback by my drunk best friend telling me he loved me. Telling me that there's no one else like me and that he'd be lucky to have me as his omega. Only then to find out that he doesn't remember that last part. And for him to laugh it off like it didn't mean anything-" "It didn't mean anything..." "Well, it meant something to me."

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[violetsiren90]

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut (eventual fluff 😂); BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom; MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace lol; Hobi in the studio 👀 (The full oneshot will come with more specific warnings - a looooong list lol)

Mood board here! ⛓🖤

Release date: Christmas? 🎄

Author's note: Hey, y'all! I am catapulting out of my comfort zone with this one and, honestly, having the time of my life. I've been in my Hobi era lately and when the concept of dom!Hobi possessed my mind I knew I'd have to write it out or else. 😅😂 I hope to pop this under your trees around Christmas! Hope you enjoy the teaser, and as always, if no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Also, a big thank you to @orchidyoonkook for beta reading this - you are the real MVP! 💕

If you want to be alerted via the tag list for this when it drops, let me know!

_______________________________________________

  "What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

    You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

    "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

    The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

    "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

    You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

    Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

    You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

    "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

    He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

    "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

    At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

    Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down. It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

    "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

    "I told him...I said..."

    "What?"

    "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

    You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. Shit.

    "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

    He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

    "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

    You don't answer him. You can't. Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his grey sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him -  standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

    "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

    He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bare.

    "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

    He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

    "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

    "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

    You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

    "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

    "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

    But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

    "When you're a filthy pathetic little slut."

    A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together (to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure), and that's when he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes fluttering frantically open. 

    "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?" Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long, something that longs to feed.

    You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

    "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want - your friend. Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

    "Yes - yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

    So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body. You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

    "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his words.

    You blink, your mind running up against the sudden saccharine pet name (which he has admittedly called you before) as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous.     Something simple maybe...a flower...?

    "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

    "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever - okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

    You nod.

    "Say it for me," he whispers, you shiver again. Fuck.

    "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

    "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

    You scramble to find your voice.

    "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

    He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

    "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

    He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

    "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

     He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

    "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

    "No, Hobi," you whisper. And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

    "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

    You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and completely exhilarating. When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want. You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

    "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

    "Make me."

[bangtanintotheroom]

Make Me Water (M)(Teaser)

Can you blow my mind?

Set off my whole body

If I give you my time

Can you snatch my soul from me?

🔊 water - tyla; make me - britney spears, g-eazy; the look - ali gatie, kehlani; meeting in my bedroom - silk; tonight - dxvn., daniel di angelo; slidin' - kai and more... 🔊

• Pairing: Seonghwa x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Friends to Lovers, Smut, Fluff

• Rating: 18+

• Words: (teaser) 433

• Summary: The most unexpected topic comes up during a drinking session with your friends, leading to one of them making a rather bold claim. You declare that they’re full of shit and unintentionally make them determined to prove you wrong.

• Warnings/themes: drinking, swearing, explicit sexual content, discussion about inappropriate topics, Seonghwa and his bedroom eyes 😶, Y/N is in for the ride of her life, bickering, making out, body worship, teasing, edging, praise, fingering, squirting (it’s gon be real wet up in here 🗣️💦), dirty talk, oral (f. and m. receiving), hints of come eating, multiple orgasms, creampie, multiple positions, unprotected sex (dooon’t do this), aftercare

• Notes: Well well well, looks like we've got another ATEEZ fic coming up 🤨 Seonghwa has been slowly inching his way into my second bias spot and I've been in the mood for something extra filthy, so here we go! The amount of research I've had to do for this topic is almost embarrassing jcbvosiovbs 💖

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask! PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE PRESENT IN YOUR BIO OR YOU WILL NOT BE TAGGED.

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @kiestrokes @hyunjinsjeans @firesighgirl @swga-ficrecs

“Why bother telling you when I could just show you?”

Your fingers seemed to lose their grip on the plate, clattering into the sink loudly.

What? He did not just say that.

You turned to gawk at Seonghwa before stuttering, “H-Huh?”

He was nonplussed as he met your eyes, repeating, “I could just prove you wrong. Actions speak louder than words, no?”

Was he fucking serious? Seonghwa offering to show you how he could make you squirt?

“Hwa, you…you’re joking, right?”

“I’m not.”

Judging by the look on his face, he really wasn’t.

Feeling a heat begin to creep up the back of your neck, you tore your gaze away to grab the plate, picking it up and checking to see if it suffered any damage from your slip-up.

“Come on, be for real right now. I can’t do that.”

“You can’t let me touch you or you can’t squirt?”

You almost threw the abused dish back down as your head whipped up to fix him a flustered glare.

“Both! One, we’re friends. Two, I’ve never squirted and I never will.”

Seonghwa gave you an equally stern look, firing back, “We’re both single and it would just be between the two of us. And have you ever even tried?”

“N-No, but—”

“So how would you know?”

You pursed your lips, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with defeat overcoming you. He had a point. He could probably tell by the look on your face that you knew this, yet he didn’t gloat or prod you further. Seonghwa just kept watching you and waiting for your next defense to come out. But it didn’t come for a while as your mind raced with thoughts, coming up with one that threw you off-guard.

Would it really be so bad to say yes?

“There’s still a chance for you to back out, Y/N. It’s your call.”

Seonghwa’s body language was pretty clear in what answer he really wanted to hear. The way he continuously brushed his thumb over your knuckles and looked deep into your eyes let you know how much he was looking forward to this experience.

And yet he still gave you full control over it.

A grateful smile couldn’t help but stretch over your lips as you completely made up your mind. Your palm turned over to still his wandering thumb, scooting closer until your knee touched his own.

Leaning in, you whispered into his ear, “Show me what you can do.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[shadowkoo]

Bad For You - Teaser

→ Summary: Jungkook wants what he can’t have and it’s driving him nuts. He’s never thought of you more than Namjoon’s annoying little sister, but that’s all changed now that you’ve returned from university. Especially now that you plan to stay at his apartment until further notice. Having you around takes his mind off the importance of this season, something he cannot have happen since last season ended so badly. A distraction like you might either become the biggest mistake of his life, or perhaps the best one. You know better than to sleep with the up-and-coming, all-star, fan-favorite hockey forward for the Denver Dragons. And it’s not because he’s just as much a player off the ice as he is on it. More importantly, he’s your brother’s teammate, best friend, and the guy whose place you’re crashing at. He’s been off-limits since the day you met him, but it didn’t stop you then, and it sure as fuck isn’t going to stop you now…

↠ jjk x f.reader | 224 words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, hockey au, professional athlete au, brother’s best friend au, forced proximity, age gap, forbidden relationship

→ Teaser Warnings: Jungkook is hot and bothered, and takes a steamy shower where he masturbates to past memories of you 😏

→ Official Teaser for Bad For You, Fic 1/7 of the All About You series

Jungkook undresses and turns on the hot water, letting it fall onto his chest as his head falls back. He has one hand extended out to the wall, which he leans on for support. The other is trailing down his body, down toward his throbbing dick.

It won’t take him long to get off. Not when he’s so worked up.

He rubs his thumb over his tip a few times before starting to pump his length.

Thoughts of you cloud his head. Like how you tasted that night. Like how you panted in his ear and begged for more.

Jungkook’s hand moves faster and he grits his teeth.

So maybe he lied. Maybe it wasn’t only a kiss. Maybe his fingers were also deep inside your tight little pussy.

The memory alone sends him over the edge. His grip around his thick member tightens, and he tosses his head back as his load is shot into the drain below him.

Masturbating to the thought of you isn’t a very proud moment in his life. It’s a shameful thing he’ll hardly admit to doing more than once, even if that’s not the truth.

He breathes deep and closes his eyes. He’s fucked for sure. You’re not even back in his life yet and he’s already losing control. How on earth is he going to survive?

Follow me to stay up to date! Posting announcement coming soon! Join the taglist here!

©shadowkoo 2023. All rights reserved.

[everythingne]

one to two (teaser, ls2)

Your father, the President of The United States, has decided the only way to keep you ‘tame’ is up have you married off… to a Formula One driver..?

logan sargeant x first daughter!reader, smau and short fic

tws: arranged marriage, nothing else really? if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this short series, please let me know by commenting on this post or sending me a message!

fc: laura lind (and random other pinterest found photos)

-

“He’s a wonderful guy,” your father sighs at your obvious distaste, “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I thought he was going to be bad for you, you know.”

“You didn’t even ask me, what if I had a boyfriend!”

“You didn’t.” Your brother says after a sip of his champagne, “and, if you did, Dad would’ve just had you marry the guy you were dating.”

“If he passed the dad test.” you complain, making your brother laugh while your father just rolls his eyes. You don’t have time to say anything else because he’s standing up to greet James Vowles, the team principal, and you follow suit.

"So this is the woman Logan's been keeping a secret?" James grins and you realize, yeah, okay now it's time to act.

"Sorry he kept you in the dark for so long, Mr. Vowles!" You smile, glancing over James' shoulder as you speak to see who can only be Logan approaching, "Logan does speak very highly of you."

"As he does you." James nods, stepping back to allow you to happily pull Logan in for a hug. None of this is rehearsed. None of this is planned. Logan's arms slot naturally around yours life he was sculpted from the same marble, and your head fits perfectly under his chin. When you both step back, you let out of a soft giggle with flushed cheeks and try to not see the obvious overjoyed expression on your fathers face.

-

Logan's drivers room is neat, tidy, but small. He lets you take up the somewhat comfy couch while he pulls his fireproof over his head with his back to you. You both have sat in silence for the past five minutes, your parents whisking you off to the 'comfort' of Logan's room so you both could bond.

"So." Logan turns around once he's fully changed, and you try your hardest to make sure your eyes don't wander because god damnit did those fireproofs have to be so tight?

"So?" You echo with a tad more curiousity in your tone and Logan pops down next to you.

"I was told we need to have a consistent story to not get caught." His eyes meet yours breifly before he's looking away, almost bashfully as his hand comes to toy with his hair, "but I have no idea what that should be."

"You were born in Fort Lauderdale, right?" You ask, and when Logan nods you grin, "Alright, here it is, we were neighbors growing up. Your brother and my brother were really good friends, since I think they're the same age? We tagged along with the older brothers. When you moved we lost contact, but, when you started racing in Formula I got in contact with you via Instagram and the rest is history."

"Childhood best friends seems American enough," Logan grins and a laugh barks out of you that you arent expecting.

[seungkw1]

the truth is out there — csc

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader ♡ theme: x-files au ♡ wc: 8.2k ♡ warnings: none ♡ a/n: started rewatching the x-files recently and the idea of this popped into my head so i simply had to write it!! also, y/ln refers to ‘your last name’ bc ya know. agent stuff.

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

When you joined the FBI you didn’t expect to end up working in the basement with a peculiar agent obsessed with all things extraterrestrial, but your new assignment is certainly taking you places you’ve never been before.

10 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

taptaptap

The light knocking on your desk pulls your focus away from the almost-completed report on the screen of your monitor. Most would call report writing the boring part of the job, and while you don’t necessarily disagree your high levels of attentiveness allow you to efficiently plug away at the otherwise mind-numbing task - so, you don’t mind it so much. That is, unless you are interrupted. 

“Hey Frenchie, the Bergmeister wants to see you.” 

Stifling a sigh, you look up at your bothersome coworker, Soonyoung, who is currently leaning over your desk while eating a sandwich. You grimace as you see the multitude of crumbs he’s managed to drop all over your paperwork in the five seconds he’s been standing there.

“What does he want?” you ask, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

“Didn’t say,” he mumbles through the large bite he just stuffed into his mouth.

The Bergmeister is the inane moniker Soonyoung and his pals call your supervisor, Assistant Director Bergman, behind his back. Frenchie is the irritating nickname nearly half the office now calls you, to your face, due to an unfortunate incident involving French dressing and the light gray pantsuit you chose to wear on your very first day on the job. You figured they’d get tired of it after a few days, but that was several weeks ago at this point - and much to your chagrin it seems to have stuck.

You give Soonyoung a very obviously fake grin to accompany your obviously sarcastic response. “Thank you, Agent Soonyoung - helpful as always.”

Soonyoung winks at you. “For you? Anytime.” You imagine grabbing his sandwich and bopping it on his head. 

The muted sounds of landlines ringing, keyboards clacking, and fax machines whirring drift past your ears as you walk steadily to Bergman’s office, maintaining a false air of confidence as to mask your anxiety. You’ve never been called into his office alone in the two months you’ve worked for the FBI - you quickly leaf through your mind for anything you’ve done that could be a potential mistake, but you come up empty handed. 

Bergman’s door is ajar - you rap your knuckle against it twice as you step inside. He peers up at you through thick, round lenses. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes, come in, have a seat - and shut the door behind you.”

The heavy door closes with a deep thunk. As you lower yourself into the chair facing the desk you notice you’re joined by a man you’ve never seen before. He says nothing, but looms in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette. 

“I’ll spare you the bullshit, Y/ln,” Bergman starts. He looks more tired than usual. “Have you heard of the bureau’s division known as the ‘x-files’?”

You feel your normally stoic face contort into a confused expression. Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“Well, yes, sir… but isn’t that an unofficial department?”

He takes a sip from his styrofoam cup of coffee. “Correct - it’s not official, but I assure you it is very much a ‘functional’ operation.” He all but rolls his eyes at functional. 

You shoot a glance at the unintroduced man in the corner, but he remains expressionless. Bergman continues. 

“I’m sure by now you’re well aware of the reputation surrounding this subsect and its…proprietor, shall we say.”

You give a single nod. By your second day in the office you’d heard all about the x-files: cases allegedly involving aliens, the supernatural, and all sorts of nonsense you chalked up to pure baloney. You’d also learned of the lone employee who spearheads the whole operation from the bureau basement: Agent Choi. Nobody seems to take him, or it, seriously - so much so that you had begun to doubt if it was even a real department, and if Choi even existed. But apparently, the rumors were true. 

“I am not at liberty to discuss the reasons behind this decision,” Bergman tells you, “but all you need to know is that this assignment is significant in nature.”

Assignment?? Surely he doesn’t mean…

“I’m not sure I understand,” you ask hesitantly, “am I-”

“Being assigned to the x-files? Yes.”

Your stomach lurches. You open your mouth to inquire what exactly it is you’ve done wrong, but clearly he anticipated this exact response. 

“This is not a punishment - though I certainly know why it might seem that way. But, it’s imperative that we receive reliable insight into the operations of this endeavor.”

You sit there in silence for a few seconds, dumbfounded. “So, you’re asking me to spy on Agent Choi.”

Bergman waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I know how this sounds. And essentially - yes, you will be our eyes and ears into this otherwise elusive project. Choi will know we’re sending you there to report back to us, but we don’t care. We are confident you will succeed in providing us with useful information.”

You wait for him to go on, to elaborate in any capacity, but apparently he’s finished. 

“Alright then, so when do I-”

“Immediately,” Bergman interjects. You purse your lips, trying to hide your displeasure. 

“Yes sir,” you reply as respectfully as you can muster. 

“Great. We’re counting on you, Y/ln.” You glance once more at the smoking man in the corner, but he remains silent. 

“Dismissed.”

You walk out of Bergman’s office, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. You have the misfortune of passing Soonyoung’s desk on the way back to yours - he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something annoying again, but you briskly zoom past him before he can get a word out. You make a beeline for your desk, grabbing only your purse and coffee cup before heading toward the elevator. 

X-files, here I come, I fucking guess. 

—-

Your eyes take a few seconds to adjust as you step into the dim basement. The elevator doesn’t come down to this level - you spent a good ten minutes trying to locate the correct stairwell that would even bring you here. You make your way through a seemingly endless hallway of dusty filing cabinets, forgotten boxes, and broken computers before you find yourself in front of a nondescript door, not quite shut - the only thing signifying that you’ve arrived at your destination being the makeshift paper name plate with S. Choi written in ink. You raise your fist to knock but before you can do so you hear a voice call out from inside. 

“Come in.”

You push the door in, its hinges giving you a high-pitched squeeeeak as it opens. You make a mental note to find some WD-40. 

The sad excuse for an office is equally dim-lit as the hallway, but it’s a sight to behold: a desk at the center of the room - neat, but stacked with newspapers and case files, a small lamp lighting up the open file in the desk’s center; a bookshelf nearly reaching the ceiling, overflowing with books on seemingly every topic under the sun; archival boxes stacked as tall as the numerous filing cabinets, which are also topped with more boxes; a massive bulletin board filled with articles and photos; but most notably, pinned the wall, is a poster featuring a flying saucer, accompanied with the text I WANT TO BELIEVE.

In the bizarre room sits a dark-haired man typing at his computer, his back to you. 

“I presume you heard me coming,” you state. 

“From a mile away,” he replies, still typing. 

You wait for him to turn around, say hello, anything - but the clickclack of his keyboard continues.

Several seconds pass, but the man says nothing. Apparently, it’s on you to break the silence.

You sigh under your breath. “I’m Agent Y/ln, I’ve been-”

“Assigned to the x-files to spy on me?” he interrupts, eyes still glued to the monitor. 

“They told me you’d know that,” you admit. 

The typing stops. Choi turns around, the heavy desk chair giving an unpleasant creak as he leans his elbow over its back, finally facing you. His appearance takes you by surprise: strong eyebrows, plump red lips, soft dark-brown eyes - you weren’t expecting to find such a handsome face attached to the man with a reputation for being a “crazy UFO freak”, in the words of your coworkers. He’s much younger than you anticipated too, around your age - and seemingly so… normal. His eyes do a quick scan of your figure - his expression barely changes, but a quick flash of interest tells you you’re not exactly what he expected either. It is extinguished almost immediately. 

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” His tone is passive, but you detect a hint of somberness in his words. His warm eyes lock onto yours. 

“Name’s Choi, but I’m sure you already knew that. You can call me Seungcheol, though.” If it was anyone else, you’d think it was flirtatious in nature - but you can tell that was not his intention.

“Okay. Well, Choi, what exactly am I to do here?”

An eager grin lights up his face. He rises from his chair, grabs a case file off the pile on his desk, and opens it - throwing it back down onto the desk, facing you.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

You quickly skim the details: a series of disappearances in a small town, all teenagers. So far, no bodies have been found. Local law enforcement has compiled a list of suspects, but they don’t seem to have many leads.

“Okay, so we have a potential serial killer.” 

Choi shakes his head. “That’s what the local police think. Which seems reasonable, unless you’re familiar with the location.”

You glance back at the file. Spirit Lake, Iowa.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s a known UFO hotspot. Sightings have been reported for decades, most notably in 1967 when there were three different sightings - one of which was caught on camera by two different witnesses.”

He hands you a stack of old polaroids. You flip through the grainy photographs, which all appear to showcase an ambiguous but distinct saucer-shaped object in the night sky.

You stare at your new partner. “Choi, this could be anything. Most so-called UFO ‘sightings’ are nothing more than aircraft that are very much from Earth.”

“The U.S. Weather Service officially stated that it was a weather balloon, however no weather balloons were launched within 500 miles that day. There were also no flights - civilian or military - on record for the area that night.”

“And have you considered that this could all just be a hoax?”

“Sure, it could be. But what if I told you that in 1967 there were also three recorded disappearances, all coinciding with the UFO sightings?”

He hands you a separate case file on the 1967 disappearances. All of the cases are closed, as the three who went missing eventually turned up again - unable to account for what happened to them, but otherwise unharmed.

You close the file, setting it on the desk. “So let me get this straight: you think these people were all abducted by aliens. And you think the exact same scenario is happening again, this year?”

“There have been three recent UFO sightings in the area reported, and we have three missing teens. It all matches up.”

You stand there in silence, at a loss for words. Guess everyone was right, you think to yourself. The man is insane. 

“Okay, let’s say you’re right,” you finally respond. “How exactly are we supposed to contribute here? Looks like they’ve already exhausted all leads. Why the hell do we need to fly out to Iowa?”

Choi gives a knowing smile. “They found the first girl this morning. Alive. Barely remembers anything, but unharmed.”

“And you want to go catch some little green men.”

“Actually, ‘little green men’ is a misconception - known encounters have widely reported extraterrestrials to be gray-skinned and not that much smaller than us. But anyway, more or less - yes, we’ll be in search of evidence that alien life is making contact with humanity.”

You stand there in disbelief. So this is where you’ve ended up - in the basement with a madman on a wild goose chase. As you’re thinking about quitting on the spot, Choi goes back to his computer.

“Anyway I’ll get us booked for the first flight out of here tomorrow morning,” he informs as he resumes his typing. “Want me to pick you up?

“No, that’s quite alright.”

“Suit yourself.” 

You wait for him to say something further, but he doesn’t. You turn to leave. As you approach the doorway you hear the creaking of his chair once more. Looking back, Choi is facing you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Agent Y/ln.” 

His expression is sincere. You may be stuck with a madman, but at least he’s not a complete asshole.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You feel Choi’s eyes follow you as you exit the room.

—

11 September 1993 Spirit Lake, Iowa

The gravel driveway crunches loudly as the rental car slows to a stop. Your partner shuts off the ignition and turns to face you, his left hand still resting on the wheel.  

“Ready?”

You glare back at him. “You’re acting like this is my first case, Choi. I’ve done this before.”

You open your door and exit the car before he can reply. You’ve barely gotten started on this investigation, but he’s already on your nerves. 

You approach the cottage-style house and ring the bell. A disgruntled-looking woman in her 40s opens the door.

“Mrs. Miller? I’m Agent Choi, and this is my partner Agent Y/ln.” You both raise your badges. “We’re here to speak with Alexandra, may we come inside?”

Mrs. Miller practically scowls at you. “She’s already spoken to the cops three times, leave us alone.” The door slams shut in your face.

You and Choi shoot a look at each other. You hear a voice shouting inside, followed by loud arguing. The door reopens to a young girl, high-school age, with jet black dyed hair, heavy eyeliner, and a nose ring.

“Ignore my mom, she’s a huge bitch,” the girl says as she steps outside, slamming the door behind her. She marches past you. “I’ll talk to you, let’s walk.”

Choi raises his eyebrows at you as he turns to follow the girl. You join him.

“You must be Alexandra,” he says to the girl, who is still walking.

“Alex,” she corrects. The girl finally stops, turning around to face you. “Are you going to take me seriously or are you just going to laugh in my face like the cops did?”

“I believe you,” your partner assures her. 

The girl turns to you, arms crossed. “I take it you’re the skeptic then?” Before you can respond she continues. “Trust me, I am too. I’ve always heard all the stories growing up about the abductions in this town, but I thought it was all bullshit. But I don’t know how else to explain what happened to me.”

“Can you start from the beginning?” Choi asks.

The girl sighs. “Yeah, sure. I was driving home from my friend Becky’s house, by myself. It was pretty late, like around 9pm. I was on Campbell Road, I had just passed the old schoolhouse. It was dark as shit and nobody else was around. Then suddenly there was this crazy bright light, it was all around me and I couldn’t see anything. I remember slamming on my breaks, but I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t know how long I was out, but I do remember waking up a few times and I swear I was in some like laboratory or something. I was laying down but I couldn’t move - I could just barely make out some figures standing over me. Then, next thing I know I’m walking down the road again, right where I was driving. No fucking clue how I got there. A deputy found me and took me to the hospital. They told me I was gone for six days. I had to talk to the cops like a hundred times, but there was nothing else wrong with me so they sent me home. And now everybody thinks I’m fucking crazy.” 

“Nobody believes you, then,” your partner empathizes.

“The cops think I’m lying and that I ran off with my ‘boyfriend’ for a week,” she scoffs. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. But of course that’s what my mom believes now, so now I’m fucking grounded.”

“I’m sorry,” Choi tells her sincerely. 

“Do you have any connections to the others who have gone missing?” you ask.

Alex shrugs. “I mean, we all go to school with each other, but I don’t really know them.”

Choi finds a piece of paper and a pen in his jacket pocket and scribbles something on it, then hands it to the girl.

“This is where we’re staying, if you remember anything else give us a call.”

On the drive back, Choi appears to make a wrong turn. 

“You were supposed to go left,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “I want to check out the location where Alex was taken from.”

“Why?” you ask, “There’s nothing there. When they found the car they towed it.”

“Just want to check it out.”

You can tell you’re not going to get any further answers out of him, so you just sit there in silence, listening to whatever is on the local radio playing quietly in the background. Your stomach starts to rumble, so you glance at the clock: 4:54pm. No wonder, you think to yourself. You hadn’t stopped for lunch, so you were well overdue for a meal. You made a mental note to look out for restaurants on the way back.

“There’s the schoolhouse,” Choi points out a few minutes later. “We must be close.”

The sound of static fills the car as the radio cuts out. You fiddle with the knob, trying to find something else, but nothing is coming in. Guess we’re out of range.

Suddenly, the car goes silent as the engine dies. You’ve barely rolled to a stop when your partner jumps out of the car and starts running back the way you came.

“Where the hell are you going??” you shout after him. No response. With a sigh you exit the car as well. You see him standing in the road, looking at the ground. He turns as he hears you coming, pointing down to the road. 

“See the tire marks? This must be where Alex hit the brakes.”

You look at the ground to see the black marks, indicating a car had braked abruptly.

“Our car shut off right as we passed this exact spot,” he says excitedly, jogging back to the rental car. As you follow, you hear him trying the ignition a few times, until the car finally turns back on. 

“Look,” he commands as you re-enter the passenger seat. He points to the digital clock on the dashboard: 5:11pm. “What time do you have?” 

You glance at your watch: 4:56pm.

“Many instances of alien activity result in residual electromagnetic fields. It’s often been reported that those visiting such sites will experience ‘missing time’, a phenomenon we appear to have just experienced.”

The look on his face is energized - borderline excited. You stare back at him, unenthused.

“Choi, just because my watch is wrong doesn’t mean we time traveled.”

“Then why did the car turn off in this exact spot?”

“It’s a machine, cars malfunction sometimes,” you respond, nearly exasperated. “You’re trying to connect dots that aren’t even here.”

“These events happening in tandem indicate that something abnormal is going on here, Y/ln. You’re choosing to ignore substantial evidence.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, holding your head in your hands.

Choi shifts the car into drive and makes a u-turn. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“That’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said all day.”

He smiles, but says nothing.

On the drive back into town, you subtly watch him out of the corner of your eye. He drives in silence, but you can tell he’s deep in thought - about what, who knows. Despite his ridiculous antics and asinine beliefs, you admit that his passion is oddly inspiring. You find yourself starting to grow fond of your new partner for some strange, inexplicable reason. 

You push that thought to the back of your mind.

—

13 September 1993

“Can you hand me the Ramos case file?”

You look around for the requested file, to no avail. You joined Choi in his motel room early in the morning to review case files, which is proving to be incredibly difficult as he is apparently one to haphazardly leave shit all over the room while he is working. 

You finally locate the folder and toss it over to him. “You know, this might be easier if the entire place wasn’t an absolute disaster zone.” 

“I like to call it organized chaos,” he says proudly.

It has been six days since the second kid, Mark Ramos, disappeared - and Choi is convinced that he’ll be “returned” today, given that Alex was found after the same amount of time. So, much to your displeasure he planned for you two to stake out the location where he was last seen: the parking lot of the gas station corner store where the boy works.

“Wow, that sounds enthralling,” you told him, deeply sarcastically. 

As you are wrapping up prepping for the stakeout, the landline on the nightstand rings.

Your partner reaches and grabs the phone, stretching the cord across the room and placing the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he continues working. 

“Choi,” he answers curtly.

You hear a muffled voice on the other end utter a few sentences before he stops what he’s doing. A tired look washes over his face.

“God fucking dammit. Alright, thanks.” He slams the phone back onto the base.

“They just found the kid. We missed it.”

You’re secretly relieved that you don’t have to go sit in a car for hours now, but you keep that to yourself. He’s clearly peeved, and although you’ve never witnessed his bad side you’re discerning enough to know that you don’t want to be on it.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally.

To your surprise, he walks over to the bed - where you’re sitting - and plops down onto it, holding his head in his hands.

You sit there awkwardly in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to do.

“Are you okay?” you finally ask.

Your partner sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just thought we had this one.”

You feel the urge to ask the question that’s been on the back of your mind since you met him, but he seems really dejected - and you don’t want to upset him. Fuck it, you decide.

“Can I ask you something?”

He lifts his head up, resting his chin on his interlaced hands as he looks over at you.

“Sure,” he answers. You find yourself starting to get lost in his big brown eyes, but you force yourself to snap out of it.

“Why are you so obsessed with aliens? I mean - it seems like more than just an interest for you. It seems… personal, almost.”

Choi exhales, closing his eyes. He sits up, leaning back onto his hands, staring into the distance with a sense of sadness in his expression.

“When I was 12, my younger brother and I were very close. We were three years apart, but we had so much in common.

He pauses, lost in thought for a moment. He continues.

“Jinsang and I always shared a bedroom. We had a bunk bed, he slept on the top bunk.” He smiles wistfully. “He loved it up there. Always called himself ‘king of the world’. Even as he got older, he never lost his childlike wonder. He was the definition of pure at heart.”

You listen solemnly. You honestly were expecting some off-the-wall answer from him - you didn’t anticipate that it’d be anything so serious.

“Late one night, I was supposed to be asleep, but I was reading a book under the covers with my flashlight. Suddenly there was a blinding light that filled the room, and a deafeningly loud whirring noise that made me cover my ears. I pulled the blanket off me, but the only thing I could make out was some dark figures standing in the room. I couldn’t see who it was, so I assumed it was my parents. I called out for them, but the figures didn’t move. It was so loud and so bright. I was terrified.

Then - I heard my brother scream. He was screaming for help, but I was paralyzed. Suddenly everything stopped. The light and the sounds disappeared in an instant. I looked where the figures were standing, but nobody was there. I didn’t hear my brother anymore either. I jumped out of bed to check on him - but he wasn’t in his bed. I started to panic. I told myself maybe he had run out of the room, but I knew I didn’t see or hear him climb down. I ran to my parents crying, ‘Jinsang’s gone!’ They searched the house, but he wasn’t there. They searched the neighborhood, thinking he had run away, but he wasn’t anywhere. The police investigation went on for months. They never found him.”

He rests his head back on his hands. You sit there silently, not knowing what to say. Your mind races, trying to process his words: So, he believes his brother was abducted by aliens? He may be strange, but he’s not mentally disturbed, I really don’t believe he would just make something like that up… But what can the explanation be? Is it a false memory created as a trauma response to his brother disappearing?...

“I’m so sorry,” you finally tell him. Without thinking you place your hand on his shoulder - but after a moment you realize how awkward that might be. He’s your assigned work partner - you met him three days ago. But, you feel his tension slightly ease - your touch seems to be relaxing him. Choi lets out a deep exhale and sits up - you quickly drop your hand back to your side. He rests his palms on the bed, just barely grazing your pinky finger. You hold your breath as a spark of electricity rushes through your body - you ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says sincerely. “I know how it sounds to other people. But that’s why I get so invested in these cases. I have to know the truth, Y/ln.”

You sit in silence for a few moments. 

“Well,” you finally speak as you get up, returning to the scattered files, “if your theory is correct we have one last chance.”

Choi perks up, a surprised look on his face. He stares at you for a moment, then grins as he processes what you just said. You grin back at him.

“Let’s go catch these sons of bitches.”

— 14 September 1993

Your stakeout plans are back on - this time you’ll be surveilling in the middle of the woods, by the lake, where Mark had disappeared when camping with friends. Choi wakes you unnecessarily early with rapid knocking on your door. You answer in your pajamas, half asleep still. He invites himself into your room as he brushes past you and slams more files on the table. Turning to you earnestly, he begins to recant the game plan. 

“Choi,” you interrupt, trying to shut him up. He doesn’t hear you. He rambles on - practically bouncing with excitement.

“Choi,” you repeat, this time louder. He stops, his round eyes animated with enthusiasm. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s 6:30 in the morning. We’re staking out the location tonight.”

“And?”

“You could’ve at least let me sleep in til 7.”

“No time to lose!” he says eagerly as he turns back to his work, picking up where he left off. You let him yap for a minute before interrupting him once more.

“Can I at least get some coffee first?” 

You head to the nearby shitty diner together, Choi of course working through breakfast. You can tell through his excited state that he’s on edge. This has to go right - it is, according to him, the best chance he’s ever had. You spend the day going over everything, reviewing every last little detail - cooperating with whatever he needs, whether it be tactical or simply supportive. Before you know it the sun starts to go down, and you’re on your way to the middle of fucking nowhere together, to find some aliens.

Choi parks the car on the rocky path near the shore, killing the engine. It’s quiet out here - peaceful. The lake is bigger than you expected, and surprisingly beautiful as it reflects the painted colors of the sun-setting sky. 

“Romantic, isn’t it?” 

You turn and look at your partner, intending to make some snide remark, but all thoughts in your mind vanish when you see him. The golden tones of the dusk sunrays bring out a beautiful glow in his skin, his brown eyes radiating in the light; you knew he was good-looking, but seeing him this close - he is absolutely stunning.

The logical part of your brain starts setting off alarms - you know you should be feeling uncomfortable in the intimacy of the whole situation (he’s your coworker for gods’ sake!!) but it couldn’t be more opposite. The other part of your brain simply has the urge to lean in and kiss him.

“Mhmm, sure,” you reply, feigning sarcasm, veiling your true feelings.

You chat informally with Choi (“You can call me Seungcheol,” the memory of his words flashes through your mind), conversation flowing naturally as you both talk about whatever comes to mind. You find yourself laughing more often than not, and you find yourself relating to your partner more than you ever anticipated. It’s easy being with him.

Logical brain is absolutely screaming at you right now. There’s no fucking way you can allow yourself to develop feelings for your work partner - you know this. 

I’m allowed to like him as a friend, you say to yourself. You’re gonna be working with him for god knows how long, of course you need to get along. But you’re not convinced.

Conversation wanes into the night as darkness falls over the lake. You feel your eyelids grow heavy. Choi notices.

“You can sleep if you want,” he tells you. “I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“I’m fine,” you assure him. But it’s quiet, dark - and soon you feel yourself beginning to drift off.

VRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

You jolt awake, instantly blinded by the overpowering light surrounding you. A deafening booming noise permeates the air - you don’t know what it is, but it sounds like the rumbling of a thousand jet engines.

You can’t see shit, but you can tell Choi isn’t in the car. You heave open the passenger door, straining to push it open against the rush of wind engulfing the vehicle. Once your eyes adjust somewhat you find your partner about 15 feet away, camera in hand. You look up, but you can’t make out the massive object hovering over the lake - all you can see is five giant blinding spheres of light in the sky.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?” you scream to your partner - but he doesn’t hear you.

Suddenly, everything stops.

The lights, sound, and wind disappear in an instant. Disoriented in the dark, you stumble over to where Choi was standing, but you realize he’s gone - your eyes adjust and you see him sprinting down the lakeshore. In the distance you see another figure, laying on the ground. Choi approaches the figure, kneeling down next to it. You head toward them, but he turns to you and shouts from afar.

“CALL FOR BACKUP!!”

—

The figure on the beach indeed had been the missing boy. The ambulance rushed him to the hospital - but just as the previous two missing kids, he was okay. The next day you and Choi were able to get in and talk to him briefly before being shooed out by the nurse. It was the same story as the others - he didn’t remember anything, but he was completely unharmed.

Three out of three missing people now returned, safe and alive - your business here is done. You can finally get the fuck out of Iowa.

You’re pretty thrilled about leaving, but Choi is ecstatic. You remind him neither of you actually solved anything, but he doesn’t care. He got his photos of whatever the fuck was above the lake that night - it doesn’t answer all of his questions, but nevertheless he got what he came for.

It’s dark by the time you depart from the hospital, driving back to go pack up your things so you can leave first thing in the morning. 

Choi parks the car, and you walk back to your rooms. As you approach the motel, he suddenly swings his arm out in front of you to stop you - the door to your room is slightly ajar, the lock broken. Choi draws his gun, and you follow suit. Holding up his fingers, he silently counts down from three. He bursts through the door, sweeping the room. You follow, turning on the light to see the entire room has been utterly ransacked - the contents of your suitcase as well as all the files from your briefcase are strewn everywhere. 

Choi pops out of the bathroom. “All clear, but the bathroom window is open - if they were just here, they still might be nearby.” He sprints out of the room, pausing briefly and motioning for you to wait. “You stay here, I’ll sweep the area.” He’s gone in a flash.

You turn around and grimace at the absolute mess left behind by whoever the fuck was here. With a sigh you begin to clean up the mess, starting by gathering all the documents. As you sort through them all to put them back in some sort of order, you note that everything seems to be there. Your personal belongings all seem to be accounted for as well. Whatever they were searching for, they clearly didn’t find it.

Choi reappears in your room, sweating and breathing heavily. He shakes his head in disappointment. “Nobody in sight. Asked the manager if he saw anything suspicious, but he clearly didn’t know shit.”

He removes his suit jacket and throws it on the table before plopping down in the singular chair. He runs his hand through his sweaty hair as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Anything missing?”

You shake your head. “Not a single thing.”

“Shit,” Choi mumbles under his breath. “They were probably looking for my room.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Who-”

He waves his hand at you, interrupting. “Don’t worry about it.”

You are worried about it, but you know he’s not going to elaborate even if pressed. 

“Okay. Well, I want to shower and go to sleep, so kindly get the fuck out.” Your tone isn’t angry, you’re just exhausted. 

Choi gets up, but instead of leaving he deadbolts the door and returns to his seat.

“Absolutely not, what if they come back? I’ll keep watch.”

You give him the most exasperated look. “Are you shitting me? I don’t need you to keep guard, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not taking that chance,” he insists as he crosses his arms. 

You’re stubborn as hell, but in the short time you’ve known Seungcheol Choi he’s done nothing but give you a run for your money in that department.

You roll your eyes. You’re too tired to argue with him. “Fine, whatever. Just give me some privacy, alright?”

Choi salutes you as he turns his chair around. “Roger that.”

You shower and make your way back to your bed. Choi is still sitting in the chair, facing the locked door, his gun and holster sitting on the table right next to him. 

“Are you going to be able to sleep in that chair?” you ask. “Looks uncomfortable.”

Without turning, he replies. “I won’t be sleeping.”

“Seriously? You don’t need to stay up all night just to-”

“I’m not sleeping, Y/ln, it’s not up for debate.”

You stare at the back of his head. Sighing, you pull the covers up and go to turn off the lamp, but you pause.

“Choi?” you call out in a soft voice.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He turns his head ever so slightly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Goodnight, Y/ln.”

With a swift click you pull the chain on the lamp, and the room is flooded in darkness. As your eyes adjust, the moonlight seeps in past the closed blinds, and you can just make out Choi’s shadow as he keeps watch. Protecting you. 

Within seconds, you are fast asleep.

—

You open your eyes, the bright early morning sun rays peeking in through the window. You lay there, contemplating going back to sleep, when you remember the events of last night. You sit up abruptly to see your partner still in the chair, still facing the door, awake.

“Did you really stay up the whole night?” are the first words out of your mouth.

Choi turns around, his eyes tired but still alert. He nods.

“Did you know you snore in your sleep? Very quietly - it’s cute.”

“Oh, shut up” you grumble as you get out of bed.

Choi rises and grabs his jacket before heading toward the door. “Get ready, we have to be at the airport in an hour.” The door shuts behind him before you can respond with something snarky.

As you make your way to the parked car with your suitcase, you see your partner waiting for you - zoned out in the driver’s seat. 

You yank the driver’s side door open, startling him as he nearly jumps out of his seat. 

“Absolutely not,” you tell him sternly. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, I’m driving.”

“I’m fine, Y/n.”

You go to yell at him when you pause, realizing he just called you by your first name for the first time. He must be delirious, you think to yourself. 

“No, you’re not. And I’d like to make it back home in one piece, thank you.”

“Y/n-”

“Seungcheol Choi get your dumb ass out of the fucking car NOW.”

The expression that washes over his face looks like that of a scolded puppy. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to shout at him. 

“Okay, okay! Fine, you win.” He gets out of the car, walking around to the passenger side. As he opens the door he looks at you, trying to conceal the grin spreading across his face, but failing. 

“I like you like this. You should yell at me more often.” 

You stare at him, exhausted. “You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told,” he says with a wink as he disappears into the car. 

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time this week. After a few deep breaths, you reluctantly join your partner in the car. 

“And since when do you call me by my first name?” you inquire as you turn the ignition. The car engine comes to life with a rumble. 

Choi looks at you, his eyelids heavy. He gives you a sleepy smile as you back out of the parking space. 

“I told you you can call me Seungcheol,” he reminds you. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He gives no response, but shrugs, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. You stare at him for a brief moment. His black curls lay unruly against his forehead, brushing against his long eyelashes. A faint shadow graces his jawline - the result of not having shaved today. The top few buttons of his shirt remain undone; he didn’t even bother with a tie. Once again, you find yourself stunned by how handsome he is. You push that thought away as your attention returns to operating the vehicle. You shift gears and pull out of the lot. 

“Take a nap, dummy,” you tell him softly. 

—

Not five minutes have passed into your drive before the sound of gentle snoring greets your right ear. You glance over to see Choi positively zonked out in the passenger seat. A grin involuntarily appears on your face - he may be a headstrong pain in the ass, but even the toughest agents eventually fall victim to the cursed necessity of sleep. 

The “highway” out of town toward the airport is nothing more than a vacant country road. You drive for at least fifteen minutes without seeing a single other car. In the absence of Choi yammering on about some off-kilter conspiracy theory, or recounting a tale of a previous case that seems too fantastical to be true, your mind starts to wander. The events of the past week replay in your head. Unlike your partner you don’t quite believe you saw an alien spaceship, but whatever it was certainly is making you question a lot of things.

Your musings are cut short when Choi suddenly jolts awake, nearly making you jump. 

“Jesus, Choi, you scared me.”

He blinks dully a few times, the gears in his head creaking back to life as he tries to reorient himself. After a brief moment of mild panic he regains lucidity, slumping back into his seat with a groan. He yawns as he rubs his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he responds drowsily. 

“Did you know you snore in your sleep? It’s cute,” you jest, repeating his words from earlier back to him. After a moment, he realizes. 

“Fuck off,” he mumbles - but out of the corner of your eye you see him grin. 

You turn the radio on low volume, tuning into the rock station the dial was already set on. A few minutes pass without words, the crooning voice of Mick Jagger supplementing the conversation. Suddenly, Choi perks up, looking in the rear view mirror before turning around to peer out the back window. You glance in the mirror to see a dark car in the distance. 

“Finally, some sign of life,” you remark. “I was beginning to think we’d entered The Twilight Zone or something.”

Choi says nothing, but you notice the concern on his face. I wish he would stop being so paranoid, you think to yourself. He turns back around but keeps his eye on the mirror. Not even a minute later he snaps his head back to look out the rear window again. 

“Shit,” he exclaims, his voice disgruntled. 

You look in the mirror again to see the same car, rapidly approaching as it speeds toward you. Your eyes dart forward again, only to see another dark car up ahead - parked in the middle of the two-lane road, creating a blockade. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Choi, can you please enlighten me as to what the fuck is going on,” you ask nervously. 

“Fucking SHIT,” he shouts, not elaborating. 

“CHOI.”

“Stop the car,” he gripes, his head in his hands. 

You apply the brakes, as you couldn’t keep going even if you wanted to. The car ahead is blocking the whole road, and the trees on either side are preventing you from being able to swerve around it. 

The car following you parks, also blocking the road behind you. Two men in dark suits emerge from each car and casually surround the rental. One of them, from the car in front, walks over to the passenger side of your rental - he knocks on the glass twice. 

“Get out of the car.”

Choi unbuckles his seatbelt, taking his time, before reaching for the door handle. He pulls the latch and opens the door slowly. 

“Both of you.”

Your partner turns to you. “Do what they say,” he says quietly.

You follow the mystery man’s orders. It’s early, but the sun already stings your skin as you step out of the car.

You look at the men, trying to get some sense as to who they are, but you’ve never seen any of them before - you presume they would have nothing on themselves that would give any sort of identification anyway. The men’s guns remain in their holsters, but their hands rest on the frames. You don’t doubt that they would shoot you in a heartbeat if you made any funny moves.

“Open the trunk,” the same man orders to neither of you in particular. His tone is stern, but not overly aggressive.

You make eye contact with your partner. He gives you a slight nod.

You take the keys from the ignition and walk to the rear, inserting them in the lock and turning the key. The trunk lid gives a loud clunk as it pops open. The man signals to the two men that came up from behind you - they approach the trunk, pushing you out of the way as they open it. Choi’s hands clench into a fist, but he doesn’t move.

The men carelessly rummage through the trunk’s contents until they find what they were apparently looking for: Choi’s camera bag. The man opens it and pulls out the chunky Nikon, removing its film. 

“Hey, be careful with that!” Choi shouts angrily. 

Once the other man finishes fishes out the remaining film canisters from the bag, they put the camera back. They signal to the ringleader - he nods. The other men immediately return to their car.

The man in charge claps his hand onto Choi’s shoulder forcefully. 

“Thank you, Agents Choi and Y/ln - very much for your cooperation,” he says smugly. Choi shoves the man’s hand off his shoulder, teeth clenched. Without another word, the man heads back to his car. 

“You won’t get away with this forever,” Choi shouts after him. 

The man keeps walking. He doesn’t even turn his head as he replies mockingly.

“Keep up the good work, Agent Choi.”

You watch the cocky bastard enter the driver’s seat - both cars immediately take off. It was over as quickly as it had begun. 

You know Choi is infuriated, but more than anything he looks absolutely dejected. He leans onto the car, his head resting on his arm in defeat. 

“Who were those men?” you ask him quietly - but you suspect he doesn’t know either.

He takes a few moments before he lifts his head, resuming his posture. His saddened eyes lock with yours. 

“They’re the sons of bitches who make sure nobody knows the truth. Lying to the public, hiding information even from us - destroying all evidence that UFOs exist.”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I really thought I had it this time. Turns out, I was just really fucking stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” you tell him firmly. Softer, you add, “And I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you about… well, everything I guess.”

He laughs softly. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I’m the crazy alien guy in the basement, after all.”

He nudges you with his elbow, his voice friendly. “You know, you’re alright Agent Y/ln.”

You smile. “You’re alright too, Seungcheol.”

His face lights up at the sound of his first name. He smiles back at you warmly.

“Now, let’s actually get the fuck out of Iowa,” he says with vigor.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

—

20 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Have a seat, Agent Y/ln.”

You sit in the sturdy oak chair across from the Assistant Director’s desk. You are, once again, joined by the nameless man - smoking his cigarette silently in the corner of the room.

“I read your report on the Iowa case,” Bergman tells you as he flips through the open file on his desk.

You wait for him to continue.

“It is certainly… of lower quality than your usual work.”

You hide a grimace. “What exactly was the problem with it, sir? I was very thorough.”

He gives you a tired look. “Yes, of course - but the report itself is not what I take issue with. What I take issue with is its contents. I assigned you to the x-files as a voice of reason - to rein in Agent Choi, not perpetuate his outlandish theories.

“With all due respect, sir, I followed standard protocol. My report gives no indication that I agree with Agent Choi’s conviction that what we saw was indeed a UFO, and that the government is responsible for some larger conspiracy - I simply detailed everything that I witnessed in Spirit Lake objectively as I experienced it.”

Bergman sighs before closing the file. “Alright, Agent Y/ln. You do good work. But next time, maybe try to prevent your partner from chasing after little green men.” 

“They’re supposedly gray, actually. According to Agent Choi,” you inform him matter-of-factly. 

Bergman stares at you, incredulous. He opens his mouth to say something, but gives up. He waves you out of his office. 

“Dismissed.”

[to be continued…]

[sokoviansimp]

Control

✒ Pairings: dom!wanda x subAgent!femreader, bestfriend!Nat x bestfriend!reader

✒ Summary: New experiences provide clarity and confusion as you begin your training with Wanda.

✒ Tags and Warnings: 18+! Mature themes, mind control, early dom/sub dynamics, enemies to lovers, slow burn

✒ Author's Note: sorry this took so long, I'm a slow writer and I was really sick for two weeks.

✒ Word Count: 8973

✒ Read Time: 20 minutes

Masterlist : Socials : Series Masterlist

After weeks of recovery, you were finally allowed to sleep in your own room. Though, to your surprise, all of your belongings were moved from your room at the SHIELD base to one inside the compound. The thought of being in another foreign place instead of the comfort of your familiar bedroom was almost as bad as knowing a team of agents had gone through all of your private things.

You were brought up to a room on the third floor. It wasn’t completely on purpose, but it had just so worked out that floor two housed the males on the team, and floor three had the females, which was just Wanda and Natasha, and now you. Nat wanted to keep you close during your recovery and introduction to the team. She also felt it was fitting for you to be close to Wanda if she was meant to be your mentor.

Nat made sure to show you around the entire floor as she introduced you to your new room, “I’m sure you’re tired so I won’t stay, but if you need anything I’m right down the hall, and Wanda is right next door,” she assured.

“Thanks, Nat,” you said genuinely, thankful for everything she’s done for you throughout this experience. She was the best friend you had and she always earned that position with the way she cared for you. The two of you were soulmates in a way that sometimes, only friends can be.

Once you were left alone in your room, you quickly realized how tired you truly were. It was late in the afternoon by this point and you had a long day as doctors came in and out to give you dismissal plans and best practices. While it wasn’t your typical bedtime yet, you decided that you’d rather get rest now so that you could have a full day back to the real world tomorrow.

As you moved around the room to get ready for bed, you appreciated the effort of whoever transported your things. It was clear that they attempted to put everything as closely as possible back to the way it was in your previous living arrangements. The room was a different layout so it was impossible to be exact, but you could tell that they put care in settling you in.

Even in the new environment, it felt nice to go through your nightly routine again. It really made the moment when you finally sunk down into the fresh sheets that much cozier. You put on some sitcoms from the 2000s, but you knew you’d fall asleep before it was over. The television was loud enough to understand with captions and soft enough to allow you to drift off to sleep as you wished.

About a week goes by as Nat familiarizes you with all of the amenities and protocols to get you adjusted as a permanent resident of the compound, and when she’s busy, she has Wanda take over. You notice that your tiredness isn’t improving at all. You’ve always been known for being chill and easygoing, and you always felt tired in some way, that was just normal for you. Since the incident, though, your exhaustion has felt like it’s grown tenfold. The doctors expected that you’d be nearing full recovery by 2 weeks, but you felt something must be off track.

By the end of the week; you’re getting sick of being babied, and even though you haven't fully recovered you think you might just go crazy without some fresh air. You didn’t make your way down to the kitchen for breakfast until almost 11:30am, where Wanda was already preparing lunch.

“Got a full night’s sleep?” Wanda sarcastically pondered aloud as you tiredly shuffled through the cabinets for some ceral.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you grogily answered as you added milk to your frosted flakes.

“Maybe you should go back to bed then,” Wanda suggested

As if the suggestion alone gave you a burst of energy, you sprung back, “Oh no. I am done laying around like a potato! I am not spending a single solitary second in my room until I get outside for some fresh air.” there was a beat of silence once you finished your short rant, as if Wanda felt like you needed a breather after your small outburst.

“Alright- Well we can go out back and work on controlling your powers,” she offered once the silence ran its course.

“Yes! Perfect!” you confirmed as you took the first bite of your cereal.

Once Wanda finished up her lunch, she sat across from you to eat in mostly silence. It was a comfortable silence though, the crunch of your cereal breaking it ever so slightly. The two of you sat there and scrolled on your phones until your food was finished. You thoroughly cleaned your plate while you waited for Wanda to finish up her meal.

Even though you were quite familiar with the compound, visiting Nat often. You had no idea what surrounded the area. Adversely, Wanda spent a lot of time exploring the terrain that the compound sat within, especially when she was first adjusting to her new home. She explored to take her mind off of the events that led her to reside at the compound and forget about the clinical aesthetic that lacked any personality or comfort. It gave her an outlet that felt like an escape from reality.

“Where are we going?” You felt like she was leading you to some secret secluded area where no one could hear you scream, and in a way, she was.

“To work on your control,” that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. So you did what you do best, offer a snarky response.

You huffed, “That’s exactly what someone would say before leading me to certain torture, where no one can hear me scream,” you said with a dramatic undertone.

She looked back at you, slightly chuckling, “If I wanted to torture you, I wouldn’t drag you all the way out here to do it,” she bit back confidently with a sly smile creeping up, giving you a shiver down your spine that you blamed on the wind.

The spot that she settled at overlooked a mountain in the distance with a river flowing between the perch where the two of you stood. By the lookout, there was a long log makeshift to act as a bench, which Wanda frequently used to sit and ponder her thoughts and feelings. No one else really knew this spot existed other than her, she never spoke about it or showed anyone else until now. She wasn’t too keen on showing you her sacred getaway spot, but it was the safest place she could think of to practice your powers.

You gushed over the gorgeous area as soon as the overlook became clear and revealed its true beauty. The trees became more sparse as you walked, and the view opened up for you showcasing the natural landscape, “Wow, this is- it’s beautiful out here. I never knew this spot existed.”

“Yeah, no one does and I’d like to keep it that way,” Wanda said pointedly, ensuring that you weren’t going to start blabbing about it to the entire compound. If Tony got wind of it, surely he’d start building infrastructure around it and Wanda would lose her favorite spot.

Your hands shot up in defense, “Of course, I won’t tell a soul,” you confirmed.

Wanda, with an unamused look in your direction, “Not even Natasha.”

“Oh. Yeah, uh. Well, glad you clarified. Not even Natasha. Where should we tell them we are?” You asked, trying to come up with a story now because you aren’t very good at lying or even withholding information from your best friend, especially if you have to think it up on the spot.

“They won’t ask.”

Unfortunately for you, even if she doesn't ask, chances are high that you’d offer up the information accidentally anyway. You needed to come up with a cover story now to get it out of the way so that you dont have to come up with an explanation on the spot, “Well, what if they do? I just feel like we should be on the same page here.” you pushed.

“Y/N, it’s not that deep. Just say that we went to the other side of the compound grounds. See the river here?” you nodded, shifting your focus to the flowing water, “It spills into a massive lake on the other side of the compound.”

You acknowledged her explanation and with that, you were able to carry on with whatever Wanda had planned for you. She didn't have a particularly thought-out plan in place, but she had an outline of the steps she figured you would need to go through to grasp control of your abilities.

In order to help you, she needed to know what she was working with and how much power you truly wielded. After plenty of hesitation from you and coaxing from her, you outstretched your arm toward the mountain, “Go on, give it everything you’ve got,” Wanda encouraged.

Try as you might, nothing happened. Your muscles tensed as you attempted to make something happen, but you were stood there looking like a fool, “It’s- nothing’s happening!” you grunted as you let your arm fall back down to your side in frustration.

Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle, “Wow, finally something you’re not perfect at on the first try.” she claimed.

This hit a bit of a soft spot for you, “Contrary to popular belief, Maximoff, I’m rarely good at anything on my first try. I spent countless hours of practice and training to be where I am today.”

“Try again then” Wanda responded plainly, not fully convinced of the pity card you were playing.

You outstretched your arm again, trying to make something happen, but nothing did. Frustration began taking over and you tried again, with all your might you were trying to make something, anything, happen.

Wanda saw the way you became aggravated and quickly put a stop to it when she noticed your face getting red. Even though she enjoyed watching you struggle, she was nervous the effort you were putting in could become a hazard if you suddenly released the right type of energy.

“Ok, that’s enough. Take a breather,” she said as she reached out to put your hand back at your side and gently rubbed your arm in a soothing motion to calm you down. You took a breath, gathering yourself back together.

“Let’s try this,” Wanda started as she captured your gaze, “Close your eyes,” she waited for you to follow suit, but you hesitated, afraid of the vulnerability, “come on. Just do it,” she pushed, and you starkly fell into line. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the way you jolted to follow her command.

“Good,” she approved, which brought that same tingle to your body from earlier. You’re not sure that you’ve ever heard praise leave her mouth directed your way. The redhead reached out with a featherlike touch and glided her pointer finger along your arm, “Now take a deep breath and focus on this feeling,” she moved from your left arm to the top of your neck, dragging down the middle of your back. It felt like your skin was on fire at this point, every small touch reverberating 10-fold across your body. “Feel how the energy in your body moves.” She practically whispered in a hushed tone.

You could feel it, everything was so sensitive. You weren’t sure if it was because you were actually paying attention to the way the air met your skin, or because of the way Wanda was gliding her fingers across, “Do you feel that?” Wanda questioned, barely audible so as to not break your concentration, causing you to slowly nod in confirmation as you continued to breathe slowly.

Removing her fingers from your skin, Wanda took a step back from you, “Now keep that same focus and raise your left arm out in front of you.” You did as you were told, slowly raising your arm and letting it hang until she gave further instruction, “Perfect, now shift that focus to your left hand. Don’t pay attention to anything else,” she stated firmly, “just my words and the feeling of energy flowing to your hand”

She could tell you were concentrating hard by the way your brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Now, imagine the energy flowing from the tips of your fingers. Concentrate everything to your hand and imagine it pushing out.”

You did as she said, and you were so focused on the feeling in your hand that any minuscule movement felt similar to a creaky floorboard. Soon enough, your hand started to tingle and you even felt the temperature begin to rise.

“That’s it, now push it through, get rid of it.” Wanda guided. You could feel the energy slowly reverberating from your hand in waves, it was slow at first but once it was out you quickly ramped up to a more sizable wave of low-frequency acoustic energy.

You were quickly losing control of it as the seismic waves grew quicker than you anticipated. Without even knowing what happened, you felt a comforting fog take over your mind, and your arm quickly dropped to your side. You stood there in complete bliss until the fog faded fully from your mind, “Y/N?” Wanda interrupted, “How are you feeling?”

You turned around to face her, “Tired,” you said with hooded eyes. Using your powers took a lot out of you, especially when you were already tired to begin with, “-but, that felt amazing!”

Wanda smiled in return, “I know, getting a hang of your powers is a really good feeling, I remember when I-”

“No, the feeling that came after, it was like my brain shifted and went into a different state. It was so relaxing. Does that happen to you when you use your powers too?”

That wasn’t the answer Wanda was expecting, “Oh, no Y/N. What you felt was me, using my powers on you. I noticed you were having trouble keeping pace with the volume of waves, so I stepped in to break off the outburst,” she explained.

“Oh.” that made sense, you weren’t sure how you were able to stop so easily when moments before it felt like you were losing control. That feeling though, god it felt amazing. Part of you craved it as if everything fell into place in that moment. “Can we go back now? I’m so tired,” you asked as a yawn escaped like a bookend to your query.

“Already? We just got here.” Wanda teased before she remembered you’re still in recovery mode. “Yeah, I’m really tired,” you slurred as fatigue slammed into you similar to the force of a freight train and you visibly stumbled trying to keep upright. Wanda quickly caught you and guided you over to the nearby rock to sit for a moment, “I-I’m sorry, I just-” you started to apologize but Wanda cut you off, “Y/N stop, you don’t need to apologize.” she reassured you, and when you looked up to meet her gaze you were surprised to see the complete absence of anger or disgust, something you weren't used to.

Once you got ahold of your bearings, the two of you headed straight to the compound. Upon entering, you immediately plopped onto the nearest thing available to sleep on, which just happened to be the couch in the common room, not even bothering to make the trek upstairs to your bedroom.

“Y/N, I think we should go to the med bay and get you checked out,” Wanda stated trying to urge you off of the couch.

“Mmm, later,” you responded groggily as if you were half asleep already.

“Come on, surely your bed is cozier than this,” Wanda persisted, but there was no response this time. She stood there for a couple of seconds longer, staring at your form and waiting to see your chest rise and fall a couple of times before heading off to the medbay to get Bruce’s opinion. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, and she would surely never admit it, but she cared about your well-being.

Bruce assured Wanda that she was right in bringing this to his attention, while not urgent, it would be best to get you checked out. You should be recovered enough by this point that extreme exhaustion shouldn’t come so easily.

You woke up a few hours later and after pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, you headed up to your room. Hearing the movement, and soft noise of the TV turning on through the walls of your room, the woman next door made her way over to knock on your door.

“Come in!” you called from the bed, as you kept your attention on the TV knowing it was only Nat coming in to hang out.

“How are you feeling?”

Taken off guard by a different voice, you did a double take, “Wanda? Sorry I was expecting Nat. You just caught me off guard. I’m feeling better, just needed a nap.” you explained, trying to straighten your posture and appear like you’ve miraculously healed with that short nap.

“That’s good! I spoke to Bruce and-” Wanda began, before you cut in, “Spoke to Bruce? What? Why? I’m fine!” you blurted out, hating the thought of being brought back to medbay for further testing, you’ve always hated doctors, and especially hospitals. With how much time you’ve spent in a hospital the last month, if you never went back, it’d be too soon.

“He said you shouldn’t be tired anymore, and it’d be good to get checked out.” She explained.

You shook your head, “I’m fine Wanda. This is nothing new for me, being tired is my normal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the best part is coming up.” You say motioning to the sitcom you had playing on the tv.

“When Clair tells Phil that she was too lazy to wait in line for his iPad?” Wanda challenged knowing exactly what episode you were watching, figuring you were just trying to get rid of her.

“No. Well, kind of I guess, but after that Phil goes to the batting cages as a coping mechanism.” you clarified.

“How is that the best part?” Wanda pushed for a more in depth explanation.

Part of you felt like you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, but another deeper part of you almost wanted to open up and let Wanda into all the details of your life, “Softball was a big part of my childhood, so it always felt like the batting cages were a safe place for me too, a place to stop overthinking and just focus on things like my stance or the angles I caught the ball at.”

It’s not the answer Wanda expected, but it made a lot of sense now, “You crash birthdays there too, or is that just a Phil thing?”

You both let out a laugh, “No, no. Phil takes the cake on that one.”

“Mind if I join?” she phrased it as a question, but she closed the door and moved to sit next to you on your bed before receiving an answer, and treating it more as a statement.

Not knowing how to decline at that point, or if you even wanted to you just kind of shook your head awkwardly and turned the volume up. The two of you sat in silence, other than the crunch of your cereal and the laughter you shared at the funny parts.

Together you watched about 2.5 episodes before the cozy atmosphere lulled you into a peaceful slumber. Wanda hadn’t even noticed you were sleeping until she glanced over because you weren’t laughing anymore. She couldn’t help but take note of your contorted position, clearly uncomfortable.

Concern etched subtly across her features, Wanda gently shook your shoulder, trying to rouse you from your deep sleep. "Hey, Y/N," she whispered softly, "you're sleeping in a pretty awkward position. You should move."

Y/N stirred, emitting a soft whine in response, but made no effort to adjust her position. Wanda sighed softly, realizing that coaxing Y/N awake might prove to be a challenge. With a gentle touch, she brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N's face, a fond smile tugging at her lips.

"You're stubborn, you know that?" Wanda murmured affectionately, her fingers tracing your cheek. "Fine, I guess I'll take care of you then."

With careful hands, Wanda eased you into a more comfortable position, tucking a pillow under your head and arranging the blankets around you. As she watched you settle into a deeper sleep, a warmth that she hadn’t expected filled Wanda's heart.

With that realization, she hurried out of your room as quickly as she could without disturbing you and pushing any positive feeling she suddenly felt toward you as far away as she could. God, she couldn’t stand you. Once she got back to her own quarters she asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to send both you and Bruce a reminder to look into your exhaustion so that she wouldn’t have to bring it up with you again.

Your footsteps quickened as you rounded the corner, hoping to evade Bruce's watchful gaze. The prospect of returning to the medbay filled you with a sense of unease, a heavy feeling you couldn't quite shake.

Bruce, Wanda, and now even Natasha had all been insistent on your follow-up examination, but you continued to make excuses and delay the inevitable. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the cold, clinical atmosphere of the medbay sent shivers down your spine, stirring up memories you'd rather forget.

With each passing moment, your anxiety mounted, a knot tightening in your stomach at the mere thought of facing medical procedures and probing questions. You knew Bruce and Nat meant well, you were still on guard with Wanda, but the fear of hospitals and medical procedures was deeply ingrained within you. Years spent avidly making sure no one else was privy to this fear because being a SHIELD agent requires bravery and courage, so how could you be a good agent and simultaneously be afraid of the doctor? You couldn’t. No one could know.

As you ducked into a nearby corridor looking over your shoulder, you were relieved to find Bruce's figure out of sight. But the guilt gnawed at you, knowing you were avoiding someone who was only trying to help for the sake of your own discomfort.

Yet, the fear of hospitals felt overwhelming, you felt a sort of primal instinct that seemed to grip you tighter with each step. You couldn't bring yourself to face it head-on, not yet anyway.

With a heavy sigh, you resolved to ignore the issue until it went away. For now, you’d continue to dodge Bruce's attempts at persuasion.

Days passed with you mostly keeping to yourself, Nat was away on a mission for a few days so that made things a bit easier. When you did venture out of your room for things like food and drinks, you made sure to scout out the area before entering to ensure you wouldn’t run into anyone.

As Wanda busies herself in the kitchen, the air is infused with an enticing medley of aromas that dance and mingle, creating a sensory symphony.

The rich, savory scent of sautéed onions fills the air, their sweet fragrance wafting from the skillet as Wanda expertly caramelizes them to perfection. The gentle sizzle of the onions echoes through the kitchen, a comforting sound that signals the beginning of a culinary masterpiece.

Next comes the earthy aroma of garlic, its pungent essence mingling with the sweetness of the onions to create a harmonious blend of flavors. As Wanda minces the garlic cloves with practiced precision, the kitchen is enveloped in the warm embrace of this aromatic duo.

“Hey Wanda, Have you seen Y/N?” Bruce asks, entering the kitchen and immediately bing hit with the aroma of Wanda’s Solyanka dish, “Mmm, smells good in here!” he added

Wanda smiled at the compliment as she turned to Bruce, “Not in a couple of days, how’d her check-in go?” she asked while continuing to stir the dish.

“It hasn’t, I think she may be avoiding me.” He deadpanned

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, when I first mentioned a follow-up examination to her. She very suddenly had a bunch of things to do and ran off, and I haven't seen her since. This was 4 days ago.” Bruce explained as he rummaged through the fridge for a drink.

Wanda nodded as the gears began to turn in her brain, she let out a hum, “Interesting. F.R.I.D.A.Y where is Y/N now?” she spoke aloud to the artificial assistant.

“Y/N is currently practicing archery in the training sector,” F.R.I.D.A.Y informed.

“Well, at least she’s not in bed,” Wanda dryly chuckled, adding the last bits of tomato to the pot.

Bruce nodded, “Yea, I’d still like to get that follow-up in though. I have a meeting in about 10 minutes, do you think you could talk to her?”

“What, why me?” she practically whined.

Bruce smiled, almost devilish, and simply said “You’re her mentor.” before leaving the room with his glass of mango juice.

Wanda rolled her eyes as she turned back to the pot on the stove, it was almost done. She just needed to put it on low to simmer for a bit. Though, as she made her way out of the kitchen, she almost felt a sense of excitement. Must’ve been because her dish was coming along so nicely, because there’s no way she would ever be excited to see you. Right?

As Wanda made her way to the training sector, her steps purposeful and determined, she couldn't shake the nagging worry that had been gnawing at her since Bruce had mentioned your unscheduled appointments in the medbay.

Spotting you across the training room, Wanda approached with a gentle smile, hoping to broach the subject delicately. But as she drew nearer, she noticed the tension in your posture, the furrow of your brow, and the restless energy that seemed to radiate from your figure.

"Hey, Y/N," Wanda greeted softly, her tone gentle as she approached, "I was looking for you. Bruce mentioned you haven't been to see him yet. Is everything okay?"

Your reaction was immediate, a defensive edge creeping into your voice as you shrugged off Wanda's concern. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just been busy with training, you know how it is."

Wanda wasn't convinced. She could see through the facade, recognizing the telltale signs of agitation and avoidance. Something was clearly bothering you, and she could see it was something you weren't ready to share.

"Wanda, I'm fine," you insisted, your voice tinged with frustration. "I don't need to see Bruce. It's not a big deal. I’m not even tired anymore, I’m literally shooting arrows right now. Would a tired person be doing that?" you reasoned in a rambling fashion.

But Wanda could sense the underlying fear in your words, the unspoken truth you were trying so hard to conceal. She also knew better than to push, because she knew better than anyone that some wounds ran deeper than others and required patience and understanding to heal.

With a reassuring smile, Wanda reached out to gently squeeze your shoulder and before she could even filter her words, her mouth started spewing, "Okay, Y/N. Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. No judgments, I promise."

Your tense expression softened, a flicker of gratitude in your eyes before confusion came crashing in, “Uh- are you feeling ok?” not only was that possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever said, but you were pretty sure it was also the only nice thing Wanda has ever said to you.

Trying to build back her stone-cold composure against you, Wanda snapped back, “What? Have you never had someone see that you’re hurting and be nice to you? God Y/L/N, don’t read too much into it.” she scoffed and turned to leave the training gym, “Class at 6:30 tomorrow morning, don’t be late!” she yelled out on her way to the door, without even turning back around to face you, “OH! And meet up with Bruce!”

“I AM FINE!” you shouted back.

You made sure to go to bed early that night so that you’d be able to get up early enough to make your meeting with Wanda without some sarcastic comment about your tardiness. It was still difficult but you needed to be on time to help prove your point that you don’t need Bruce, and you don’t need a follow-up exam.

The spot was a lot chillier than the last time you were there, you could still see the morning dew on the grass as the wind softly whipped through the clearing with crisp morning air.

Wanda was already there when you arrived, it was still dark but you could see her scarlet magic carrying her through the air as she set up targets across the way.

“Oh good, you’re finally here,” Wanda commented as she landed back on the ground on your side of the clearing.

“Hey, I was ON TIME. You can’t complain about that.” you defended.

She looked at you with a devilish grin and smugly claimed, “Does S.H.I.E.L.D. teach their agents anything anymore? On-time is late and 10 minutes early is on time.”

You just rolled your eyes in response as you changed the subject to ask about the new additions to the terrain, “What are those for?” you said pointing across the river.

“Something for you to aim at. Come, follow me.” she gestured as she began scaling a nearby boulder. It was easy enough to climb up the side of, almost like nature created it’s own version of stairs. The top provided an even better view of the clearing and a clear visual of where the sky hangs over the mountain.

Wanda made herself comfortable sitting at the top, leaving enough room for you to sit next to her as she patted the ground gesturing for you to join her, “What are we doing up here?” you asked, cautious of what she had planned for you.

“Gosh, what’s with all the questions Y/L/N? Why don’t you just go with the flow for once in your life”

“Fine.” you agreed as you took the spot next to her.

A couple of beats of silence pass as you both stare into the darkness that still covers the sky when Wanda finally turns to you, “Mornings are my favorite time to be out here.” she admitted.

“Why? It’s cold.”

Instead of immediately addressing your question, she turned back to the sky and took a deep breath. As if on queue, the sun slowly started to peek out from behind the mountain and paint the sky with warm hues like a work of art, “That’s why.”

“Wow,” you took it all in as you sat there in awe. The two of you shared a comfortable silence until the sun had completed its ascent over the mountain line.

As you struggled to harness your newfound powers, frustration simmered beneath the surface. Despite Wanda's surprisingly patient guidance, controlling the unpredictable energy coursing through your veins proved to be a daunting task.

With each failed attempt, your frustration mounted, a knot tightening in your stomach as you grappled with the overwhelming force of your abilities. But amidst the chaos, there was a flicker of something else—a thrill that coursed through your veins whenever Wanda intervened to take control.

Wanda watched you closely, her brow furrowed in concentration as she assessed the situation. She could sense your struggle when the raw power of your abilities threatened to spiral out of control. With a steady hand, Wanda reached out, her telekinetic powers weaving through the air as she penetrated your mind, guiding her movements with a gentle yet firm touch.

As Wanda assumed control, a wave of relief washed over you, a sensation that was both exhilarating and disconcerting. You surrendered to Wanda's influence, relinquishing control with a sense of surrender that both frightened and intrigued you.

But beneath the surface, there was a secret you dared not admit—a part of you relished in the feeling of giving up control, the intimacy of connection ignited a fire within you that couldn't quite be extinguished. It was a forbidden thrill, tainted by your tumultuous history and the unspoken tension that lingered between the two of you.

As the training session continued and you started to get the hang of it a bit more, there were a few times that you feigned a lack of restraint, the occasional slip-up, a deliberate ploy to elicit Wanda's intervention once more. To relish in the feeling of her control. You were ashamed of the forbidden desires that stirred deep down whenever Wanda's telekinetic touch enveloped your mind, binding the two of you together in ways you couldn't even begin to understand.

Wanda was quite literally inside of your mind, she knew what you were doing, and still, she played along. She recognized the subtle cues in your behavior. She understood the unspoken desire that lingered beneath the surface, mirrored in her own developing longing for intimacy.

Instead of reprimanding you for your deliberate slip-ups, Wanda chose to covertly lean into the unspoken tension that crackled between you. With a subtle flick of her wrist, she amplified her telekinetic influence. Your mind clouded with a thick fog, nearly impossible to see through, keeping your thoughts tame as you subconsciously followed Wanda’s lead.

Loving the feeling of having a complete hold on your mind, she reveled in not only the way that you hung on her every command, but also in the way you enjoyed it. She was going to have fun with this, give you small tastes until you’re begging for more.

Slowly, she released the hold she had taken over your mind. As the fog started the thin out, the first thing you heard was Wanda calling out your name with an artificial tinge of worry, “Y/N?” You blinked rapidly a few times before fully coming back to your senses, “are you ok?” her words were soft and endearing.

“Yea, uh,” As if the world instantly got the right prescription, everything cleared right up, “Think we can call it? I need to go lie down,” you admitted. Wanda wanted to decline your request, she was actually really enjoying herself, “Yea, of course.”

You had been laying in your bed for 20 minutes now, unable to rest because your mind kept replaying the events of your training session with Wanda. You weren’t sure if it felt so good for her to take over your mind like that because it was something you craved or because it was her. It could’ve been both, but surely she doesn’t feel the same about you. In fact, with the way you constantly get underneath each other’s skin, surely she despised you.

It wasn’t fair to her, for once she tried being helpful and you’re practically drooling over the thought of more. You had to remove yourself from the situation before it became too much and you made a complete fool of yourself. Getting up from your bed, you decided the only thing that could get you out of your mentorship with Wanda would be found in Tony’s lab.

“Tony!” with his back to the door, you noticed the slight startle in his figure, he wasn’t expecting anyone, “How’s the device thing coming along for my powers?” you asked, taking the seat across from him.

Once you were seated across from him, he raised his gaze from the object in his hands to meet your eyes, “The inhibitor?” you nodded, “yea, that.”

“I thought Wanda was teaching you how to use your powers? I stopped working on it because I figured you didn't need it,” this was the last thing you wanted to hear, this was your way out. You needed this thing as quickly as possible.

“Oh, Wanda agreed that it would be good for me to have it. That it would actually help me to learn how to tame them.” you lied through your straight-ass teeth but Tony believed you. While someone like Natasha would’ve seen right through that charade, Tony sure as hell wasn’t an Avenger because he was a super spy, intelligence can only get you so far in the detective game.

“Ok, i’ll have it to you in the next couple of days. I’ll just need to run some tests on your blood to callibrate it correctly, can you go down to the med lab today?”

Oh here we go, you’ll either have to face your fear of medical or keep hiding your budding feelings for Wanda. Surprisingly this is exactly what it took for you to get your follow up exam and run even more tests.

Bruce was surprised to see you, and even though your attempt at convincing him you werent avoiding him fell short, he decided not to pry. He was just happy you were here now.

The follow up exam wasn’t nearly as bad as you had built it up in your head. They just asked a few questions, took some tests and sent you on your way. That’s how it always is though, and next time it’ll be the same way. You conjure these irrational thoughts and then it builds and builds.

As Natasha returned to the compound , you could hardly contain your excitement. You missed her presence, and you were looking forwards to hearing all about her mission.

"Nat!" you exclaimed as you spotted Natasha entering the common area, a grin spreading across your face. "You're back!"

Natasha's lips curved into a warm smile as she greeted you with a hug. "Hey, Y/N. It's good to see you too," she said, returning the embrace.

The two of you settled onto the couch together, the familiar comfort of your friendship easing the tension of Natasha's recent mission. As you caught up on each other's lives, swapping stories and sharing laughs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude that your friend was back.

"So, how was the mission?" you asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

Natasha's expression softened, a hint of weariness shadowing her features. "It was… intense," she admitted, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "But we got the job done."

“Intense, how?”

Natasha settled back into the couch, her gaze distant as she recounted the events of her mission. "We were sent to extract a high-value target from a hostile territory," she began, her voice tinged with a mixture of seriousness and intensity.

"It started off smoothly enough," she continued, her words measured. "But things quickly escalated. We encountered heavy resistance from enemy forces, and what was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a full-blown firefight."

You listened intently, as your expression reflected the gravity of Natasha's words. Flashbacks of your recent mission sitting at the forefront of your mind as she recounted the events. You knew firsthand the dangers of fieldwork, but hearing Natasha's account reminded you of the risks she faced on a daily basis.

"We managed to secure the target, but not without casualties," Natasha said quietly, her gaze turning inward as she remembered the sacrifices made during the mission.

You reached out, offering Natasha a reassuring squeeze of your hand. "I'm sorry, Nat. That’s never easy," you said softly, voice filled with empathy.

She offered a grateful smile, appreciating your insight. "Yea," she admitted, her tone somber. "But we did what we had to do. That's the job."

As you sat together in the quiet of the room, the weight of Natasha's mission hung in the air. But amidst the shadows of uncertainty, there was also a glimmer of resilience, “So, what’d I miss around here?”

“Oh, nothing really,” you shrugged, “Same old things.”

“Oh yea? How’s your mentorship with Wanda going?” she pried.

Your cheeks flushed at the mention of her name, and of course the super spy sitting next to you noticed, “oh that? It’s coming to an end.” you responded vaguely.

“-an end? Why? What happened?” Natasha pushed for more information.

Avoiding eye contact, you explained, “Nothing happened. I don’t need her help anymore,”

Acting impressed, Natasha had a feeling there was more to the story, “Well, you got a handle on your powers pretty quickly then, huh?”

With a satisfied grin, acting as if you outsmarted some all knowing system, “Oh I don’t need to. Tony is fixing them.” you bragged as you removed yourself from the couch beside Nat to enter the kitchen which was still in clear view from where Natasha was seated on the couch, “you want a drink or anything? You must be exhausted.”

Nat stayed put on the couch, letting her brain catch up with what you just said, she was tired but that could wait, “Sorry, can we circle back for a sec? Tony is fixing your powers? How exactly?” she pressed, not letting you move on from the topic as she followed you off the couch and into the kitchen.

Using the refrigerator as an excuse to not meet her eyes, you pretending to weigh your options even though you knew exactly what you were after as soon as you left couch, “well, i dont know the technicalities of it, Nat, but he’s got gadgets for everything. Oh! And I had my follow-up with Bruce. He said that he’ll need to wait for the tests to come back but everything seems in order.”

Natasha hummed in response as she took a sip of the water bottle you slid over to her, “We’ll talk about this more later, movie night tonight? I’ve got to go take a shower.”

You nodded in response, “Oh, so that’s what that smell was!” you called out as she left you behind in the kitchen. She couldnt help but checkle slightly in response, “Oh shut it, Y/L/N!”

You were looking forward to a proper movie night with Natasha, it had been too long for your liking since the two of you got to have time to yourselves and relax together like this. You even made sure to run to the store and grab lots of snacks in preparation.

You werent good at cooking by any stretch, but popcorn, you could handle. You got a bowl ready, and made sure to season it with the butter powder that Natasha loves as you put all the other junk and drinks onto a tray so you could carry it easily into the theatre room. To your surprise, Natasha wasn’t the only one there waiting for you.

“Surprise!” Nat haphazardly yelled once you noticed that Wanda was sitting beside her. Against your own will, your eyes widened as your cheeks flooded a light pink. You didnt want her here, “Why is she here?” you asked, speaking to Nat as if Wanda wasnt sitting right there to hear.

“Natasha invited me,” Wanda stepped in and explained for herself. It was difficult to hide your disgust at the situation, you were looking forward to having a cozy evening alone with Nat.

“Why?” You kept your eyes on Natasha, not paying Wanda any attention, she was intruding on your plans, and you hated the fact that you’d have to sit through an entire movie with her, an entire movie being distracted, trying to push away the thoughts that keep plaguing your mind.

Natasha knew that there was tension between you and Wanda that likely should be addressed, and who better to be a mediator than your best friend herself? After thinking over your approach to dampen your powers instead of learning to wield them properly, she believed that spending time together in a relaxed setting like a movie night could help you work through your differences and potentially mend whatever set you off from training.

Additionally, Natasha valued both you and Wanda as friends and continually tried anything to see you get along better. She hoped that by bringing you together in a more casual and friendly environment, you could find some common ground, “Oh stop complaining Y/N, come sit!” Nat patted the seat next to her. Wanda wasnt phased by your display, in fact, she somewhat expected it.

You reluctantly sat without complaining further, “What movie have you two decided on then?” you shot off, acting as if having Wanda there excluded you in some way.

Nat ignored the attitude in your tone, “We havent decided yet, I was thinking a comedy though,” she answered.

You and Wanda both decided against anything either of you chose, so eventually you landed on a movie that Nat suggested. As the movie played on the screen, you held back your laughter, a subtle attempt to maintain a sense of composure in front of Wanda. Feeling somewhat guarded in Wanda's presence, hesitant to show vulnerability or let your guard down completely.

But as the movie reached a particularly funny scene, you couldn't help but crack a smile, the laughter bubbling up from deep within. Natasha, sitting beside you, let out a hearty laugh, her amusement contagious as it spread to both you and Wanda.

Despite your initial reservations, the three of you were soon found laughing uproariously, the tension of the evening melting away in the shared joy of the moment. You felt a sense of relief wash over you, making a conscious decision to let go of your hesitations and embrace the joy of the movie. Letting your guard down, to laugh freely and openly.

Once the movie came to and end, the next suggested option was “Modern Family” and without a second thought you clicked play. Nat slowly got up from her spot in the middle of you and Wanda, claiming she was exhausted and going to head to bed. You and Wanda stayed seated as the show began to play. You’re not sure exactly when it happened but at some point, Wanda took over Nat’s seat beside you, “So, how did your follow up go with Bruce?”

You sighed, “It went well I guess, they uh- they found in my bloodwork that I have this disease called chronic fatigue syndrome, which explains why I’m always tired and stuff,” you explained.

Wanda tilted her head slightly as she took in the information, “Well, surely you already knew that from the tests SHIELD did on you to pass academy.” She questioned, thinking back to her internal reasoning as to why you knew that you’d be able to survive the chemical at the Hydra plant.

You’re not sure where her thought process was, or what made her come to that conclusion, “What? No, I never got to see the results of any of those tests, it was all confidential.” you explained, “It was just a pass or fail result at the end of the graduate year.”

As if all the walls that Wanda built between you came crashing down, realization flooded in. She had constructed this idea of you in her head, an idea that you always had some sort of ulterior motive and nothing you ever did was out of any sort of kindness or altruism, “Wait, so how did you know that you’d survive the chemical agent that we were sent to retrieve at the Hydra base?”

“I didn’t.” you stated as if it were obvious. Perhaps it was to everyone else. “Oh! Speaking of that, I have some good news!” you transitioned to the new topic, tone laced with mischief, “You won’t need to mentor me anymore,”

Wanda arched an eyebrow, her expression guarded knowing that you surely didnt have a complete grasp on your powers yet, she hummed, “Why’s that?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips, “Tony’s making me an inhibitor,” you nearly bragged, “I don’t need to bother with them now, and we can go back to hating each other, no need to keep up with this charade anymore. Just like old times.”

There was a sharpness to your words, a cutting edge that sliced through the tension. You knew that your relationship with Wanda had always been fraught with animosity, a constant battle of wills and egos.

But as you watched Wanda's reaction, a flicker of something crossed her features—was it disappointment? Relief? Sadness? You couldn't quite decipher it, but deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing Wanda a favor by removing yourself from her life.

Wanda's response was measured, her gaze steady as she met your eyes. "Oh, this thing?” she said as she held out her hand, the inhibitor that Tony built for you appearing out of thin air, surrounded by red tendrils of magic. Your eyes widened, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me. Imagine my surprise when he told me it was my idea.” she glared, expecting an explanation.

You swallowed hard before explaining yourself, “Yea, well- I. I figured that this will make things easier for both of us. Things can go back to the way they used to be.” you stressed, avoiding eye contact with the girl beside you in favor of quite literally anything else in the room.

Your words carried a weight, so much had changed in the last month. Was anything really better off before any of this? “You want to go back to the way things used to be between us?” she clarified.

Of course you didn’t want that, but it’s what you convinced yourself that she wanted, “I- I don’t know,” you muttered as the wheels spun in your head, “No?”

Wanda couldn’t help but smile slightly at the state you were in, she found it cute. So indecisive and unsure, no trace of the snarky confidence you used to hold. Instead, you were shrunken in on yourself, merely a shell in her presence, “Then what made you lie to Tony for this?” she pushed for an explanation, as she gestured to the inhibitor she was still holding.

You were feeling overwhelmed now, not knowing the right thing to say. The last thing you wanted was Wanda upset with you. Your breathing began to pick up ever so slightly, something Wanda took notice of, “I- I’m sorry, I thought you’d like it better this way. Without me.” you admitted.

Spinning in her seat so that her entire body faced you instead of the tv, the device in Wanda’s hand vanished as she moved it to rest on your leg for comfort, “Y/N, Why would you think that?”

Your body tensed at the contact of her hand on your thigh, keeping your eyeline low like you were a child being scolded, “Well, it’s just- I feel like i’ve become this responsibility for you, and you shouldn’t have to. I know you hate me, and that’s ok. I deserve it, but it’s not fair for you.” you tried to find the right words to explain your thought process, you werent even sure if it made sense at this point.

Suddenly you felt Wanda’s fingers pulling your chin to force you to meet her gaze, “Hey. I don’t hate you.” she clarified, “Sure we bicker, and get under each other’s skin, but I thought things were getting better.” she affirmed, and you nodded gently in response, “Good girl,” she whispered almost inaudibly, sending a shiver down your spine noticing the hold she had on you without even using her magic, “Regardless, it’s the least I could do, the only reason you even have these powers in the first place is because you saved me.” she admitted.

You didn’t have a response, staring back at her with doe wide eyes waiting for her to make the next move. She removed her grip from your chin and lifted the barrier from between your seats, “Come here,” she patted as she lifted her arm for you to scootch closer. You did as she said, nuzzling into the space she provided. Your shared focus shifted back to the sitcom on the tv as you relaxed into her embrace, “Wanda.” you muttered softly as exhaustion began weighing heavily on your features, and she hummed in response, “I never hated you either.” you admitted.

“I know.”

Taglist: @marvelogic @esposadejoyhuerta @ju-maxi89 @gingiesworld @simpforlizzie @bigbattygyal585 @cakechan123 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @newyork1432 @automaticdinosaurtaco @yellowthingsstuff @marvelwomen-simp @supercorpstan97 @justabrokensunshine @tigerlillyruiz @mythixmagic @paaandiculations @bananasplits-world

[mead-iocre]

a teaser for my next fic because ily (also because yall brought my last fic 'Call me Love' to over 900+ notes):

Fans wearing football shirts with players’ names on their backs is a popular practice in the sport. It is common to walk around the stadium during match day and see fans proudly showing off the last name of their favourite player on their backs. Wearing a shirt with a player's name is a way for fans to demonstrate their admiration and loyalty to their favourite player in their teams. 

“Whose name have you got on your back?” Leah wouldn’t admit it right now, but she was hoping it was hers. 

“No ones.” You reply curtly. You had thought about it, considered it for a moment. You remember sitting on your bed a few nights ago, the Arsenal online shop pulled up on your laptop browser, and your cursor was hovering over the ‘Williamson 6’ option.

Maybe if you were braver you would’ve personalised your kit with her name, added it to your cart, and bought it. However, you didn’t know how she would feel about you showing up with her last name sprawled across your back. Besides, you figured you could always borrow one of hers in the near future

and it would be £126 cheaper 

The blonde raises an eyebrow at your answer and glances down at your shirt once more. “You fancy having mine?” 

“You proposing already, darling?” 

Coming soon (like tomorrow!)

!!! It’s been posted: Football Scarves and Football Kits | Leah Williamson x Reader !!!!

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

DJANGO teaser

Choi San x fem reader x Jung Wooyoung

a/n: i'm absolutely going feral and loosing my mind this comeback and it is all coming to life in this fic im writing

warnings/content(for teaser only): blood,pda,not edited

FULL STORY OUT NOW HERE

"- DJANGO!!" The name catches your attention over the blaring speaker. How was he up so early? You peek around San and see the fast man catching his breath in the opposite corner. Blood being wiped up and a limp body being carried out.

"We can always find a new way to get money," you scream to San as he rolls out his stiff shoulders, whining as Wooyoung pulls you away gently. "Seriously, Sannie!"

"He'll be okay, Darling," Wooyoungs chaste kiss to your head does nothing to calm your raging nerves as San bends down and slides into the ring. You pull away in a hurry and hop up on the ledge, grabbing his top over the ropes.

"Forgot something?" You lean your torso over and immediately take San into a heated kiss, his calloused hands cupping your face firmly and pulling you close. People all around whistle and call loudly, a blush creeping up Wooyoung neck as he watches your lips meld together.

    It been almost a year on the run. Almost five months since any of the three of you have touched one another in an intimate, primal way.

     He doesn't know how much longer he can take it. When you crawled into his lap earlier he nearly took you right there.

    You always do something after a needy kiss that makes them feral.

    You lick up Sans lips to his cheekbone and moan.

People start nearly howling, and his opponent looks antsy.

    "Fuck him up, Baby," you cup his chin in your hand as you block out the world around you for a moment and take one last good look at him before you know you'll go away during his fights. You can't bring yourself to watch no matter how long he's been fighting. But that doesn't mean you won't hype him up while you can.

You slap his shoulder softly, making sure to make it look harder than it was in reality before giving his fist a gentle kiss.

"Fuck him up," you repeated before hopping down.

--

[kth1fics]

Inconspicuous (M) | KTH (TEASER)

Inconspicuous

⟶ Pairing: Incubus!Taehyung x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ⟶ Tropes: Jennifer’s Body Au, Friends to Lovers?, College Au ⟶ Teaser WC: 600+ ⟶ Warnings: talk of d**th, etc (not much since it's a teaser) ⟶ Beta: n/a (but my beauty jo @daechwitatamic looked through here for me) ⟶ Summary: A demonic force possesses college boy Taehyung, causing him to feverishly lust over unfortunate females who are completely out of his league. As his appetite for human flesh keeps Taehyung alive, you – his best friend since childhood – try everything to stop the savage butchery he leaves in his trail. ⟶ Author’s Note: Completely based off from the 2009 movie Jennifer’s Body, I have twisted a little tale of my own. I truly hope my readers enjoy this dip in horrific evil, and please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! Be mindful: The fic is still currently being written and is subject to change at any given time!

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

You hear the professor mention the debate with his students. He, Professor Greenburg, rests himself atop the corner of his desk as he peels his glasses from his face. The class is divided into a semicircle of chairs, each attached with a small wooden plank which acts as a desk for each student. Taehyung always fancies scooting his chair inches closer to you so he can mumble his remarks and to steal some of your notes or snacks you stuff your bag with.

“Yes, you can!” Your classmate raises their voice to interject another. “Some people are inspired by the movies or shows. Haven’t you seen any news or documentaries?”

“No, it’s not. Movies are not responsible for our actions or pursuit.” Another classmate bounces back.

Taehyung sighs softly, leaning his head against his hand as he shifts his weight. He’s counting down the minutes until your class time is up and for the two of you to leave. At this point it’s routine for the class to continue their arguments and discuss their cases. He just blends into the background and pretends he is invisible.

Dawn, a strong personality sorority sister, sits tall in her seat. Her purple pom-pom pen taps angrily when another student references film and real life being art references and imitation.

“Absolutely not,” she musters her voice up. Her sharp eyebrows stand high on her forehead with shock, “This isn’t a hypothetical situation. It’s not about ‘art’.” Dawn clarifies, “these are real people you’re mentioning. Actual life. This is reality, not a movie.”

“It inspires people and gives people ideas,” you hear someone chirp back. “Think about it, the writers of said movie or show already thought and came up with the scenario. It’s present in at least one person’s mind if you’re being technical about it.”

“And sure, making it into a movie is what? Promoting the idea?” Dawn mocks back.

The class continues to bicker and prod another’s ideas. You attempt to ration a few yourself, listening in and observing the thoughts that come out of your fellow peers. However, Taehyung remains silent. Hushed slightly adjacent to your seat. 

A resounded alert chimes from everyone’s phones, loud and startling. A few of you jump, quickly grabbing at your phones to see what all the noise is about. From your device, you see a campus-wide notification. Seems that everyone else received the same one.

You scan the words as someone else verbalizes it for the class.

“Campus curfew?”

The buzzing begins small but grows loud fast.

“All classes after 4:30 PM are canceled and will be merged online for the time being.”

You can hear the groans and moans coming from the other classes down the hall. Maybe some students are happy about the sudden transition.

“What’s this about?” You question out loud, turning your head around to see if you can find the answer from someone. Even when you turn to Taehyung, you see the disappointment of him being clueless.

“Beats me,” he shrugs.

“Is this about what happened from the town over?” You hear a curious classmate ask Professor Greenburg. “From last weekend?”

“It’s tough to say something like that is related to this,” he honestly replies. Professor Greenburg is still rereading the notification from his cellular device. “It wasn’t directly affiliated with the campus or student body, but if it were the case, it’s a precaution to keep things safe.”

“Maybe the police recommended it,” Dawn comments. “I just heard from a friend at a nearby university that they also were given a curfew at their school earlier in the week.”

You tune back to Taehyung, whispering, “What happened?”

“Didn’t someone die?”

“Die?”

“Killed,” Taehyung boldly refines. “Murdered.”

⟶ Estimated Posting Date : Halloween 2023

© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[wildwestdean]

"I can't remember the last time I've seen so many stars," you breathed out, staring up at the sky in wonder.

"Hard to believe I get to see them all the time," Dean replied softly, his gaze set upon you beside him instead of on the sky above.

"It must be nice," you declared wistfully. "Living in a town like this. Just so... peaceful all the time."

"Right... small town living," Dean agreed absently, sighing quietly.

He wanted to tell you that what he really meant was I see stars in your eyes every time you look at me, and feel the sun every time you smile. But no, he couldn't. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Not when he knew this wouldn't last.

a little snippet from a new dean fic i've been working on! can't wait to share it with y'all which should be hopefully soon

[crappymixtape]

because of you • ( pt. vi teaser )

TEASER for part VI of because of you where you and steve finally come face-to-face with the upside down and all it's nasties – question is, will you make it out alive? ( enemies -> lovers, steve x reader )

“Steve! Wait!”

And never had he turned around so quickly, the sound of your voice stopping him dead in his tracks and making him wait. For you.

Your boots crunched in the dead sticks and leaves on the ground as you ran, cracking and snapping with each step you took until you reached him, breathless and unsure of what you wanted to say but insistent on saying something.

“Everything okay?” he asked, trying to be casual. Unattached. Felt Robin and Nancy’s eyes on you both, but shot them a look and they gave you some space.

“Yeah–I mean, no? I mean–we’re about to get swarmed by bats from hell and well...well, I guess what I wanted to say is–” you tripped over your words, felt clumsy and stupid, but desperate. Wanted him to know you wanted to work on things. Wanted to give him another chance, but it just wouldn’t come out and his expression softened as he realized what you were getting at.

“Slow down,” he murmured and you drew in a breath.

In. Out. Try again.

“I just want you to know that...I wanna try,” you said, still a bit clumsy, one word falling out after the other. “I wanna work on–on forgiveness or…shit. I don’t know,” you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would help you gather up your thoughts and Steve waited. Patient. “Just…come back, okay?” you finally asked, opening your eyes to see his mouth tugged up at the corners in a lopsided smile.

“You want me to come back, Princess?” he asked wryly and you scowled.

“I’m gonna let that one go cos ‘end of the world’ and whatever,” you snarked and it made him laugh. A low rumble in his chest that filled you up to the brim and spilled over at the edges.

“Gee thanks.”

“Yeah, you owe me now.”

“Alright, deal. Promise I’ll get you back when this is all over.”

When this is all over.

“I’m gonna hold you to it,” you said, your voice wobbling a little despite your efforts to keep it even and the sound put an ache in Steve’s chest. Pulled his hand to your cheek. His fingers gently tucking your unruly curls behind your ear.

“Wouldn’t expect any less,” he said quietly, only to you, and then he took a couple steps back. Put space between you quickly to try and make it easier, but it stung. The sudden realization that your want for reconciliation was mutual and having to watch it walk away with the possibility of not returning.

The possibility of not seeing each other again.

Of this being goodbye.

“Good luck,” you whispered, your throat closing around the sob lodged in your chest, watching as Steve walked away and slowly disappeared into the dark.

[violetsiren90]

The Light of Your Eyes | Mini Teaser

Pairing: best friend's younger brother!Changbin x f!Reader

Genre: one-shot; friends to lovers, smut and fluff; hurt/comfort

Summary: Can the gentle touch of an unexpected pair of hands on your body heal the wounds of your soul?

Content warnings (teaser only): fic will be 18+ (minors dni); kissing; embracing; age gap (consenting adults)

Drop date: Soon. Work is kicking my ass again, but this one is close to finished.

*Mood board images from Pinterest, poem is an original 💕

The sudden feeling of two strong arms snaking about your waist causes you to start, sloshing your water and smacking the back of your head into the man holding you. Hastily, you set your glass down and turn in his arms as he lets out a groan, one of his hands releasing you as it flies up to cup the front of his face in pain.

"Bin, oh my god! Are you okay? You scared me!" You chide with a chuckle as you reach up to push his hand away and brush the tips of your fingers across his nose. 

He pouts down at you and you smile.

"Does it hurt?" 

He nods.

"Kiss it better," he mumbles cutely.

You roll your eyes, but lift your lips to comply when suddenly he interrupts the motion with the soft press of his mouth to yours. It's slow and sweet, and you're struck all over again with how quickly you melt at his touch.

"Bin..." you whisper against his lips, "Bin, we shouldn't–"

"Let me show you, noona. How beautiful you are."

You still, eyes flicking up to his. They're dark and tender and pleading. You huff out a little shuddering breath.

"I...you don't have t–"

His arms hold you closer, gentle but insistent.

"Let me," he whispers, the tip of his handsome nose brushing over the dip of your cupid's bow. "Please. I want to."

You want it too, you find. You want his hands and lips and eyes all over you, bringing their warmth everywhere they meet your aching body.

Swallowing, your eyes drop to his lips.

Slowly, you nod, and move to take his mouth again with yours. 

"Yeah?" he murmurs, and you can feel his lovely little smile.

"Yeah, Bin," you breathe, as your eyes slip shut and your hands find the firmness of his chest. "...Yeah."

[kingofbodyrolls]

Learn to Love Again (m) | myg | teaser

💜 It has been posted! Read it here. 💜 Summary: People always leave. They become beautiful stars shining bright in the night sky. When life hands you lemons, you’ve been told to make lemonade, but that is hard when your soul and heart is breaking apart. When you rescue a tiny cat and meet a handsome stranger in the cafe, you finally feel yourself healing – but when they too leave, how are you going to learn to love again?

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, mainly called pet names so no ‘Y/N’).

AU + genres: Hybrid!au (shapeshifter!yoongi), strangers to lovers, slice of life, heavy angst, a lot of sadness (I’m sorry!), dark vibes, smut and fluff and some humor. 

Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.

Word count (for the teaser): 480 words. I’m still writing the fic and it’s currently at 12k and I’m almost done!

Warnings (general) + triggers: Heavy angst, extreme heavy sadness and grief, death of minor characters, mention of previous character death (parents), mentions of su*cide, mention of m*rder, su*cidal thoughts.

Warnings (explicit): Explicit sex (I haven’t written the smut yet, so I don’t know what it entails yet 🤣). 

Authors note: I know it sounds hella sad (and it is), but it is also very sweet and heartwarming too 💜 I wanted to venture into the darker stuff again, and embrace all the feelings and sadness that I felt a few weeks ago (I’m fine, well I’m getting through it at least). 

If you are triggered by any of the warnings, I suggest that you skip this. It’s not that explicit though (except the smut lol) but the heavy subjects are still there and they feature in it a lot.

Also, the quote “people always leave” features a lot in this and I only now realize why I find it so familiar – it’s a famous quote from Peyton Sawyer from One Tree Hill.

*fun fact: I actually took the photo of the night sky myself (back in 2013 lol) and used in the breakline for this!

Taglist: If you wish to be notified and added to the taglist, just drop a comment here on this teaser, an ask or a message and I’ll add you. I kindly ask that you have your age visible on your blog, as this contains mature and dark themes, you must be over 18+ 🙂

“Yuna…,” you cry, the anguish in your voice echoing the profound pain that seems to squeeze the very life out of your heart. “Why does everyone leave?” The question hangs in the air, more rhetorical than expectant, as if you're not seeking an answer from Yuna but grappling with the cruel patterns of departure that life has woven into the fabric of your existence. Each departure, like a thread pulled from the tapestry of your world, leaves an unraveled piece that never quite knits itself back together.

“I–, I don’t know,” she stammers through her tears, the weight of the unknown echoing in her voice, mirroring the uncertainty that now shrouds both of your lives.

“Promise we’ll be there for each other,” you declare, the weight of the words hanging in the air. It's a poignant plea, an acknowledgment of life's unpredictable twists. You understand that you can't ask for an eternity, but in this moment, you're determined to hold onto each other as tightly as time allows.

“Count on it,” she vows, her response flowing effortlessly, a testament to the unspoken bond between you two.

Despite the tightening in your throat, a glimmer of happiness sparks within you at the assurance she just gave.

Why must life be so fucking cruel, robbing you of everyone you hold dear?

An overwhelming urge to reconnect with your sister washes over you, a deep yearning fueled by the ache of prolonged silence between you.

“I want to call my sister,” you manage to say through your sobs, a desperate plea lacing your words. “Will you be alright, Yuna?” you ask, your concern breaking through the waves of grief that surround you both.

“Yeah. I mean, I'm fucking sad, but go ahead and call her. Can I come to your place tomorrow?” Yuna's voice carries a subtle plea, a shared understanding that neither of you wants to be alone in the midst of sorrow.

“Yeah, I'd love that,” you respond, your voice carrying the weight of grief and the faint glimmer of gratitude for the companionship that awaits tomorrow. As you attempt to dry your tears with a throw blanket on the couch, the room feels emptier than ever, and the ache in your heart persists.

“See you tomorrow,” she says before the call ends. The hollowness in the room deepens, and you draw in a shaky breath, your gaze fixed on your phone. The background image captures a moment frozen in time, featuring you, Nari, and Yuna. God, the ache of missing her intensifies, and you can't shake the heaviness in your chest.

You tighten your grip on the phone, each tear that escapes your eyes a silent testament to the pain in your heart. Determination wells up as you locate your sister's number, fingers tracing the familiar digits, ready to bridge the gap that time and distance have carved between you.

[seungkw1]

the truth is out there — csc [TEASER]

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader ♡ theme: x-files au ♡ teaser wc: 1.5k ♡ warnings: none ♡ a/n: i started rewatching the x-files recently and the idea of this popped into my head so i simply had to write it!! also, y/ln refers to ‘your last name’ bc ya know. agent stuff.

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

When you joined the FBI you didn’t expect to end up working in the basement with a peculiar agent obsessed with all things extraterrestrial, but your new assignment is certainly taking you places you’ve never been before.

👽 full fic out now 👽

10 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

taptaptap

The light knocking on your desk pulls your focus away from the almost-completed report on the screen of your monitor. Most would call report writing the boring part of the job, and while you don’t necessarily disagree your high levels of attentiveness allow you to efficiently plug away at the otherwise mind-numbing task - so, you don’t mind it so much. That is, unless you are interrupted. 

“Hey Frenchie, the Bergmeister wants to see you.” 

Stifling a sigh, you look up at your bothersome coworker, Soonyoung, who is currently leaning over your desk while eating a sandwich. You grimace as you see the multitude of crumbs he’s managed to drop all over your paperwork in the five seconds he’s been standing there.

“What does he want?” you ask, not bothering to hide your exasperation.

“Didn’t say,” he mumbles through the large bite he just stuffed into his mouth.

The Bergmeister is the inane moniker Soonyoung and his pals call your supervisor, Assistant Director Bergman, behind his back. Frenchie is the irritating nickname nearly half the office now calls you, to your face, due to an unfortunate incident involving French dressing and the light gray pantsuit you chose to wear on your very first day on the job. You figured they’d get tired of it after a few days, but that was several weeks ago at this point - and much to your chagrin it seems to have stuck.

You give Soonyoung a very obviously fake grin to accompany your obviously sarcastic response. “Thank you, Agent Soonyoung - helpful as always.”

Soonyoung winks at you. “For you? Anytime.” You imagine grabbing his sandwich and bopping it on his head. 

The muted sounds of landlines ringing, keyboards clacking, and fax machines whirring drift past your ears as you walk steadily to Bergman’s office, maintaining a false air of confidence as to mask your anxiety. You’ve never been called into his office alone in the month and a half you’ve worked for the FBI - you quickly leaf through your mind for anything you’ve done that could be a potential mistake, but you come up empty handed. 

Bergman’s door is ajar - you rap your knuckle against it twice as you step inside. He peers up at you through thick, round lenses. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes, come in, have a seat - and shut the door behind you.”

The heavy door closes with a deep thunk. As you lower yourself into the chair facing the desk you notice you’re joined by a man you’ve never seen before. He says nothing, but looms in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette. 

“I’ll spare you the bullshit, y/ln,” Bergman starts. He looks more tired than usual. “Have you heard of the bureau’s division known as the ‘x-files’?”

You feel your normally stoic face contort into a confused expression. Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“Well, yes, sir… but isn’t that an unofficial department?”

He takes a sip from his styrofoam cup of coffee. “Correct - it’s not official, but I assure you it is very much a ‘functional’ operation.” He all but rolls his eyes at functional. 

You shoot a glance at the unintroduced man in the corner, but he remains expressionless. Bergman continues. 

“I’m sure by now you’re well aware of the reputation surrounding this subsect and its…proprietor, shall we say.”

You give a single nod. By your second day in the office you’d heard all about the x-files: cases allegedly involving aliens, the supernatural, and all sorts of nonsense you chalked up to pure baloney. You’d also learned of the lone employee who spearheads the whole operation from the bureau basement: Agent Choi. Nobody seems to take him, or it, seriously - so much so that you had begun to doubt if it was even a real department, and if Choi even existed. But apparently, the rumors were true. 

“I am not at liberty to discuss the reasons behind this decision,” Bergman tells you, “but all you need to know is that this assignment is significant in nature.”

Assignment?? Surely he doesn’t mean…

“I’m not sure I understand,” you ask hesitantly, “am I-”

“Being assigned to the x-files? Yes.”

Your stomach lurches. You open your mouth to inquire what exactly it is you’ve done wrong, but clearly he anticipated this exact response. 

“This is not a punishment - though I certainly know why it might seem that way. But, it’s imperative that we receive reliable insight into the operations of this endeavor.”

You sit there in silence for a few seconds, dumbfounded. “So, you’re asking me to spy on Agent Choi.”

Bergman waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I know how this sounds. And essentially - yes, you will be our eyes and ears into this otherwise elusive project. Choi will know we’re sending you there to report back to us, but we don’t care. We are confident you will succeed in providing us with useful information.”

You wait for him to go on, to elaborate in any capacity, but apparently he’s finished. 

“Alright then, so when do I-”

“Immediately,” Bergman interjects. You purse your lips, trying to hide your displeasure. 

“Yes sir,” you reply as respectfully as you can muster. 

“Great. We’re counting on you, y/ln.” You glance once more at the smoking man in the corner, but he remains silent. 

“Dismissed.”

You walk out of Bergman’s office, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. You have the misfortune of passing Soonyoung’s desk on the way back to yours - he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something annoying again, but you briskly zoom past him before he can get a word out. You make a beeline for your desk, grabbing only your purse and coffee cup before heading toward the elevator. 

X-files, here I come, I fucking guess. 

—

Your eyes take a few seconds to adjust as you step into the dim basement. The elevator doesn’t come down to this level - you spent a good 10 minutes trying to locate the correct stairwell that would even bring you here. You make your way through a seemingly endless hallway of dusty filing cabinets, forgotten boxes, and broken computers before you find yourself in front of a nondescript door, not quite shut - the only thing signifying that you’ve arrived at your destination being the makeshift paper name plate with S. Choi written in ink. You raise your fist to knock but before you can do so you hear a voice call out from inside. 

“Come in.”

You push the door in, its hinges giving you a high-pitched squeeeeak as it opens. You make a mental note to find some WD-40. 

The sad excuse for an office is equally dim-lit as the hallway, but it’s a sight to behold: a desk at the center of the room - neat, but stacked with newspapers and case files, a small lamp lighting up the open file in the desk’s center; a bookshelf nearly reaching the ceiling, overflowing with books on seemingly every topic under the sun; archival boxes stacked as tall as the numerous filing cabinets, which are also topped with more archival boxes; a massive bulletin board filled with articles and photos; but most notably, pinned the wall, is a poster featuring a flying saucer, accompanied with the text I WANT TO BELIEVE.

In the bizarre room sits a dark-haired man typing at his computer, his back to you. 

“I presume you heard me coming,” you state. 

“From a mile away,” he replies, still typing. 

You wait for him to turn around, say hello, anything - but the clickclack of his keyboard continues.

Several seconds pass, but the man says nothing. Apparently, it’s on you to break the silence.

You sigh under your breath. “I’m Agent y/ln, I’ve been-”

“Assigned to the x-files to spy on me?” he interrupts, eyes still glued to the monitor. 

“They told me you’d know that,” you admit. 

The typing stops. Choi turns around, the heavy desk chair giving an unpleasant creak as he leans his elbow over its back, finally facing you. His appearance takes you by surprise: strong eyebrows, plump red lips, soft dark-brown eyes - you weren’t expecting to find such a handsome face attached to the man with a reputation for being a “crazy UFO freak”, in the words of your coworkers. He’s much younger than you anticipated too, around your age - and seemingly so… normal. His eyes do a quick scan of your figure - his expression barely changes, but a quick flash of interest tells you you’re not exactly what he expected either. It is extinguished almost immediately. 

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” His tone is passive, but you detect a hint of somberness in his words. His warm eyes lock onto yours. 

“Name’s Choi, but I’m sure you already knew that. You can call me Seungcheol, though.” If it was anyone else, you’d think it was flirtatious in nature - but you can tell that was not his intention.

“Okay. Well, Choi, what exactly am I to do here?”

An eager grin lights up his face. He rises from his chair, grabs a case file off the pile on his desk, and opens it - throwing it back down onto the desk, facing you.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

—

a/n: thank you for reading this teaser!! i'm v excited for this one :) reblogs, comments, or any kind of feedback are all greatly appreciated <3

[sokoviansimp]

Control ⚢ upcoming fic written by Sokovian Simp

"I don't want control, I just want to let go."

Enemies to lovers, dom!wanda x sub!femreader

Part One ✒ Summary: Tension builds when Wanda and Y/N, who hate each other, are sent on a mission with Y/N's best friend. Natasha, and her wife Maria. The mission doesn't exactly go to plan.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this fic specifically

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