#But today there's a bar evening by the organisation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starleska · 2 years ago

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The Nightmare Picnic - Wally Darling x Reader

You're a brand new resident in the wonderful Welcome Home Neighbourhood, and it's the perfect day for the picnic! But your dear friend Wally Darling doesn't seem to be enjoying the fun. What will happen when you decide to try and cheer him up?

content warnings for: eye imagery, scopophobia, hypnosis, impossible physics, Eldritch, and unreality. go in assuming that Wally is a weird little guy, and you’re both terrified of and kind of enjoy that fact! 😉 you can also find this fic on my AO3. i hope you enjoy!!

The day you learn how to love Wally Darling begins like any other.

It is a balmy day, the air soft and thick and dizzy with butterflies. The sun shines with relentless cheer, and nary a cloud can be seen in the sky. Such a day in the Neighbourhood cannot be spent languishing inside, and all your new neighbours think the same way. So, which lovely activity did they decide upon? Why, a picnic on the grass, of course!

The organisation of the event is efficient and cheerful. In no time, the lush meadow surrounding the outskirts of the Neighbourhood is replete with cosy blankets to lie on, fun games to play, and a plethora of delicious foods contributed by each neighbour. Luckily, you’d baked a whole tray of cupcakes the previous day, with the intent of handing them out when bumping into your neighbours going about their daily business. The cupcakes were a huge success; even the ever-curmudgeonly Frank, who always has something to complain about, graces you with a begrudging, “It’s good, I suppose,” when you hand him a vanilla cupcake topped with a green-icing butterfly.

'I needed this,’ you think as you look around at your new friends. You’ve only been a resident of the Neighbourhood for a few months, but in that time you’ve grown so close to its colourful cast of neighbours as if you’d known each other your whole lives. Right now, they’re dotted across the meadow, smiling and laughing without a care in the world: Howdy’s busy putting together an impossibly long string of daisy chains; Eddie and Sally peer into an origami fortune-teller and giggle at the results; Frank leans over a bush, studying a caterpillar, and Julie and Poppy clap and cheer whilst Barnaby entertains them with a juggling act.

It’s a gorgeous scene. Today, your heart is warm.

A small flash of yellow catches your eye. Of course, it’s an incomplete picture. You take in Wally, who sits cross-legged under the shade of a verdant apple tree. He’s holding an apple between both hands and staring at it intently, as if willing the fruit to communicate with him. It’s an odd expression - you aren’t used to seeing Wally in a state of concentration.

“Hey, Wally!” you call.

Wally looks up at you and smiles. He beckons you over.

“Hello,” says Wally, in his simple way. “I’m happy to see you.”

Oh, what a beautiful voice. Every time you hear Wally speak, it’s like the gentle lapping of his syllables sweep away your worries in a single wave.

As you get closer to Wally, you notice a few strands of his deep blue hair turning flyaway and giving in to the heat, curling away from the otherwise-immaculate pompadour and escaping the death-grip of his hairspray. He’s a little dishevelled elsewhere, too; Wally’s neckerchief is coming loose, and though he’s long since abandoned his cardigan, a stray button on his shirt remains stubbornly popped. You find yourself grinning. Wally takes such pride in his appearance that you never get to see him a little less than perfect.

“Same to you!” you say. “Aren’t you hungry? All the food’s down with the others.”

That unusually pensive look on Wally’s face deepens. He turns his eyes back to his apple. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” You rummage in your backpack and pull out a chocolate bar. “You’ve got to eat, bud. You not feeling so good?”

Wally takes the treat from you and examines it for a moment, as if the bar is a scientific curiosity. “That’s very nice of you…but this doesn’t work for me. You should keep it.”

When Wally hands the bar back, your fingers touch for the briefest moment, and a shiver works its way up your spine.

You don’t know when this… thing you have for Wally Darling began. Despite the countless nights you’ve spent desperately trying to focus on something, anything else, your thoughts inevitably return to the little yellow puppet-man and his catlike smile. There’s a strange magnetism to Wally which befits his profession as a television host; everything from the delicate way he handles his paintbrush, to his ridiculous affinity for apples, leaves you with a little more fondness than before. Wally has so much affection stored in one small body, and when you first met, you wondered how any person could love so much all at once.

But now, when you look at Wally, you understand.

“If you’re sure.” You pop the bar back into your bag and sit on the ground in front of Wally, mirroring his cross-legged pose. “The offer’s still there.”

“It’s tempting,” says Wally, now turning his apple over and over in his hands. “I’d like to know what would happen, if I tried. But Barnaby told me it isn’t worth the risk. I trust him to know.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, but the look on Wally’s face is so uncharacteristically brooding that you don’t feel it’s polite to pry. Wally’s always been the drifting sort: those large, dewy eyes of his are perpetually lidded, and always seem to be gazing at something no one else can see. But Wally’s inattentiveness is usually matched with an infectious, excited kind of energy, bursting with nonsense and love.

Today, he almost looks sad. The idea makes you feel sick.

It occurs to you that this may be a personal issue, and Wally doesn’t know you well enough to discuss it. So you ask, “Do you want me to look away?”

Wally’s fingers still. To your surprise, the apple actually drops from his hands and rolls into the grass. You’ve never seen Wally mistreat an apple before - there must be something seriously wrong.

“Actually,” says Wally, now looking at you properly, “I’d like to try something.”

He gestures for you to shuffle closer. When you do, Wally reaches forward and takes hold of your forearms. You make a surprised noise, but Wally squeezes you, and fixes you with a smile full of reassurance and warmth. A rush of heat leaps into your cheeks, and you’re suddenly reminded of an interaction you had with another neighbour not too long ago.

It was only a week after you arrived in the Neighbourhood, and you were finally moving the last of your belongings into your home. All of your new neighbours had graciously donated their time to help you in some fashion, and you were overcome with gratitude. On that final day you were more than capable of doing the rest of the moving yourself, but your closest neighbour - the excitable Julie Joyful - volunteered to help with the last handful of delicate items. At first, you were unsure - Julie is a lovely girl and incredibly fun to be around, but so spirited that you feared for the safety of your items. But a good twenty minutes of allowing her to help with the least fragile of your boxes allayed all your fears: Julie moves with the grace of a ballerina, and the two of you soon had all your boxes stacked in your living room.

Burnt orange sunlight poured through the window, streaming soon-to-be-dusk and casting the wooden floorboards with a vibrant glow. You take a moment from the heavy lifting to look out the window. Across the lawn, you can make out a couple of your neighbours engaging in some game. Upon closer inspection, you realise it’s Wally and Barnaby, the former laughing and tossing a series of colourful balls for Barnaby to catch.

You watched as Wally swung his arm and threw a few of the balls a surprising distance, letting the large, spotted dog race off to retrieve them. Wally put his hands on his hips, as if exhausted by the exertion. He turned - and locked eyes with you. Wally’s face broke out into a huge grin, and he gave you a hearty wave. Feeling horribly embarrassed, you waved back, trying to ignore the painful squeezing of your heart. You’ve only known Wally a week, and yet you’re utterly charmed by everything he does.

A tug on your arm brought you back to the present: it’s Julie. She bats her long eyelashes at you, a knowing smile on her face.

“You like hiiiiim, ” she teased, her voice all sing-song.

“What?!”

You grabbed Julie by the shoulders and yanked her away from the window, as if Wally could somehow hear you both through sight. “No! I don’t know where you got an idea like that-”

“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t need to pretend.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. You’d always been the careful type, ensuring your innermost thoughts and feelings stayed stuffed as far down as possible to keep you safe. But the Neighbourhood bred a kind of emotional honesty with which you were totally unfamiliar. Everyone is so exuberant, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves - some of them even literally, as plenty of your new neighbours wore outfits stitched with cute little hearts! Keeping a secret in the Neighbourhood felt wrong…even a secret crush on the silly little artist whose smile lit up your insides.

So, you give in. “How did you know?”

Julie giggles. She fishes in the pocket of her dress, and pulls out a daisy.

“I know a lot about flowers,” she explained, as she twirled the stem between her fingers. “What kinds grow in different meadows. How much sun and water and love they need to grow. They show it in their petals, and how they lean. People are a lot like that too.

“When you arrived, you looked…wilted. Like you’d been kept out of the sun for too long. I could see it, but didn’t want to ask why. I think everyone else could, too…and we all wanted to help a new friend who lost their colour.”

“You’ve all been so lovely to me,” you said, by way of thanks.

Julie nodded. “Sure we have! And it worked, for a little bit. But for a flower at the end of its days, even fresh soil, plenty of sun and lots of water can only do so much. Your petals seemed faded for good. And that’s okay. I just wanted you to be happy - whatever that looks like for you.”

You swallowed. “You see a lot, for a gardener.”

Julie smiled. “When you care for flowers, you learn to listen to their needs. Sometimes, you’ll have a flower who has everything in the world…but they’re still curling up, and shying away from the light.”

She pressed the daisy into your palm.

“Wally brings the colour back to your petals,” said Julie. “Do yourself a favour. Don’t hide from your sun.”

Another squeeze from Wally brings you out of your recollection. You suck in a deep breath, facing this new reality of Wally holding you, his fingers pleasantly warm and fuzzy.

“Close your eyes,” says Wally gently.

For anyone else, you would’ve paused - but for Wally, you comply immediately.

Slowly, you feel Wally’s hands slide down your arms to your hands. He threads his fingers through yours and holds them firm, so tight that you start to feel your blood thrumming from the pressure. Your hearing, sensitive now your sight is compromised, picks up the distant chatter of your neighbours, as well as the friendly sounds of nature at play. Your skin tingles, sweat-slicked from the heat and the nerves.

“I have a question,” says Wally, his voice wonderfully calm and soft.

“Yes?”

“Why do you eat?”

“Uh…” What kind of question was that? Wally is admittedly prone to posing questions that only a truly strange mind would think up, but this one is so baffling, you’re thrown entirely for a loop. “...So I don’t die, I guess?”

“Ha ha ha ha!” Wally’s unique, halting laugh almost startles you into opening your eyes. “You’re so funny. Okay. Do you know why I eat?”

This time, it takes you a little longer to answer. A simple enough question, surely with the exact same answer? But Wally’s voice has taken on a teasing, knowing edge - a sound you recognise from when he’s setting up a punchline. The question must be a trick. So you rack your brains, trying to think of all the times you’d seen Wally eat: where he was, what he was eating.

With your eyes still closed, you reach a strange realisation.

“I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat.”

A soft chuckle from Wally. “That’s right. You haven’t.”

Wally’s grip on your hand tightens. Strangely, a weak, static noise buzzes to life, seemingly from inside your skull. You shift, trying to locate the source, but Wally holds you in place. As the noise grows, the sounds of your friends fizzle out and die. It’s as if you’ve been placed on an invisible train and are moving steadily down the track, away from all the familiar sounds of your Neighbourhood - but you can’t feel the rumbling of the track, or hear the whistle of the wind.

“But…maybe you should.”

With Wally’s words the temperature noticeably drops, and gooseflesh breaks out on your arms. You shudder, wanting to open your eyes but finding that you can’t: your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. You’re stuck in place, pinioned to the grass (which you can no longer feel) as that buzzing sound inches up by the decibel, a nasty, steady crawl which leaves your brain awash in a sea of noise.

“Open your eyes.”

You do so.

And you can’t make sense of what you see.

The sky is gone. The tree is gone. The meadow is gone. Every detail from the Neighbourhood’s comforting landscape has evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a grayscale emptiness which fuzzes in and out like television static. Even the awful buzzing sound abruptly falls away, leaving your ears with nothing but the distant sound of an unseen tide.

Wally still sits in front of you, his hands grasping yours, but it’s like he’s sitting on nothing at all: somehow supported by a cushion of emptiness. It’s like the texture of the world has fallen out of reality.

Seized by vertigo, you tighten your grip on Wally’s hands. “What’s happening?!”

“Don’t worry,” says Wally. “You’re safe.”

“There’s nothing here,” you whisper. “Where is everyone?”

“Back Home,” says Wally. “They can’t see us right now. They’re not ready.” His smile turns coy. “But I think you are. Watch this.”

Wally reaches over and rustles in your backpack. Your heart crawls into your mouth; although you can see Wally’s hands in front of you, you can somehow still feel his hands holding both of yours, keeping you locked in place. You try to look down and make sense of this impossibility, but your eyes are stuck, glued to Wally’s face. You can only watch, terrified, as he takes out your chocolate bar and locks in his gaze.

Without warning, Wally’s eyes flare open, heavy lids drawing back and revealing the full size of his large, black pupils. Wally’s stare travels steadily down the chocolate bar, a focused intensity searing from his eyes like a laser. Somehow as he stares, bite marks are chunked out of the chocolate, as if some great invisible person is taking enormous chomps out of both the bar and wrapper. In seconds, the chocolate is gone.

Panic grips your chest, and you start to hyperventilate. The world tilts, and you’re scared you might actually puke. Wally blinks, his eyelids half-blanketing those pupils once more, and he looks at you with concern. When his eyes connect, your chest convulses with panic: a type of terror you’ve never experienced before threatening to claw its way out of your body and devour you whole.

“What happened?!”

“Oh, don’t be scared,” says Wally, his voice floating and cloudlike. “This is just how I eat.”

“How - did you - do - that?” you gasp.

“I’m not sure. I’ve always eaten this way.” Wally inclines his head in sympathy. “I am sorry if I’ve made you afraid. I usually only eat when others are blinking. That way, I don’t interrupt them. I don’t want to be rude."

You suck in a huge gulp of breath. “Wally, this is…impossible,” you manage. “I want to leave - I want to go Home-”

“You can’t.”

Wally shakes his head mildly from side to side, but his eyes seem to stay still, locked into the centre of his face. No matter how much you strain to move, those incredible eyes remain right in front of you, always at the same distance, never looking away - and never blinking. In your peripheral vision, you see Wally’s hand reach up towards your face. He cups your cheek. The sensation of feeling three arms belonging to a two-armed person on your body sends a rush of nausea through your throat. Wally strokes your skin with his thumb.

“You understand me so well,” says Wally. “You see me, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand.” Another wave of dizziness rises up, pushing behind your eyeballs. The sensation is the same as the pressure of allergies arising on a high pollen day - yet you can no longer smell the flowers of the meadow. You try again in vain to rip your gaze away from Wally’s, but you can’t - and you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

Wally’s thumb stops, resting in the dip of your cheek. “I love my friends, but they only see one part of me. The part they want to see. But you…”

His thumb trails to the edge of your lip.

“...you see all of me.”

You’re split in two. Your brain, the logical part of your thinking, is screaming at you to do anything - to move, to scream, to run as fast as you can into the nightmare emptiness and beg for help. But the other part of you - your traitorous, emotional heart - douses the runaway fire of your fear with the intoxication of Wally’s touch. You find yourself leaning into his hand, savouring how perfectly his cheek cups your palm, and the slight fuzz of his thumb teasing your lip.

“I do,” you whisper. Suddenly, your body relaxes, and you slump forward. You feel very tired. The panic which gripped your body only moments ago is now quashed, flattened into a fine layer of dust by the weight of Wally’s impossibly black eyes. Now your nervous system is nothing but the aftermath: the feeling of fight-or-flight chemicals settling into your bloodstream, leaving you weak and sluggish.

Now, Wally’s eyes are not a source of terror. They’re a blanket you wish to curl up beneath, and never wake up.

“I think you’re special, you know,” says Wally. “The way I feel when I’m around you is…different, than with the others. You’re the absolute most.”

Wally’s words settle over your brain like a dream. You watch, your eyes heavy and drained, as Wally brings his hands up to his chest and forms the shape of his heart with his fingers. You’re no longer scared of the physical contradictions of Wally holding your hands whilst signing his affection. It seems in this reality, Wally can have as many hands as he wants.

This is why Wally’s next question confuses you so:

“Do you think if our friends saw me like this…they’d run away?”

Wally’s words are becoming harder to process. The world around him tunnels. Even though you’re sure that you’re fixed in place, sitting on some immovable, textureless cushion, Wally’s eyes grow larger, encroaching evermore on your limiting field of vision. The longer you look, the more of Wally’s scleras are swallowed by his expanding pupils. Those blown, void-black pools seem to come with their own gravity, and you’re slipping into their inconceivable pull, ready to be strewn and stretched and ripped apart by their physics.

“Oh, Wally,” you try to say, but your tongue slackens, and his name comes out as, ‘Waaalllllyyyy.’ “We love you so much. You can’t make us run away.”

Wally smiles, and you think it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“How I wish that were true.”

Suddenly, Wally’s eyes shift just the slightest bit to the left. The effect is like unsealing a pressure chamber. For a moment you are released from his eyes, and your brain and body scramble as one, free-falling and bracing to break against the ground with a hypnic jerk. However, Wally realises his mistake and grabs you by the shoulder - another impossible arm - and forces you to look back into his eyes.

“Shh. Don’t strain yourself. The more you resist, the worse you’ll feel.”

You blink rapidly, trying to reorient yourself in space. Wally’s touch grounds you again, holding you steady in this non-existent space. You try to reply, but your mouth now hangs open, jaw useless. Saliva collects in a pool under your tongue, but Wally still keeps his thumb at the edge of your lip, now rubbing soothing circles against your flesh.

“We don’t have much time,” says Wally. “But…thank you for this. You can’t know how much I appreciate you.”

The warm flush of his approval works its way through your unresponsive body. Your muscles contract, dopamine and serotonin coating your insides and bringing your fingers - still interlocked with Wally’s - into a sudden contraction. You force your mouth into a speech-ready shape, fuelled by his words and his touch and the sheer paradox of his being, and you try so desperately to say, ‘Wally, I love you- ’

But then he looks away.

The spell is broken. Like flipping to another television channel, the world around you snaps back into place in one vivid bound. All the colour, sounds and scents of the Neighbourhood re-enter your senses in one huge burst, and the force of it almost knocks you over. Wally - who is still holding your hands, just like before - keeps you steady, crushing your hands together like he would rather die than let go.

“Hey, you two!”

Looking away from Wally feels like ripping off a plaster. Your eyes alight on Julie trotting up the meadow’s slight incline, clutching a hotdog in one hand and a cooler in the other.

“Eddie wanted me to tell you we’re packing up,” Julie chirps. “Looks like a thunderstorm is coming.” She looks down at your hands, still intertwined with Wally’s, and grins. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Just some good old-fashioned fun,” says Wally, his voice impassive and gentle.

The ability for words has deserted you. You stare back at Wally, searching desperately for something supernatural in the darks of his eyes. Wally looks normal - as normal as a small, yellow puppet can - and his eyes are back to their half-lidded, sleepy-looking state. It takes a couple of nudges with his foot for Wally to bring you back to earth.

Wally lets go of your hands, and you can feel the blood pumping in the spaces between your fingers. You try standing up, but your legs are weak and wobbly, as if you’d just run a marathon while sitting in one spot. They would’ve collapsed beneath you, but Wally catches you before you slip. He hauls you up and loops his arm around yours.

“Just hungry,” Wally says with a smile. “Let’s get you Home."

Julie leads the way down the small embankment, with Wally supporting your timid, uneasy steps. You soon reach your neighbours, now busying themselves in tidying up the remnants of your picnic. Upon seeing you, they all crowd around, asking if you’re okay. Barnaby remarks that you look terribly pale, and Sally offers to bring you a drink. However, Wally shoos them off, admonishing them in a familial sort of way. He reassures them that you’ve just had a small fainting spell, and need to get some rest.

Now free of the others, Julie, Wally and yourself make the way home - and you’re thankful it’s only a short distance. When you finally reach your porch you want to fall over onto the steps, but Wally keeps you held upright: a firm, reassuring presence at your side.

“You need to tell us if you get this again, okay?” says Julie, looking at you with worry in her eyes.

“Okay,” you say, giving a weak nod.

“Thank you. Feel better soon, okay?”

Julie gives you and Wally a final glance over. Having determined you’ll be more than fine in Wally’s care, she bids her goodbyes and skips off to help the rest of your neighbours.

“Ha ha ha,” laughs Wally. “Julie is a good friend. I’m lucky to have her in my life.”

You look sideways at Wally. He catches your eye, and dips his head in a nod. “I feel the same way about you,” he says.

The question is implied in his voice - a little waver at the edge of his words.

“Wally…I don’t really understand what happened today,” you say. “But…I know it doesn’t change how much I like you."

The beam that dawns on Wally’s face is so wide, it almost cracks in two. “Thank you,” he whispers.

You can’t help but return the grin. “Thank you for being vulnerable with me.”

Wally lets go of your arm, and turns to face you properly. He reaches up one hand, and then hesitates, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours as if pondering a question.

Finally, Wally leans in and gives you a small, gentle kiss on the cheek. You inhale sharply, your arms hanging limply by your side and your fingers curling into questioning shapes. His mouth is plush and downy, and the impression of his lips sends a toasty-sweet feeling rocketing through your body.

When Wally pulls back, his yellow skin is dusted pink about his cheeks.

“Always know,” he says softly, “that I love you very much.”

Then, he’s leaving. You watch in stunned silence as Wally’s back retreats into the distance, making his way to join the throng of your neighbours. A slight rumble in the distance makes you look up: a cluster of thunderclouds gather at the edge of the Neighbourhood, fat with the promise of rain.

You touch your lips gently, and smile. Then, you retreat inside the safety of your home…with the warm memory of Wally’s kiss playing in your mind, and static still buzzing in your fingers.

#wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home arg #julie joyful #frank frankly #eddie dear #poppy partridge #barnaby b. beagle #sally starlet #howdy pillar #starleskawrites #welcome home fic

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writemekpop · 1 year ago

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Birthday Blues (Part 1) | Na Jaemin

Summary: When Jaemin thinks you’ve forgotten his birthday, you have the biggest argument you've ever had.

Genre: Boyfriend!Jaemin, angst

Word Count: 1k

Jaemin was furious. It was his birthday today, and you, his girlfriend of three years, had forgotten about it.

When he woke up this morning, he could barely contain his excitement. He was expecting to see you in something red and lacey, get breakfast in bed, and have some delicious morning loving.

But to his disappointment, he woke up to you, moody, sweaty, and hurling into the bin. You were hungover from your girls’ night out the previous evening.

Soon, it was 7PM, and you still hadn’t mentioned Jaemin’s birthday.

“Could we stop by Yuta’s bar before we go home?” You asked. “They’re having a special offer. Five cocktails for five pounds! I heard they make your vomit look all rainbow-y.”

Jaemin scoffed. “That sounds just fantastic. But two nights in a row? Are you sure this drinking thing isn’t becoming a problem? Plus…” He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. “Isn’t there something else you’d rather be doing… especially today?”

“What’s so special about today?” you said, shaking your head. “Come on, it’s only a mile away. Do you have money for an Uber? I left my wallet at home.”

“You’re so freaking forgetful,” Jaemin snapped.

You raised your hands in surrender. “Alright, jeez! It’s just a wallet.”

“It’s not just that! What about my cat? You forgot to feed Sushi all week while I was in Morocco. She nearly starved to death! Or what about when you forgot where you parked my BMW, and I had to miss Jeno’s leaving party to search for it! And what about my bir-“

Jaemin stopped mid-sentence when he realised that you weren’t listening to him. You were busy typing away on your iPhone.

Jaemin yanked the phone out of your manicured fingers and threw it onto the floor. The screen cracked.

You gasped. Putting your smashed phone into your pocket, you turned to your boyfriend.

“Can we just… go inside?” You pointed at the bar. “I promise, everything will be-“

“Oh my god,” Jaemin said, cutting you off. “Why are you so desperate to go inside? If you really want to see your friends so much then, let’s go.”

Jaemin grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you through the door.

The inside of the bar was pitch black.

“Would you look at that?” Jaemin spat. “It’s empty. Did you forget what time you were supposed to meet up? God, why are you so dumb?”

“Jaem-“ You waved frantically at him, but he wouldn’t stop.

“You’re so disorganised… and- you’re lazy! It’s my birthday and all you’ve done is whine about your own stupid life. Why do you have to be so fucking selfish? We are done, you… you bitch!”

You and Jaemin stared at each other in stony silence. Jaemin was panting, and you were fighting back tears.

Just then, the lights flickered on.

“S-surprise,” came a bunch of unsure voices.

Jaemin turned around to see the shocked and disapproving faces of everyone he loved staring back at him.

A live band in the corner started to play ‘Happy Birthday’, but someone told them to shut up.

The room was filled with fifty of his friends, parents, cousins, colleagues… Haechan was standing in the middle of the crowd, holding a huge three-tier chocolate cake. A big banner saying Happy Birthday, Jaemin hung from the wall.

Jaemin turned to you. “You… did all this?”

Your face was wet with tears. You pushed past Jaemin and ran out of the door.

“Wait!” Jaemin shouted, but it was too late.

“Way to go, buddy,” Renjun said, slapping him a little too hard on his back. “It’s called a surprise party… ever heard of it? Y/n spent weeks organising it.”

Jaemin tugged a hand through his hair, throat dry. “I’ve really messed things up, haven’t I?”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “Welcome back to Singles Night, bud. We missed you.”

---

Jaemin ran all the way home. When he saw you in the bedroom, his heart surged. You hadn’t left!

You were facing away, standing by the open wardrobe.

“What are you doing?” Jaemin asked, frowning.

You spun around at the sound of his voice. “Packing. You said it yourself, J, we’re done.”

Jaemin ran towards you and pulled the bag from your hands. “I didn’t mean any of that! I was just… angry. I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You shook your head, taking the bag back. “Jaemin… you called me a bitch. Do you not respect me at all? How can you expect me to stay with you after that?”

Jaemin crumpled onto the bed, tears threatening to spill. He hugged his knees tight. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

You sat beside him on the bed, shoulders drooping.

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered. “You deserve someone… better.”

“No!” Jaemin shook his head. “Please don’t leave me.” He leant his head against your shoulder, crying.

You sat in silence for a moment. Then you sucked in a deep breath and stood up.

“I have to,” you said. “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

You walked out of the room. A few moments later, Jaemin heard the thud of the front door.

Jaemin stood up. He looked at the picture frame on the bedside table, it was of you and him, laughing whilst sharing an ice cream.

He picked it up and threw it against the wall, screaming. The glass shattered.

He ran into the living room, head spinning. That’s when he saw it.

There was a small box on the coffee table, wrapped with a purple bow, and a message that said ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAEMIN’. He opened the box, fingers trembling.

Inside was a sleek brass ring. He picked it up and read the inscription on the ring.

“Y/n and Nana forever.”

What a fool he was.

Part 2 coming soon...

—

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lessi-lover · 1 year ago

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jealous darling? II l.williamson x reader

★ jealous darling? II l. williamson x reader

your heart swelled with pride whenever you watched your favourite blonde play, especially in those times when the defender had her best moments. there was a magnetic energy about her on the pitch, she was nothing short of extraordinary on the field, a force to be reckoned with in the world of football. her skills were unparalleled, and her determination was unmatched. with a ball at her feet, she gracefully glided across the grass, making every movement seem effortless, yet incredibly precise.

today, she played exceptionally well, making smart passes and moving up the pitch when needed, showcasing her ability in all areas of the sport. you had always enjoyed watching the game from afar, but seeing her play brought an entirely new level of joy towards the english sport. as the match ended with a 4-1 score, you joined the other family of the players on the pitch to celebrate the win. wearing her number and name proudly on your back, you couldn't help but beam as you spotted her jumping up and down with her teammates. her face lit up upon seeing you, and she climbed over the barrier with a large grin that showed her post-match high.

"you were outstanding, as always, williamson," you complimented her as she reached you. her smile widened at your words, but not before telling you off for the replacement of her favourite name, - babe. feeling like you were sorry enough, she leaned in and smashed her lips against yours for a special celebration kiss. "your into the semi's!" you exclaimed joyously, her excitement visible from head to toe. "and you're wearing my shirt," she responded, clearly delighted at your choice of clothing. you giggled at her energy, her gaze never wavered from you, admiration evident on her features.

she pulled you in close to her arms, voice carrying a sense of intimacy that made your stomach flip. "couldn’t have done it without you my girl," she murmured against your lips, her proud smile never doubtful.

"it was all you, my love. I just showed up," you chuckled, reaching up to peck her still red and puffy cheeks. "you played so well." "thankyou," she blushed slightly at your praise, grin never fading as she tucked her head tightly into your shoulder. "did you enjoy the game?" she asked, her eyes searching for any sign that you hadn’t had fun. it was her caring nature that made you love her ten times more.

"always. i love watching you play, leah," you replied and her heart swelled at your confession. ”Cmon, let's get out here.” she whispered into your ear, quickly collecting your stuff and making your way out of the stands.

_____________

the celebrations continued for hours after the game, many of the arsenal crew - including you and leah, had organised to have a gathering in a quiet bar you were all familiar with. unfortunately, this resulted in a lot of alcohol being passed around, which meant the majority of the celebrants were teetering on the edge of full-blown drunkenness, something the blonde wasn’t too fond of participating in the middle of a season.

you found yourself heavily engaged in an intense debate on why spitting on the pitch is a complete ick, between the new ‘it couple’ of the arsenal squad - caitlin & katie. “it’s not on purpose, it just happens.” katie defended, her accent somehow even thicker at the unhealthy amount of alcohol she had consumed throughout the night. revelling in the playful banter you were able to create, you added that “it’s not impossible to not do it," and that you had successfully managed to get your stubborn girlfriend to quit it. amidst the laughter and lively conversation, you felt a pair of familiar hands wrap tightly around your hips.

"leah!" katie greeted her. "have you come to save me from your dreadful girlfriend? I swear all she does is complain." katie joked, jabbing you lightly in the shoulder, which resulted in a glare from you. "she's gorgeous, so watch your mouth miss yellow card." leah retorted, referring to the yellow card the left-winger had received in the game against brighton.

"i'm afraid I have to end your little debate though, sorry girls." katie grabbed caitlin's hand leading them away, but not before brushing passed the blonde, whispering something in her ear. her grip became more and more possessive, as she pulled you even closer into her body. she led you away, pulling you into an empty room, seeking a little bit of quietness, all the loud bar sounds. making it hard for you to hear each other "what's wrong, my love?" you asked, trying to remember what happened during the night, if anything had upset your favourite girl. she held you firmly, arms tightly secured around your waist. "you're mine." she murmured against your neck, her tone possessive yet still loving. "i only want you to celebrate with me.” Her voice carried a subtle pout, eyes fixated on you as though you were her entire world - you were.

"feeling possessive today, are we?" you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. leah made a dismissive noise, clearly unfazed by your sudden brattiness, - she'd deal with that later. “stupid katie," she muttered, peppering soft kisses on your collarbones. "what did she say to you?" you questioned, intrigued at whatever the blonde would say next. "don’t worry about it, not important," she replied, obviously more engaged in making out with your neck, instead of answering you. snd there it was, clear as day, - jealousy. s newfound trait, which intrigued you to try and see how far the girl would go. "jealous, darling?" you teased, your eyes glinting playfully. “it’s baby to you.” she scolded. amused by her sudden possessiveness, you continued to tease her, your grin unwavering. "perhaps you're just jealous because you've never outplayed katie in the midfield," you said, the smile on your face matching your teasing tone.

how much could you wind up the blonde you wondered."you're mine, don’t forget it." she responded simply, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

#leah williamson #woso blurbs #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #woso

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cherryredlove · 6 months ago

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☆ you spin me right round ☆

Modern! Record shop owner! au Aemond Targaryen x Bar owner! reader SMUT

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

You're the blooming business owner that owns the chic new bar in town, The Alchemist's Guild. All that's left to do is befriend your sourpuss neighbour, the cool owner of the music shop Targaryen Tracks. Maybe a crisis will do the trick?

Word Count: 1.9k

Themes: SMUT, 18+, rough oral smex, pearl necklace, sex in semi-public place

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Owning a bar was always a dream of yours, and now that dream has finally come true. The place you purchased is a hidden gem on the artsy quarter of the city of King's Landing, nestled between eclectic shops and quirky businesses, with just enough foot traffic to guarantee interest. You’ve christened it The Alchemist’s Guild, and you hoped it'll become the hottest bar in the area soon.

Every bottle and glass has been carefully selected, and you’ve spent countless hours transforming the run-down space into a chic, cosy haven for anyone seeking to unwind. Edison bulbs hang from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden surfaces and plush seating. The shelves behind the bar are stocked with an impressive array of gins and wines, and the scent of fresh herbs and citrus fills the air.

The only hurdle now? Making friends with the neighbours, particularly the one who runs the music shop next door, Targaryen Tracks.

You’ve seen him a few times, Aemond Targaryen, always dressed impeccably in black, with silver hair and an ever-present scowl etched onto his face. His shop is a world of its own, filled with vintage records and obscure music that you occasionally hear through the walls.

Today, after a couple of good days of business, you decide it’s time to introduce yourself properly. Maybe you can even convince him to partner up for some musical collaborations, adding a unique touch to your bar’s atmosphere. With a deep breath, you step into Targaryen Tracks, the door chiming softly as you enter.

Aemond looks up from behind the counter, his single blue eye meeting yours with a curious, almost guarded expression. He nods in acknowledgement, though his lips barely form a smile.

"Hi, I’m Y/N," you say, offering a friendly smile. "I just opened the bar next door, The Alchemist’s Guild. Thought I’d come by and say hello."

"Aemond," he replies curtly, giving you a once-over before returning his gaze to the record he’s examining.

The shop is a paradise for any music lover, with rows upon rows of records neatly organized by genre and era. The atmosphere is nostalgic, and you can’t help but feel a pang of admiration for the meticulous care he’s put into curating his collection. You too take great pride in organisation and decoration.

You take a moment to look around, pretending to browse. The silence stretches between you, and you rack your brain for something to say, anything to break the ice.

"You’ve got quite the collection here," you venture, picking up a random record and pretending to study it. "I’ve been thinking about hosting some vinyl nights at the bar. You know, set up a record player, get some more out there stuff playing."

Aemond’s eye flickers with mild interest as he raises an eyebrow. "That so?"

You nod eagerly, hoping to engage him further. "Yeah! I think it’d be great to have something a bit more unique than just playlists. It’s a vibe, you know?"

He studies you for a moment, considering your words. "I suppose it could work," he admits, a hint of intrigue in his tone. "What kind of records are you looking to play?"

"Honestly, I’m open to anything that sets the right mood," you reply with enthusiasm. "Jazz, blues, rock, maybe even some classical if it fits."

Aemond nods, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I might have a few recommendations."

A spark of hope flickers inside you. Perhaps this sourpuss neighbor of yours isn’t as aloof as he seems. Maybe there's a chance for some collaboration after all.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Business at The Alchemist’s Guild is booming. You’ve managed to create a buzz around town, and the place is packed almost every night. The combination of exquisite drinks and the cosy atmosphere has made your bar a go-to spot for many locals and visitors alike. It's become a favourite with the artsy scene in the quarter, putting you firmly on the map.

But tonight, as you’re hosting bustling Saturday evening, disaster strikes. The trusty sound system crackles and dies with a sad whimper. Panic sets in as you realize that without music, the bar loses a significant part of its charm.

As the clamor of conversation fills the air, you frantically fiddle with the cables and speakers, hoping for a miracle. But nothing works.

Just when you're about to lose hope, an idea strikes.

"Hold down the fort for me, Dyana!" You call out to the bartender you employed.

You dash out of the bar and head straight to Targaryen Tracks, where Aemond is about to close up for the night.

Aemond looks up at you as you barge into the shop, mildly surprised to see you so flustered.

"Aemond, I need a huge favour," you blurt out, trying to catch your breath. "My sound system just broke down, and I have a packed bar with no music. Can you help me out?"

He pauses. "What do you need?"

"Your records," you say quickly, hope rising in your chest. "And your record player and speakers. Just for tonight. I’ll give you free drinks for a week in return."

He narrows his eye, contemplating the offer. After a moment, he nods. "Fine. But you handle the equipment with care."

Relief floods through you. "Thank you, thank you so much! I promise I'll be careful. You can even handle changing the records if that's better. "

Together, you gather a selection of records, and Aemond helps you carry them over to the bar. With his expertise, you set up the record player, and soon, the rich, warm tones of vinyl fill the space, transforming the atmosphere instantly.

The patrons love it, and you can feel the tension leaving your shoulders as the night goes on smoothly. True to your word, you offer Aemond a drink on the house as a gesture of gratitude. He graciously accepts your Greyjoy Gin and tonic with a small smile.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

As the night draws to a close, the last of your customers finally trickle out, leaving the bar empty save for you and Aemond. The soft glow of the Edison bulbs casts a cosy light over the room, and the record player softly spins its last tune.

"Thank you again," you say, leaning against the bar, feeling the exhaustion of the night catching up to you. "You really saved me tonight."

Aemond shrugs, a faint smirk on his lips. "It was interesting. Your patrons seem to appreciate good music."

You laugh softly, nodding in agreement. "I owe you. Seriously, free drinks for a week."

He takes a sip of his drink, regarding you with an appraising gaze. "Maybe we can make this a regular thing. Vinyl nights, as you said. I can curate the music."

"That would be amazing," you reply, feeling your heart race a little. "I think it’d be a hit."

As you tidy up the bar, Aemond helps, and the two of you chat more easily than before. You discover that beneath his stoic exterior, he has a genuine passion for music and a dry sense of humour that you find surprisingly charming.

With the bar finally clean and ready for the next day, you both take a moment to relax, leaning against the counter again.

As the last record winds down to silence, an unexpected tension fills the air. The kind that lingers between two people until someone is brave enough to try.

It’s Aemond who makes the first move. His eye locks onto yours, and you see a flicker of something you hadn't quite noticed before. You feel your body light up.

Before you know it, he’s closing the distance between you, his presence commanding and electric. He pauses, giving you a moment to stop him if you wish, but you find yourself drawn in by the intensity of his gaze.

And then his lips are on yours, firm and insistent, sending a jolt down your spine. You kiss him back, matching his fervour with your own.

Aemond’s hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, grasping at his hair. His mouth is hot and heady, and you moan into his as his hips grind against yours.

You barely notice as you’re backed against the bar, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of the kiss. Aemond’s hands are exploring now, tracing a path down your sides, and you let out a soft sigh of approval, urging him on.

The kiss deepens, his touch is confident, and you can feel the hardness of his cock against your tender pussy. Your body reacts, arching into him to relieve your aching sex.

Aemond unzips your trousers, moaning at how wet you are, before gliding his fingers into your soaked heat. You cling to him, mewling, and bit down hard onto his neck. Aemond’s long fingers move inside you, fingering you with a beckoning motion. His eye rolls back as you grasp his cock in your hand, massaging through his trousers.

Aemond hoists you up onto the bar's counter, kissing you roughly before kneeling, facing your soaked pussy. Your hands grip his hair, urging him onto your heat. His tongue flicks out to lick your juices, and the moan you let out spurs him to bury his face.

His long nose is shoved against your clit, rubbing you in the mot perfect way as his tongue laps you expertly. Your thighs squeeze his head tightly. One of his hands grips your soft thigh hard, the other resumes its ministrations inside your tight pussy, making you choke and feel the hot lick of pleasure push you higher and higher. You grind against his face, Aemond sucking your clit with suchbvigour that you cry out, cumming hard on him. You cream against his tongue, and he laps it all up with a deep moan.

Once your head has stopped swimming at the pleasure of your high, you wobble down and fall to your knees. His thick cock sits right in front of your face, and he slowly parts your lips with the red cockhead. It's huge, you run out of mouth room pretty quickly as his hands grip your hair. You moan, the vibration making his hips stutter, and begin to suck him hard.

"Your lips look so beautiful wrapped arouud me baby," he rasps out. "I'll cum if you carry on."

Enthused, you bob your head faster, hollowing out your cheeks and rubbing your tongue right against the slit of his tip. When you fondle his balls with your hands and swallow hard, Aemond releases a strangled cry of pleasure, face-fucking you hard and fast. He lets out an unintelligible moan as he cums. Some of it leaks down your throat, but he pulls out to cum all over your face and neck. You gasp at the hot white ropes of cum that decorate your collar bone.

Panting, he helps you up, swiping his cum off with a finger and parting your lips for you to swallow it. He kisses you gently, salty and sweet.

"Want to come back to mine?" He asks, eye glinting. You nod eagerly, kissing him sweetly. His hands hold you firmly, and you thank the Gods for your sound system breaking.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: save me modern aemond targaryen save me! love writing that so gimme ur feedback and send any requests! if u like this sort of stuff check out my masterlist!

#modern house of the dragon #modern aemond targaryen #modern aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hosue of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader smut #modern aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond targaryen smut

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parfaitblogs · 7 months ago

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¡hola! como estas? you said you were accepting requests? can i request a blurb of spencerxclumsy, anxious reader? in public, she drops something or spills a drink (something like that) and she feels ashamed bc she’s always been made to feel that way. but he helps and reassures her that it’s no matter to anyone? sorry if this is a dumb idea, ha. gracias x

spencer reid x clumsy! reader. fluff/comfort. 0.4k words. 18+ suggestive content at the end. reader is mentioned wearing makeup.

a/n: holaaa! i took spanish up until grade 10 don’t ask me anything else LOL. i wrote this as a fully fledged fic then reread the request and saw you said blurb so i rewrote it like this... is this what a blurb is… guys the last time i posted my writing was on ao3 in 2021 and before that it was 2016 on wattpad so! i don’t know anything about anything! but if you want the full fic then just let me know because i am happy to post it :]

spencer reid who will catch you in the morning when you fall down the stairs – asking if you're okay, but not pressing when you nod your head, even with the tears blurring your vision that he could see.

spencer reid who walks back to the fast-food joint you went to for lunch, because you dropped the paper bag full of the team's food, and you were, once again on the verge of tears, feeling awful because "that was everyone's lunch!" spencer reid who grabs your arm milliseconds before you slam into a pole to pull you out of the way, chest shaking with laughter as you glared at the inanimate object that got in your��way (not the other way around!). spencer reid who helped you pick up and organise all the files you had just scattered all over the police station's floor, then pulled you aside and spent thirty minutes calming you down because “it's okay” and “nobody will even notice”.

then, spencer reid who will stare at you with furrowed eyebrows and a deep frown when you escape from the bar after your fifth and final incident of the day – pushing you over the edge; spilling your drink that rossi had so kindly bought (not that he really had a choice) all over yourself. who will then follow you out after cleaning it up the best he could, and joke with you to distract you from the ache in your heart and the tears streaking down your face, clearing a path through your makeup. who will ask you what's going on in that "beautiful head of yours", and get thoroughly confused when you say you're embarrassed about everything that had happened today. who will call you angel and explain that "embarrassment is caused when we think the self-image we cultivated isn't being received that way anymore", and make you laugh because of course he has an explanation for being embarrassed.

spencer reid who will reassure you that he isn't making fun of you in his brain if you fall over or spill a drink all over yourself – quite the opposite actually. no, he is instead worrying about the bruise you will no doubt have tomorrow, or the fact that your skin is now sticky and you're probably very uncomfortable. and he tells you that "nothing you do is embarrassing to me" and that "everything you do is endearing. i wish you could see that". so you will just cry harder, which will prompt him to hug you and pepper your forehead with kisses. and then he will take you home (or back to your hotel room), and he will show you every other way he can make you embarrassed, until you're so flustered you can't protest any further.

#lia’s blurbs ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x self insert #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid blurb

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captain-joongz · 1 year ago

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Abraxas; Act 1, Interlude I

Pairing: mafia boss!Min Yoongi x police officer!reader

Genre: angst, humour and some fluff, investigative, dark themes, slowburn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Amidst a possible scheme against him and his organisation, Yoongi also has to also deal with the new and quite ambitious police officer. But why does he find himself so reluctant to?

Word count: cca 13.5k

Warnings: Yoongi POV! , discussion of illegal activities, drugs, tailing/stalking, mentions of death and blood, allusions to murder and drug deals

THIS ISN'T THE FIRST CHAPTER, IT'S ACTUALLY CHAPTER 2, PLEASE CHECK OUT THE SERIES MASTERLIST OR CLICK PREVIOUS PART FOR CHAPTER 1

Series masterlist | Previous part | Next part

A/N: it's Yoongi's POV!!! yes i'm on the midnight sun trend hehe. sorry for the slight delay, but here it is in all its glory, hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter too ^^

I threw back the remnants of my whiskey and sighed with the pleasant burn. I wasn’t exactly having the best evening and I entirely blamed Jimin for it. And Tae too, he wasn’t about to get off scot-free. I wasn’t even supposed to be in Dynamite tonight and the incessant buzzing of my phone in my pocket kept reminding me that I was sorely needed in The Rose to deal with a difficult customer.

The longer I stood in the hallway leaning against a wall waiting for Taehyung to show up, the more nervous and pissier I was growing. Someone kept blowing up my phone as if that was going to get me there faster, when I had to take over from Namjoon to deliver these documents and Taehyung was late. I tapped my foot on the floor impatiently and hypnotised the corner leading to back to the club with my eyes. It was just one of those nights.

Ten minutes later I finally lost my patience and made my way back into the main room and beelined straight for the bar.

“Hyung,” Yeonjun greeted me as soon as I got there and automatically reached for my favourite whiskey, “Rough night?” I just hummed, too frustrated by the absolute shitstorm today was to keep up the friendly chatter.

“Some fucker’s tearing apart The Rose because Jimin messed up and Tae’s late,” I grumbled and accepted the glass gratefully. I kicked it back in a single gulp and handed the glass back along with the folder of documents. Yeonjun looked at it confused but accepted it nonetheless.

“Give this to Taehyung once he finally gets here, thanks,” I said and immediately turned to leave. It didn’t sit well with me leaving it here just like that, but Yeonjun was trustworthy, the kid’s proven himself a few times since he started working the bar here, so I at least felt a little consoled by that. And if he did try to fuck me over, I knew who I left it with last, so it would be fucking stupid.

My phone started buzzing again, but this time it was a phone call. Jimin. I gritted my teeth and moved back to the empty hallway to take it.

“Hyung, please, Mr. Cho is going to kill me,” Jimin pleaded immediately, “He’s been asking for you for the past 30 minutes.”

“You were the one that messed up his order, Jimin,” I said irritated, “You should deal with it.” There was a beat of silence which allowed me to hear the distant screaming in the background.

“I know, hyung, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” the blond man answered, and he sounded so genuinely remorseful, I didn’t have it in myself to keep scolding him. I let out a sigh and took it a bit easier on him.

“I told you to check the goods,” I chided him a bit more gently, “and to make sure you’re working with reliable sources. You sold him subpar shit for the full price. We can’t have that happening at The Rose.”

“I know, hyung,” Jimin repeated, and I could hear his pout through the phone, “I’m going to deal with Dongwook once I’m done here.” I smiled a little at that. Jimin often fooled people into thinking he’s soft and weak with his angelic looks, but he was a force to be reckoned with once crossed. So many have tried to fuck him over thinking he’s the weakest link only to be very painfully proven wrong by him.

“Take Kookie with you, I think he’s with Namjoon right now,” I told him simply, much less angry than when the conversation started. I checked my watch again. Taehyung was still nowhere to be seen, even though he told me he’d be here almost a half hour ago. Jimin on the other side of the phone just hummed.

“Do you know where Taehyung is?” I asked him, some frustration making it back into my voice, “I’m going to have to teach him what 30 minutes mean.” Jimin started answering but was cut off by aggressive knocking on a door somewhere in his background.

“Oh no,” he just said, “That’s definitely Mr. Cho. When are you going to get here?” I sighed and pinched the root of my nose.

“Put him on the phone,” I told him and leaned fully on the wall to prepare myself for this. There was some shuffling, muffled screaming, then the door opened and suddenly I could hear the man yelling at full volume. Jimin told him something and it made him calm down a little. Then I could hear heavy breathing.

“Mr. Min,” Cho growled into the receiver, “Explain yourself. I paid full buck for this shit, it’s barely consumable. I gave it to my boys and they barely even touched it.”

“Calm down Mr. Cho,” I said calmly, “Jimin made a mistake by not checking it over, but there seems to be some attempt from our suppliers to fuck us over. We’re thoroughly investigating it now, my apologies. If you could wait a few days, I’ll get you your usual. And a guaranteed discount on the next batch.” Technically, I wasn’t even lying. There was an attempt to fuck us over, only they weren’t our usual suppliers, they were some ghouls Jimin was trying out. I warned him to be sure they’re trustworthy and he assured me everything was under control. Sure seems like it…

“Fine,” Mr. Cho finally gritted out, “You’re so fucking lucky your services are otherwise top-tier, or else I’d you have you swimming with the fish.” I fought to supress a scoff. Mr. Cho has always been like this, all bark no balls. He loved to threaten others as if he had some power, but all he had was a hefty inheritance that has thinned considerably through the years he spent getting high in my clubs. Always quick to blow up and throw his name around, but calmed down the moment he spoke to me cause he knew I wouldn’t tolerate his bullshit.

Jimin fucking hated him and hated dealing with him, cause he’d always get yelled at for everything, but it would get resolved the moment I’d get involved even though I said the same thing Jimin did just moments before me. Mr. Cho would always grumble and make vague threats, but ultimately go with it cause he knew if one of us had the power to make people disappear in the river, it was definitely me. That’s why I occasionally took the time to remind him of his place.

“Be careful with your words, Mr. Cho, to some they could be taken as a provocation,” I warned him with a faux friendly tone, “Give the phone back to Jimin.” The order was clear, and Mr. Cho didn’t even argue more, thoroughly settled and not interested in getting into more trouble. There was some shuffling and then Jimin was back on the line.

“Hyung, thank you,” he heaved a sigh of relief as the door slammed shut on his side, “He just left. I don’t fucking understand why he always needs to hear from you when I tell him the same shit. What did you tell him anyway? He deflated like a carnival balloon.” Jimin chuckled a little and I hummed.

“The usual stuff,” I answered vaguely, “I gotta go now. If you hear from Taehyung, tell him he’s dead meat.” With that I hung up and went back to the bar.

Only, I stopped dead in my tracks on the way over. There, sitting on a bar looking incredibly out of place in plain t-shirt and jeans, sipping on a drink and watching the dancefloor with intense displeasure, was a quite familiar face.

Immediately on my return from the station last week I had Jungkook run a background check on the new officer in the force. I was surprised I managed to miss they got a newbie, but now I was as familiar with her as she was with me. What I didn’t expect though, was running into her in one of my clubs. I took a moment to watch her, coming up with a strategy on how to deal with this. Either she’s here undercover or she’s a naughty cop and wants something. And finding out which one would infinitely improve my day.

Mood instantly better at the prospect, I made my way over to her side. Looking back, I had no idea I was about to step into something that changed the course of my entire life.

In terms of first meetings, it was a tense one. Surprisingly, I found her quite easy to read, with her pursed lips in annoyance and fire in her eyes. She had the aura of a new young cop, eager to prove themselves, eager to solve all crime. It made me want to mess with her.

Every fibre of her being just screamed ambition and conviction, and even though I could see her naivety, I sensed the sharp edge that she was carrying inside. I knew, this was a person that has fought for everything, and they would continue to claw their way up until they tore themselves a piece of the world they deserved. In shock I realised I saw a little bit of my younger self in her, which forced a surprised laugh out of me. We both strived for different things, but I recognised the emotion with startling clarity.

Maybe that was what led me to talking more openly than I usually did. But somewhere deep down I needed her to understand. The world isn’t what she wants it to be, especially not in these parts. The sooner she would realise that the easier it would be to swallow.

Really, I shouldn’t even have been surprised when one day Jungkook came into my office with a tablet in hand and a serious look on his face. I immediately turned away from my notebook and leaned to the side, preparing myself for whatever he had to show me.

When the tablet finally did make it in front my face, it was a picture of a black, old and slightly banged up car. The car that we’ve noticed cruising suspiciously around a little too much. Jungkook’s tattooed finger swiped right and the next picture showed a close up of a driver taken probably from some nearby security camera. It was our little friendly neighbourhood police officer.

I smirked to myself. So, it seems she does not in fact know how to step away from things that might prove to be a little too much for someone with her ambition. I hummed to myself a little, not knowing whether I was disapproving or impressed at her continued ignorance despite my warnings.

Jungkook swiped one last time to a document showing the license plate being registered to her name. I laughed and leaned back, making myself comfortable in the chair. Jungkook, on the other hand, sighed and put the tablet away.

“What do you wanna do about that?” he asked seemingly neutral, but I knew the look on his face. It was the kind of disapproval I saw in him often when police force was involved. He believed I should be more careful and not toe the line with the detectives this much. Jungkook already knew I wouldn’t ask for him to deal with it, but that I would let things progress naturally, and he was preparing himself for swallowing the order down even though his opinions differed.

“Jungkookie…” I sighed, “What am I supposed to say when you look at me like that?” I teased him gently, giving him a little smile.

“Hyung, you know how I feel about this,” he explained softly, looking a little more like a kid when he pursed his lips like that. I often felt guilty about pulling him into this shit all those years ago, no matter how much Jimin insisted the kid’s okay with it, that’s why I always treasured those moments when it was just the two of us, when Jungkook would stop being the mad dog protecting a criminal and go back to a youngster playing around with his hyung. I patted his shoulder and tried to look as reassuring as possible.

“It’s fine, Jungkookie,” I assured him, “I’m not gonna get in trouble.” He looked at me like a kid that already knew the Santa wasn’t real and felt insulted his parents still tried to bullshit him every Christmas.

“You’re playing with fire too much,” Jungkook answered petulantly, “You’re making my job infinitely more difficult.” I sighed and stood up. Jungkook had a sudden growth spurt some years ago and now towered over me like a mountain, so I found myself looking up even though I wanted to console him. I gently clasped my hands over both of his shoulders and smiled again.

“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, “I swear. I know what I’m doing.” He frowned but ultimately said nothing.

“Let her be for some time,” I ended up declaring after a moment of silence, “I want to know what she’s doing. What she wants to know. Then we decide what to do next.” Jungkook tensely nodded and looked out of the window with a grumpy face. I laughed at him a little and patted his head. That set his mood a little better.

“Do you think they’re back to tailing us?” he asked eventually. I had gone back to looking over the email I had been in the middle of answering, so I looked up at the younger man surprised he chose to continue with the subject.

“Hard to say,” I hummed thoughtfully, “I don’t think so. She’s not using the official police car, but hers. I bet she’s on her own.” I wondered what she was trying to do, following me for days. With a slight smile I looked out of the window and zeroed in on her car parked a little ways away from the building, but still within eyesight.

What game are you playing, officer?

In the end Jungkook didn’t let me allow her to stalk us longer than a few days before he started pushing me to deal with it properly. There wasn’t a clear read of what her goal was, which disappointed me a little. I doubt she was in it just to follow me around and watch me run errands, but maybe I was expecting a little more than she actually planned on achieving. I didn’t know why that bummed me out so much and I didn’t want to dwell on it, lest I start sinking into some uncomfortable realisations.

I was aware that part of this sudden sympathy was coming from knowing her personal history, and I couldn’t have that. Not when her story was so similar to my boys, not when it made me soft while dealing with potential danger to everything we worked so hard for.

She was the other side of the coin of kids growing up on the street – you either end up a criminal or the police. Her injustice made her want to solve everything wrong with this world. Our injustice made us realise the perfect way to exploit a broken system. But really, we were both one and the same, born from the same mud and moulded by the same violence.

In some way, it made it even harder for me to understand how she could stand on the side of the law.

But in the end, I did have to deal with it. Except I wouldn’t. Few days later when I was sitting in my office with clear view of her car and Jungkook’s burning eyes throwing daggers my way, I decided it was time to test her a little. Just a little push wouldn’t hurt.

I went out the side door, the one I knew she wasn’t aware of so I could give her a little surprise. And I wasn’t disappointed. Laughing at her frustration was easy, toying with her notebook and watching her nervously eye me was easy, teasing her was easy, and before I knew it, it slipped out.

“Good job. Try a bit harder next time, though.”

The second I said it I knew Jungkook was absolutely going to whoop my ass and Namjoon will wholeheartedly agree that I deserve a good thrashing. But I also had my own game and the burning of her eyes when she internally cursed me out made me want to see where this one was going. I left with a pep in my step even though I felt Jungkook’s disapproving aura.

“Relax, Kookie,” I told him once we were comfortably sat in our car, “We just need to know where exactly she’s going with this.” The man just stared at me blankly before resigning on this.

“Fine, but if I think she’s getting too close, I’ll report her to the police for stalking and harassment,” he growled and sulked the entire rest of the way. I couldn’t even tell him not to do that, so I conceded on it. We both knew what the stakes were.

“We haven’t been visited by our blue friends in a while,” commented Taehyung one normal Saturday and thus cursed it into existence, as not even ten minutes later Jungkook got a call the cops are demanding entrance into Pied Piper.

I groaned and leaned my head on the top of the couch, as the two youngsters started bickering.

“You just had to fucking jinx it,” Jungkook whined and Taehyung laughed at him. “We were all thinking it!” was his defence while popping fruits in his mouth. I tried to just disappear into the sofa. Today I was not in the mood for the police at all.

“God, why now,” I allowed myself to whine out and pout a little, giving them a little rare cute display of displeasure. I was fucking exhausted, it was one hell of a week dealing with the mess Jimin made.

The rats were trying to dodge us and make a run for it, maybe seek help from one of our rival gangs, but I had Jimin and Hobi track them down before the end of the week. As usual, Hoseok worked his magic and found them within two days, but the problem was they already moved onto enemy turf. And if I didn’t want this to turn into a big mess, I had to bargain them out. So I spent the week going back and forth with the Kims. First I tried being nice, explaining to them I will deal with this and it will be easier for all involved if they just move over and let us do our thing, until I ultimately had to subtly threaten them to get the fuck out of my way or we burn our path through their ranks too. I had just enough of snarky interactions for one week.

I swore that once this has been dealt with, I would fucking tear Jimin into two and the man was very well aware of that, so he has been acting cute and sending me little gifts, teasingly telling me he’s “trying to get back into my good graces”. That did put a little smile on my face again, as I did have a huge soft spot for him, and gave me tiny bit of energy to deal with this tonight. I sighed. The sooner this is over the better. I resignedly gestured at Jungkook, and he immediately called back to allow them entry.

“I bet you 200 bucks the other half is trying to mess with the dinner the mayor planned for today in your hotel’s restaurant,” Taehyung said eagerly, moving closer to us to look at us expectantly. I looked towards Jungkook, too tired to play this game and kind of hoping for him to take the lead, but he only shrugged.

“Ugh, I think it might be The Rose,” I said eventually when the silence stretched on for too long, “they may have caught wind of the scene Mr. Cho made there.” We both looked at Jungkook again, but he didn’t say anything and just threw his hands up in an ‘I have no idea’ gesture.

Few minutes later the bouncer entered the balcony and behind him Jang and lo and behold – officer Lee, our righteous stalker, the warrior of broken laws. Immediately, my mood skyrocketed. Now this should be fun.

“Did we crash a funeral or what? What’s with the fits?”

That startled a laugh out of me. What an entrance. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Taehyung leaning forward in interest and immediately knew that these two, if given the chance, are going to be the biggest menaces and pains in my ass.

I’ll be honest, I did want to test her a little. Find out how strong her resolve actually is and how good she is at reading the room. While Jang pissed me off and kept his mouth running, I focused on her body language and facial expressions, which was a beautiful blend of resistance and nervousness. I thoroughly enjoyed the uneasiness with which she was watching everything around her, no doubt remembering our first official meeting. “No one is above the law”? Well, look at you now, officer. Unwittingly I smirked into my glass.

This time, I took my time to ease into the teasing and tested her reaction to little quips here and there. I knew she wouldn’t want me to go talking about the time she spent lurking in front of my office, ever since I confirmed her actions weren’t sanctioned by the department, so I tried an inconspicuous little remark about it.

I wasn’t disappointed.

It took me years to perfect “the stare”. The maknaes especially always made fun of it, but even they couldn’t deny it worked. While yes, part of it was an intimidation technique, but what I truly was interested in was the person’s reaction and, inevitably, when they met my eyes, what I would find reflected in them. Cowards wouldn’t meet my eyes at all, those who tried to put up a fight but ultimately would break under the pressure looked for a moment and then turned away or their eyes flitted around and never stayed on anything for too long. Shifty people who tried to fuck me over also had a specific look to them, I could tell just from a single glance that they were greasy motherfuckers not worth anyone’s while.

What I saw in her eyes when she looked at me head on, was pure fire. For a moment I lamented that she wasn’t on our side, because I would kill to recruit someone like this for us. She was playing it well, and even though I could see her discomfort, there was weight to her stare, and a challenge. From the corner of my eye, I could see Taehyung watching her with rapt interest and even Jungkook seemed to pay more attention. They knew about the trials I sometimes put people through, and would no doubt ask me after the police left what I had seen.

I smiled and relaxed. I could see Taehyung do the same while he leisurely sipped on his margarita. He undeniably already knew. Very well then, for now we would continue playing this game. I even found myself quite eager to see what was in store for us in the next few weeks.

It’s not that the other policemen were bad or lacking, well, some of them were, but particularly Park and Jang, who I’ve seen the most around, they weren’t exactly bad at their job. Just… Park was a little too old-school, he was intelligent and experienced, but left lagging behind the modern world. His eyes spoke of an upright but boring man, a jerk but one that couldn’t care less about some clown sitting in an expensive suit in a club he owned spouting bullshit. That’s why I did quite like the man, I could respect him to some extent, despite everything.

Jang on the other hand, my dislike for him knew no bounds. He was a slimy little shifty fucker, all polite smiles and acting decent, but I’ve dealt with enough scumbags to know not to trust a guy like that. There was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way and made me wary of him; honestly, I was just waiting for him to slip up to deal with him.

When they left, just as I expected, Taehyung leaned towards me and whispered: “So that was quite good.” I hummed and kept my eyes trained on the stairs. Jungkook had left to deal with the situation at the office, where presumably Namjoon had been going through another impromptu interview, so we were the only ones left in the club.

“It was definitely interesting,” I answered finally. This time it was Taehyung that hummed.

“So it’s safe to say we’re not getting rid of her that easily,” he mused out loud in between chomping on strawberries and sipping on a fresh drink. I snorted and looked at him. I gestured at Soobin, who was left here by Jungkook to supervise over me until he either returns or I go home, and he nodded and made his way back to the bar to get me another whiskey.

“No, I think we’ve only just begun.”

I finally checked my phone to see a few messages from Joon and surprisingly even one from Hobi. I scanned through Namjoon’s, which could be summed up to “police showed up, don’t worry I have everything under control”. I wasn’t too sure what Park was trying to achieve by this, but I trusted Namjoon to deal with these things completely. We’ve been by each other’s side for as long as I could remember and we’ve seen it all together, I knew his capabilities and there wasn’t anything the police could do to move him.

Taking the fresh whiskey from Soobin who had just returned, I opened the chat with Hobi. His message was short, simple and perfectly ominous.

Hope, 19:22: got em hyung, me w/ boys gonna deal with it 2nite

I smiled and sipped the cool drink, at long last able to fully relax into the couch and just let the background hum of music lull me into a state of comfortable calm. At least one thing would be handled. Next to me I could hear Taehyung make mindless conversation with Soobin, but at that point I was already half asleep. With a slight smirk on my lips, I took another sip and knew. No one would fuck with me.

“Is it just me or we haven’t seen our little detective in a while?” Tae asked while leisurely lying on a sofa in my office. Seokjin turned to him and then back to me to gauge my reaction. I made sure to keep my face neutral as I returned his stare.

“Last time you said that they showed up like ten minutes later,” I murmured looking out of the window on the snowy streets as if expecting the police van to materialise out of thin air.

“Yeah, well, she hasn’t been around for a hot minute,” Taehyung reiterated, his eyes jumping between his two hyungs and waiting would take the bait and entertain him with a conversation, “There was a week when hyung couldn’t even piss without her knowing about it.”

“Why are you so interested in that?” Seokjin asked neutrally, leaned against a bookshelf on the wall opposite of the sofa, “All I hear from Jungkook is grumbling that Yoongi’s being stupid and it’s a safety concern.” I scoffed and looked back towards the two men.

“It’s hardly that,” I said calmly, “I don’t know what he’s expecting me to do, she’s still the police. She’s breaking the laws, yes, which is hilarious by the way, but I’m not petty enough to go through the whole ordeal of reporting her just for sniffing around our business a little.” Seokjin gave me a look, a look that was so specific to him and exactly what I’d been afraid of, that I just dodged his eyes for my own sanity. I hoped Taehyung would keep his mouth shut because Jin, even though he acted silly a lot of the times, had the clairvoyant gift of perfectly guessing what was going through our heads at any given moment. I quickly spun around and averted his gaze despite the fact that it made me look even more suspicious. I just had to keep him from saying anything while Taehyung was still here, because the younger man could not keep himself from telling all the hyungs and Jungkook everything and I had no intention of being discussed like that.

“When is Hobi getting here?” I decided to change the subject. There was a moment of silence, and I could almost see Jin sending Tae warning glances to not bring it up anymore even though I had my back turned to them.

“He should be here in a few,” Seokjin answered at last and brought over to my table the cup of tea he was making, “It’s supposed to be a calming mix. It might not do much, but it’s better than whiskey.” I thanked him politely and the room slipped into silence again as I sipped it slowly while Jin watched me like a hawk.

Suddenly there was a groan coming from the sofa and Taehyung was clambering to his feet. “I can’t fucking take it anymore, I’m so bored,” he whined and skipped over to my table, “hyungs, let’s do something.” He did the thing when he tried to be cute (he was cute, but I made it my personal goal to never tell him or he’ll take advantage of it), started pouting and grabbed my shoulder lightly.

“Go take a walk then, he needs a moment of rest,” Jin told him resolutely. He clearly decided not to fall for it today, even though he usually indulged the younger man. “After all, that’s why I’m here in the first place.”

Taehyung dropped the cutesy act and teasingly scowled at him before walking back over to the sofa to grab his phone. He just jokingly whined “You can be so mean, hyung” and was gone out the door before anyone could reply anything.

Once the door shut closed, Jin’s full attention suddenly was on me, and I grew a little nervous. He wouldn’t let anything slide and took his role as a doctor and a hyung very seriously, especially since he was the only one who was older than me and thus had a little bit of authority over my stubborn ass. I knew that Jin and Namjoon often consulted each other on how to approach me, Joon would oftentimes notice something and immediately snitch to Jin cause he knew Jin was the only one I allowed to care for me in such a capacity. It wasn’t unusual that Namjoon would raise a concern about my health, and I would tell him it’s nothing, only to have Jin coming to my house later that day, fully informed and prepared to deal with it (and me).

“How’s your migraines been?” Jin decided to play it safe at first, dancing around what he actually wanted to ask.

“Shit,” I replied dryly and squinted my eyes at him. He looked at me with worry and I sighed. “It’s been getting better,” I begrudgingly told him, and he gave me a look a parent gives their annoying child.

“You need to rest more,” Jin started, and I groaned. Once he got into full parent mode and began nagging, nothing could stop him. Poor Kookie had to listen to a 30-minute-long lecture about the risks of smoking every time he only looked in a direction of a cigarette pack, which then almost every time moved on to us for being bad influence on him. Especially Namjoon who was basically glued to a cigarette. I have over the years got out of the habit and now mostly smoked only occasionally, much to Jin’s content.

“I know, I know,” I stopped him and started imitating him, “I need to sleep more and eat better and drink less alcohol, work less and have other hobbies other than hanging out around bars.” Jin gave me an unimpressed look and pursed his lips.

“So sorry for caring for your measly pathetic life, Mr. Bossman,” he retorted sassily and went to sit down on the sofa. Then he pierced me with his eyes again and I knew there was no running from this.

“So what’s all this about?” he asked and I started speaking basically even before he finished. “Nothing.” Jin raised his eyebrow and relaxed into the couch. “Really now?”

“Yes, no matter what Kookie says, I know what I’m doing,” I said resolutely and gave Jin a look that made it clear we would not be speaking on this matter anymore. That softened the man a little and he relented.

“Okay then,” he said softly and smiled at me, “I trust you, Yoongi. I’m just trying to make sure you’re all safe. I would be a fool not to worry about the police.” While I accepted it was a slight dig at my approach to this, I also knew it was the closest I would get to Jin conceding and leaving this subject behind. I smiled at him with all the charm and charisma I could muster, and he just scoffed at me and busied himself with his own mug of tea.

Though I was also a little surprised, just as Taehyung, at the sudden absence of detective Lee. She was everywhere for a whole week and then just suddenly disappeared, but I was anticipating some sort of new plan was abrewing on her part. I supposed it wouldn’t take too long.

“What do you mean they’re messing with the docks?” I growled into the phone and stomped the cigarette butt into the ground. Namjoon next to me tensed up and also put down his cig only to immediately light up a new one. Hobi on the other side of the phone sighed and apologized.

“It seems that when we stormed them last month some little creative critters managed to slip by us,” the man explained over phone, “They’ve been sabotaging in the docks, stealing cargo and ganging up on some workers here and there, but we’ve got them now. Gonna deal with it tonight.” I scoffed, mildly annoyed but not wanting to take it out on him. Still, I couldn’t stop a little petty remark.

“Funny, I think I already heard that from you once,” I said gruffly and looked over the street to where Jungkook’s car just pulled up. Namjoon waved at me, gestured towards the young man and then set out to welcome him and bring him up to my office.

“I know, hyung, I’m sorry for messing up the first time,” Hobi said with genuine remorse, and I felt like I was inside a one huge déjà vu as he sounded the same as Jimin when he apologised for causing this whole ordeal in the first place. I sighed and softened my voice. After all, this was just a bad month, I knew their abilities.

“It’s fine, I’m just annoyed with how persistent they’re becoming,” I explained to him and also slowly moved towards the office entrance, “who would have thought that they would be this hard to deal with?” Hobi laughed and I heard some shuffling noises from his side, slight murmuring and then a bang of a door.

“It’s good we’ve dealt with them now; they were on a good way to becoming unbelievable menaces. Thank god they trusted themselves enough to mess with us this early while still unprepared for the retaliation, or I bet we’d spend weeks slowly eradicating them like annoying pests.” I laughed at Hobi’s words and nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“Hubris has a funny way of catching up to you,” I mused quietly, Hobi only humming and then suddenly exclaiming loudly.

“Oh! That’s right!” he shouted out suddenly making me flinch a little. “Christ, Hobi,” I grumbled, “You’re going to make me embarrass myself. What’s up?” The man laughed a little and continued.

“Kookie’s on his way with some very interesting footage you’ll want to see,” the man said mysteriously with a happy lilt to his voice, “We found it when checking the security cameras for the little fuckers messing with our cargo.” I hummed, secretly smiling at the younger man’s antics while waiting for the damn elevator to come to the ground floor.

“He just got here, he’s with Namjoon upstairs. I’m on my way up too,” I told him and finally stepped into the elevator.

“Oh, I better go then,” the man laughed, “I have my plate full here anyway.” With that he hung up and I spent the rest of the ride up building anticipation on what Jungkook wanted to show me.

Upon walking into the office, I found Jungkook already showing something to a smirking Namjoon sitting in my chair. I regarded them both with slight suspicion and then wordlessly made my way to stand next to Jungkook. He immediately put the tablet away and I frowned. He was just about to open his mouth to explain to me, but I beat him to it.

“Hobi already told me you found something on the CCTV, so you can just show me,” I told him gruffly and motioned for him to put the tablet back on the table. He did. With a few quick swipes of his tatted fingers, he presented to me a video. I squinted my eyes at a it a little bit cause it was so dark and hard to see, automatically leaning forward towards the tablet.

It was a view from one of the side alleys by the warehouse we’ve been having troubles with. I was well acquainted with this camera, it was so nicely installed it became practically invisible to anyone who already didn’t know it was there, thus over the years it procured us some very useful evidence. For a moment there was no movement, just a dark alleyway in one of the seedier parts of this city, but then a figure appeared out of the shadows. They were dressed in all black and were slowly slinking by the wall with their eyes trained on something in front of them. We watched it for a few seconds and then the figure turned around and left.

I was just about to question Jungkook, when the man swiped and an enhanced picture of the figure filled the screen. I leaned towards it for a moment and then laughed. It was detective Lee. The picture was grainy and dark, it was quite hard to see, but that was unmistakenly the rookie cop sniffing around.

“The warehouses? What is she doing in the docks?” I speculated out loud.

“I don’t know but I don’t like her sniffing around there,” Jungkook said resolutely, “She’s probably looking for evidence.” I hummed thoughtfully.

“Well, she would have to break into the offices and decode the documents, which would be highly illegal and inadmissible in court, so I doubt she would do that,” I retorted and finally pushed Namjoon out of my chair to sit down, “She’s most likely looking for something specific.” Namjoon leaned over the table and gave us a mischievous smile.

“Or someone specific,” he pointed out. We both looked at him and pondered over it. “She could be just getting the hang of our locations,” Jungkook mused, “I think it’s more probable she just wants to be familiar with the places that we own. Or she thinks we’re just doing illegal shit out in the daylight like a bunch of idiots.” I laughed at that, but the first part of the statement was definitely possible.

“We have to wait for a little more,” I told them both, “She’ll reveal her cards soon.” Jungkook gave me a look but said nothing. Namjoon was just watching us with a smile. I knew the younger man was getting antsy because he cared about my safety and this detective was getting closer than the others. But that was also her weakness – to get more info she abandoned the law, so while yes, she was more determined to find out, but also she was making herself more unreliable to the force and in the eyes of the court. It was a slippery slope for her.

The situation would need some supervision, for sure, but in the end we had the upper hand cause we could report her anytime and cost her the position in the force. I hummed again and smirked.

“We’ll deal with this shortly, don’t worry,” I attempted to soothe the man, “Right now we have to focus on the fiasco with these dealers.” At the change of subject both of the men perked up.

“Do you know anything about how Hobi-hyung wants to go about this?” Namjoon asked Jungkook. They were both standing at the opposite sides of my table looking at each other. Kookie deliberated a little before saying: “He didn’t say much, just that they’re doing it tomorrow. He’s pretty pissed they managed to dodge him, so he’s most probably not gonna be very nice.” To that both me and Namjoon laughed.

“Good,” I said, “They’ve been pissing me off too. Who would have known they would be such pests.”

All three of us shared a look. “Fucking cheers to that,” Jungkook said, and we moved on.

The next day I had gotten a single text from Hobi that sounded very similar to what he texted me last time he went after them. The plan was to surprise them during lunch, storm them quick and blindside them. Ideally it would be over before they ever realised something had hit them. And as someone who had seen Hobi in action before, I knew he was absolutely capable of that.

I was just smoking outside with Namjoon, who was making fun of me that I had gotten back into my habit the whole time he was attempting to light my cigarette, when I got another text.

Hope, 14:49: done

I smiled to myself and patted Joon’s shoulder. He gave me a confused look that melted into satisfied realisation when I winked happily.

Me, 14:51: are you absolutely sure? no more surprises?

Hope, 14:52: no more surprises. i’ll be over in twenty

I pocketed my phone again and stubbed out the cig, lightly slapped Joon’s shoulder again and moved to go back inside. The man followed after me without a word or a question, only gave me a celebratory smile when getting off the elevator a floor beneath my office.

I waited gingerly for the man’s arrival, drinks ready for us and words of gratitude on my tongue. Faithful to his word, he got there in twenty minutes on the dot, bursting into my door with a wide smile, no doubt also happy he managed to teach a lesson to some pesky kids messing about with things way beyond their capabilities.

I clasped a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, I left no loose ends this time,” was the first thing he said, “though I wish I had more time for clean up, but the cops were called. They’re most probably already there.”

“As long as there’s nothing linking us to them, it’s okay,” I reassured him and pulled us both to the sofa. He shook his head at that.

I trusted Hobi, I knew he was damn good at his job. He was always so excellent at making everything that was causing me headaches disappear, and I felt endless gratitude to the man. For a moment we both just sat there in comfortable silence and sipped our drinks.

I took another swig of whiskey and winced. “Jin would kill me if he saw me right now,” I muttered and Hobi laughed. “It’s for celebration, I’m sure he would understand,” the man joked, knowing full well how obsessed the doctor was with making us all live healthily, even when we all knew it was a losing battle. I snickered again and relaxed into the sofa.

“If the cops are there right now, that means they’ll probably show up here by the evening or early tomorrow,” I mused out loud, already too familiar with their strategies. Hobi agreed with me, but I could see that he was thinking about something else.

“What’s up?” I asked gently. Hobi looked at me and hesitated a little. “I might have to go to Japan for a little bit,” he said eventually. I looked at him in surprise.

“Japan? Why?”

The man reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. One of the corners was painted with a splatter of blood and the paper was all tired and frayed from whatever it went through.

“He was really trying to make sure I wouldn’t read this, so I made extra sure to get it,” Hobi explained, looking at me observantly and carefully continuing, “And for good reason. I’m sure you yourself recognise this.” He handed me the paper and I slowly unfolded it to not do any more damage to it.

I did recognise it and immediately felt a rush of cold rage hit my bloodstream. Before me, there was a formal invitation to meet with the Watanabe family, one of the smaller suppliers from Japan. They weren’t the ones that we were doing the most business with, but we had a mutual trust to keep out of each other’s way, occasionally help each other out and otherwise not cross each other’s paths.

Whether they knew what these little fucks were planning or not, it seems that a connection between them was established. And as such, I couldn’t let it slide. Especially since the dead rat wanted to keep it secret so bad. There must have been something going on.

For the Watanabes it would be beneficial to try and get us out of the way, since we were blocking their way to most of Seoul, but I couldn’t believe they were this fucking stupid.

“That explains a lot,” I said, reverting back to my business self, “and here I was, thinking we were cordial with each other.” Hobi hummed. I looked at him and let him feel the full force of my anger with the behaviour of our supposed allies.

“Let them know just how disappointed I am with them for me, please,” I told him, voice full of ice. This wasn’t a playground, we weren’t kids messing about in the sandbox. We had to act quickly, before someone got the idea that they could cross our path.

The conversation was a little stunted after that, both of us thinking about the implications of an alliance between these two; so once Hobi finished his drink, he moved to leave, finally deciding it’s time to get back to his boys and make sure everything’s going off without a hitch now. He turned around, mouth opening to tell me one last thing, when he opened the door and promptly bumped into someone. I stood up from the chair, worried for a moment, only to grin wide when I realised who it was.

Hobi had managed to catch the nosy detective before she fell, and I had the best view in the house for when she looked up and realised who was it that she slammed into at my office. As every time, her face was an open book there for everyone to read and I saw it go from apologetic to absolute mortification to some sort of astounded glee. I watched her like a hawk while she stared at Hobi and the wheels in my brain were turning full speed. Huh, could it be?

Even when she snapped out of it and Hobi started to tease her, her eyes remained glued to the man with clarity and determination. If I was a jealous man, I may have even gotten a little angry at the display of open interest, I thought to myself jokingly while I watched them amused. So this was her goal, huh? She was after Hoseok. It did make sense, he would be someone the police found interesting, but he also had considerable experience at dodging them.

Once Hobi left and I could see her gearing up to bullshit me to the max, clearly totally out of her depth here, I decided to test my theory a little bit. But I would need help with that. I gave her a little bait and only waited for her to bite. She did. She didn’t even ask how I knew about what was happening in the docks, just started scrambling to explain herself somehow. I pulled out my phone again and texted the one man I knew could accomplish this.

Me, 16:29: how fast can you get here? need a distractor asap

TaeTae, 16:29: be there in 15 hyung <3

I chuckled a little at his fast reply, but quickly got up to move towards the bar. I had to distract her well and leave her distracted enough to slip a little bug on her. I weaved my web, pulled her in different directions, and I lied.

“We had nothing to do with it,” I said, though I had ordered the strike as retribution. But some things she wasn’t prepared to hear upfront, with some honesty I would have to wait until she was too deep to be appalled by the reality.

Taehyung burst into the room just as he always did, in the perfect way to steal all the attention. Her head snapped to the door with panic, and I seized my opportunity. I moved behind my table and fished around in the first drawer for the small device. I checked on Taehyung who was doing his best magician act, though by definition he would be more of my beautiful young assistant tasked with distracting the crowd while I faked the magic trick. It took only a second for my skilled fingers to slip the tracker beneath her phone case and by the moment she looked at me in horror at Taehyung’s behaviour, I was already sitting on the side of the guest chair satisfied with myself and watching the man work.

I couldn’t help the pleased hum when she grabbed her phone and flustered stumbled out of the door.

The moment the door closed behind her Tae looked at me curiously. “What was that about?” he asked full of mischievous keenness. I shrugged and smiled at him mysteriously. “Just trying to prove a theory of mine,” I uttered nonchalantly and thoroughly enjoyed the eager interest of the younger man.

“That was a tracker, wasn’t it?” he asked again, ever so observant. I gave him another grin. His curious eyes never missed anything, they always flitted around wherever he was, taking in people’s actions and expressions, that’s why he was my favourite spy. People didn’t take him much seriously, they didn’t see him as threat and he knew how to take advantage of it perfectly and bring every little dirty secret right to me.

“Hmmm, we’ll speed up the process a little bit and Kookie will hopefully relax now,” I told him. He hummed too and got up to get himself another drink.

“Guess we’ll see.”

Maybe we were having a little too much fun pretending like we didn’t know she was tailing us. How do you school your face while talking when you know that a cop is sitting 10 metres away from you? Though we did agree that we like the upgraded look with the motorcycle, so I guess that’s what she was up to the whole time we didn’t see her following us.

It would be a little better had Hoseok been in the country, but we had to entertain ourselves while he dealt with the traitors. I hadn’t heard from him really for around two or three days, which surprisingly was a good thing. It meant he was too busy solving problems to reply. In the end Jin decided to go with him and I had absolute confidence that they would deal with it no matter what that entailed.

I heard Jungkook lightly complain that she’d gotten craftier and how he often had to drive around to lose her to be able to go about his day peacefully. She did go after Namjoon for a little bit and then promptly gave up, which didn’t surprise me as he only spent time home or in the office, she did try to follow Jungkook, but he never gave her a chance. Tae and Jimin didn’t seem to be her targets in the slightest, much to Taehyung’s displeasure, who grumbled about how he’s also interesting. So she mostly stuck with me. But I was patiently waiting for Hobi to return and see.

The moment Hoseok and Jin stepped foot into the country, I warned him to not show up around for a while. He was very confused, but when I said it’s related to the police, he obliged happily, though we had to meet up to discuss his trip to Japan and its conclusion. One day when her little red dot didn’t move from the station, I called him over.

I had to go to the Magic Shop, which was one of the newer clubs Tae was trying to transform into a popular spot, and Jimin came over too. He was still trying to “sweeten my rage”, in his words, which I no longer felt but didn’t tell him. I’d never admit it, but I quite liked the way he was trying to be so damn cute and play up how much he loves me, though I was pretty sure he knew and that’s why he hasn’t stopped yet. I was just laughing at the two younger men’s antics when Jungkook’s car pulled over to the club and the two newcomers jumped out.

“Hyung!” Jimin shouted out, “You’re finally back!” Hobi laughed and threw himself at the blond, tackling him into an aggressive hug, both of them giggling. Tae couldn’t stay still and joined them, with me and Jungkook watching them fondly with smiles on our faces.

“Okay, okay!” I talked over the commotion and pulled them apart, “Unfortunately I have to steal him away for a bit, you can have him later.” The youngsters pouted at me, but it was all in jokes. But when I looked over at Hobi, he had a guilty expression on his face. I sighed a little and smiled at him.

“Sorry hyung, I actually have to go check on the warehouses in Songhyeon-dong, the boys have been asking for me,” he explained and gave an apologetic smile, “You can come too, though. If you have time.” I pursed my lips and thought about it, but I already knew I couldn’t make it.

“It’s across the whole city, unfortunately it’s not convenient for me today,” I told him. We needed to debrief properly; it would be best if Jin was present too, but the man was hard to come by during the weekdays due to his clinic. Every rich person in whole of Seoul wanted him to attend to them and he usually ran from patient to patient, while Hobi was the number one contact for those who worked in or around the warehouses and thus found himself driving around Seoul just solving shit that went wrong. If he couldn’t wait here to have a conversation, it must have been pretty serious there. He was looking at me stressed, most probably trying to think of a way to make it work for everyone, but I patted his shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Hobi,” I assured him, “I’ll visit you tomorrow or the day after. I’ll bring Jin too.” He returned my smile and moved back to Jungkook’s car.

“Wait, Hobi-hyung!” Jimin shouted out again, “I drove here with the silver Porsche, you can take it cause Tae’s gonna drive me back.” The blond-haired man fished around in the pockets for a moment and then threw something small and black towards Hoseok, who caught it without problem with a cheeky wink and a smile.

He was gone in a minute, and I soon followed with Jungkook. In the end Jimin took my car and I asked Kookie to drive me to the office, since he was going to stay there with me and Joon anyway. I kept thinking back to the Japan issue, wondering what the boys found out and what the Watanabes tried to claim. And whether we should prepare to burn some bridges.

The next day, though, started in a somewhat peculiar manner. When I came out in the morning and got into the car, Jungkook was sitting next to Soobin with a sombre expression. I immediately straightened and prepared to hear whatever it was that went wrong in those few short hours I was gone.

“I messed up hyung,” he said sheepishly and handed over his phone. The little tracking red dot wasn’t in its usual spot, by my house or by one of the clubs, not even by the office or the station. It was in Songhyeon-dong. Right across from our warehouses. I laughed and Jungkook looked at me nervously.

“Where’s Hoseok right now?” I asked immediately and the younger man snapped into attention.

“He’s in there right now, got in about 7 o’clock, was talking about some papers that have been waiting for him to approve,” Kookie answered, mind back on business and unpleasant feelings left behind to focus on this fully. I grinned at the man wildly. “Perfect.”

I swiftly pulled out my phone and started writing a simple and quick message.

Me, 8:15: stay in the warehouse, don’t walk out at all

Hope, 8:17: what do you mean hyung? are we in danger?

Me, 8:17: no, don’t worry. our little spy is on you and i’m trying to prove something

“Do you want to go to Dynamite today, or are we expected at the hotel?” Soobin’s voice pulled me away from my phone, back to a nervous Jungkook sitting next to the unsure bodyguard. “The hotel, thank you Soobin,” I answered politely with a mild smile and redirected my attention back to Jungkook.

“Don’t worry Kookie, I’m not mad,” I said with a smile, “This is actually exactly what I wanted, just hoped that I would have more time and control over when she found him. Guess she must have been on us yesterday.” The young man stiffened and looked back to his phone.

“Do you think she’s aware of the tracker? Left it at the station purposely to mess with us?” he asked all business-like, probably already trying to come up with a new plan. “It’s possible,” I hummed, “It’s time to find out.”

Silence took over the car as we made our way through the city. I smiled to myself. Even though it happened a little faster than I was planning, but I was glad she was still going in the direction I had predicted. I look away for a moment and you leave for one of my friends, huh? You definitely work fast.

I laughed again, earning a strange look from the two younger men, but only gave them a mysterious wink. We might be able to deal with this shortly, if everything goes well. The key was to find out what the goal was, then I could control what she found and make sure she’d stay away from what we needed to hide.

“Let’s give her a few days,” I told them and gave them another grin.

Me, 8:25: how would you feel about going to the warehouse every day and just staying there?

Hope, 8:26: ???

Four days later I sat into my car and instructed Soobin to drive to the warehouse with a shit-eating grin. Jungkook had been keeping me updated on her movements and she spent her days either at the station or staking out in the building across the premises.

Hobi, as promised, had been going to the warehouse and just sitting on his ass there, thoroughly complaining through his phone the whole time. I had been trying to calm him down and keep him there, while Joon and Kookie took it upon themselves to tease him all the time with pics and cheeky texts about eating in restaurants and hanging out in clubs together, so he was slowly losing his patience with my plan. I had to move forward quickly for the benefit of us all, even though I did find it awfully funny.

Reaching our destination, I took the time to walk around very self-assuredly for a moment knowing she was watching this angle. When I tired of putting on a show of how free and relaxed I was this day, I finally made my way inside. Through the door you entered straight to the short hall which led to our office, so it was a relatively short and quiet trip.

Hoseok and Jungkook were already sitting inside, Hobi behind the table and the maknae occupying an armchair sitting a little more towards a corner to the left of the door. With the sound of the door opening, their heads snapped towards me and as soon as they saw my smug smirk, Hoseok groaned loudly.

“God, please tell me this is over!” he whined and dramatically draped himself over the surface of the table, “I can’t take another day of this! I’m going to fucking lose my mind here!” Jungkook chuckled at him and retorted with a slight smirk: “You should have treated this as a holiday or something. Watched Netlix and all that stuff.” To that Hobi screamed out loud and grabbed something on his table to throw at the now laughing Kookie. “Yah! You think I have time to burn? I’ve got shit to do!”

I snickered at them and moved inside, Soobin following me in. I gestured at Jungkook. “Did you bring the cup as I asked?” The man nodded at me. I smiled, as relaxed as I haven’t been in a long time, and sat down on a chair by the table. Soobin remained standing by the door so I gestured at him to also sit somewhere, as this would take a while.

“So what’s next in your amazing and genius plan that involves the literal torture of your beloved dongsaeng?” He asked, suddenly pretending to be all business-like and serious, while Jungkook still occasionally giggled in his spot to our left.

“Now we talk for a bit, draw it out a little,” I said smirking meanly, “Then we send in Soobin and wait what he brings back.”

“It’s pretty cold outside, hope she’s dressed for the occasion,” Hobi noted cheekily and relaxed into his chair. I hummed and schooled my expression. I did have to bring up Japan, we haven’t had a chance to talk about it properly yet and I couldn’t visit him sooner cause we were planning what to do about our little spy.

“I don’t think she knows about the tracker,” Jungkook mused out loud, “she keeps bringing it. I don’t think it’s a statement like ‘look where I am’, it wouldn’t make sense to let us know.” Hobi nodded, humming in agreement, and they carried on for a moment, the conversation heading to the clubs as Hoseok asked about how it went while he was gone. I let them speak for a little while, just enjoying the company, until their chattering died off and they both looked at me questioningly.

“We have to talk about Japan,” I said simply, not feeling the need to beat around the bush. Hoseok immediately sobered up and straightened in his chair, while Jungkook looked on curiously, no doubt also dying to know the situation in which we found ourselves in.

“Well, they claimed innocence,” the dark-haired man said sombrely, “I’ve heard bullshit enough time in my life to smell it a mile away, but there wasn’t anything I could really pin on them. I checked the dates of their stay, and it was relatively recently, there wasn’t much correspondence between them, that I found. And we did thrash the dealers’ hiding spots. They must have gotten rid of it. But the head of the Watanabe family is such a slimy motherfucker that I don’t believe a word he said. They surely must have been planning something together.” He shrugged and sat back. “I’m afraid right now we can’t do much about it unless we want to seem like vicious usurpers.” Jungkook leaned forward and looked at us thoughtfully.

“Japan is outside of our turf, if we did something rash without substantial evidence, we could risk losing the support of the Satos,” he contemplated out loud, “God knows what’s going on between them right now.” I hummed and nodded, smiling at the man satisfied. He really did grow up, god. Time flies so fast.

“There seem to be two main issues right now,” I surmised solemnly, “First, the Watanabes are small and cowardly. The reason why they’re where they are is because they just suck up to others and hug their thighs to drain all the benefits from them. If they stirred up trouble with someone, they would no doubt end up eradicated before sundown.” The men looked at me with similar serious expressions. I took a moment to get myself a glass of water and continued talking standing up by the office desk.

“So, what gave them the confidence to get involved with an effort against us?” I mused thoughtfully, “There is a chance that they couldn’t have known that their new friends would immediately go and cross us and get themselves all killed, but I trust Hobi’s instinct. The fucking clown that leads the family now is a sleazy bastard, one with an ego that doesn’t match his wit nor his guts. He loves to gloat and provoke, but only when he knows someone stronger’s got his back.” Hobi nodded. He knew the man well since he had the displeasure of meeting him a few times when we were in Japan and had to attend a few of the same events as he did.

“If he knew he was at risk, he would have met me already grovelling,” Hoseok muttered with distaste, his immense disdain towards the man showing through, “that’s the kind of a pathetic vermin he is.” I agreed with him and carried on.

“So that means he probably feels comfortable timidly opposing us, cause there’s someone that’s got his back,” I concluded, “Someone who’s probably on our side of the puddle, someone who probably hooked him up with the rats we just got rid of. They probably weren’t expecting them to go against us immediately and die, but they don’t feel intimidated by the fact that we suspect something.”

The room sunk into silence as we all pondered about it. I could be looking too much into it, but in this world one never knew. You couldn’t survive here by assuming everyone’s best intentions. Quite the opposite. The little shits feeling confident enough to swindle us, them trying to desperately hide the invitation before they lose the chance to, the Watanabe’s approach to a meeting with Hobi. It wasn’t much to go off of, but it was suspicious enough to keep track of and keep in mind. If there potentially was a beginning of a plot against us, we had to stay alert and monitor the situation before it spun out of control.

“The confidence means their alliance is already pretty sure, then,” Jungkook broke the silence and took turns looking at us both. I gave him a single jerky nod in return. “Probably. Who knows.”

“What’s the second issue?” Hobi suddenly asked. Kookie looked at me questioningly and his face suddenly looked so much younger with his eyes wide, it almost shocked me speechless.

“The Japanese families,” I shook off my surprise and continued, “If we do decide to make take some precautions, we need to properly communicate so with the Satos and get their support. They need to be in full agreement with whatever we choose to do with the Watanabe clan.” Hobi scoffed and turned to me.

“That shouldn’t be too hard. They’re not that influential and going against us means they’re going against the Satos too.”

“Still,” I repeated, “We need to test their alliance to us too.” A realisation hit Jungkook’s face and he nodded enthusiastically. That made me laugh a little at his earnestness. Hobi also smiled, but it was still strained.

“Let’s bide our time for now,” my voice carried through the office resolutely, “Lay low, pretend we’re over this issue and gather our wits. And prepare for potentially dealing with this.”

We nodded at each other. Even if years have passed since our youth and the fire and passion and determination that comes with it, we were still prepared to fight for what was rightfully ours. We climbed our way here through hell and there’s no way we’d let some snotty little brats try to take everything away from us.

“I’ll keep my eyes and ears out,” Kookie stated, phone in hand ready, “They’re bound to come across something juicy.” Hobi murmured his approval and turned his attention back to me.

“Today we should deal with the other issue at hand, or I am actually going to go insane between these four walls,” he complained whinily and I laughed at him. I moved towards the little kitchenette in the right corner from the door and started preparing some coffee. I made a cup for all present and then one extra into the cup Kookie brought with him, which I promptly handed to Soobin.

“My boys scoped it out and she seems to have her hideout on the sixth floor to the left of the staircase,” Hobi instructed the young man, who patiently waited on me to send him off.

“Tell her something that will piss her off,” I said only, grinning wildly. The blond man smirked at me and disappeared out of the room swiftly and silently.

“Now we wait,” I told the room, sitting gingerly back into the chair with my fresh cup of coffee, playing with the spoon like a spoiled little kid waiting for his birthday present. We all stayed silent, too much on our minds to keep mindless convo. Kookie was typing furiously on his phone, a slight scowl sometimes tugging at his features, while Hobi relaxed into the chair and serenely looked off into the distance. I tried to keep the self-satisfied smirk on my face while my mind slipped to more serious issues.

I couldn’t help but be worried about the current situation. Their potential ties to a stronger gang, or maybe even a family, would explain the surprising difficulty with which they went down. I knew I stepped on many toes when I stole half the fucking Seoul right from under their noses, and even more when I proved impossible to dethrone. It didn’t surprise me at all to uncover a supposed scheme like this. Truly, this didn’t even have to necessarily be aimed against me and my gang, but the boys fucked up by involving us in their business. But no matter what, we would emerge victorious from this, that I had no doubt about. Once someone crossed a line, we would make an example of them and teach a lesson to whoever it was that wanted to mess with us.

Over the years in this “business”, I had learnt a lot. One of the things was: what couldn’t be solved with threats, would be solved with blood. And it never failed me before. I looked at Hobi and Kookie again and smiled. We had each other’s backs and I trusted their abilities more than I trusted myself. The truth was that we were more a family than many around us that were actually blood related. That was the second reason of our success.

Soobin returned within 15 minutes, of which he probably spent most time going up and down the stairs. He walked back into the office slightly breathless and a little red, so I gestured for the single cup of coffee left on the mini kitchen counter. He walked over and took a tentative sip, probably finding it the perfect temperature since it’s been waiting for him here and slowly cooling down.

We all found ourselves hanging onto him with our eyes, some excitement coursing through the room at what he was about to divulge to us. Kookie broke first.

“How did she react to you?” he asked eagerly, waiting to confirm his theory about the tracker.

“She was shocked and surprised, and frankly pissed off,” Soobin answered immediately, his deep voice having a calming effect on us, “She didn’t seem to understand how you were able to find her.”

Jungkook exclaimed happily. “Perfect, that means she doesn’t know about the tracker,” he said satisfied. I was about to destroy his whole joy though, so I let him bask in it a little before speaking.

“We’re gonna mess with her a little, make it obvious,” I told the room and Kookie immediately groaned. “Hyung, having her tracked without her knowledge is the safest way to let her be but still have control over the situation. Why would you want to give that up?” I winked at him and pursed my lips teasingly.

“To provoke her. Rile her up, frustrate her, push her to her limits,” I explained, eyes flitting between the three men, “She’ll reveal herself then.” Kookie hummed in understanding, but Hobi squinted his eyes at me somewhat suspicious. I quickly averted his eyes and focused back onto Soobin.

“What else did she say?” I asked him. The man immediately snapped to attention at me addressing him and answered. “That you’re annoying and she hates you.” His voice was neutral, but I could detect some undertones of amusement. I agreed it must have been an amusing sight.

I laughed lightly and finished my coffee in one gulp. The game was on.

Now that Hoseok was free of his prison, he went back to flitting between the docks and ships like a mother bird trying to take care of all of her young. Jin was similarly busy by his practice, so he also missed out on all of the fun. Namjoon kept saying he was above messing with the police, even though I caught him sneaking smirks and grins every now and then, and Kookie was just as disapproving as ever of my tactics. Jimin tried to stay neutral as he hadn’t met her yet, but thoroughly enjoyed our shenanigans.

That left me and Tae on the shit-stirrer team, and we did milk it for as long as we could. Just the ultimate annoyances, hoping to send her into a complete rage over this. She still had the tracker regularly on her, so we were forced to assume she was none the wiser, but the longer it dragged on the more suspicious I was becoming.

Once she started showing up to the office regularly, cheshire grin firmly plastered on her face, tracker still firmly attached to her, I pretty much guessed she must have known. Suddenly I was spending my afternoons making her tea and watching her leisurely stroll about my office, studying every inch of it and grinning from ear to ear. I waited patiently for her next move, and admittedly, I found myself quite excited with this game we were playing with each other. She was a fast learner and had a quick wit, and I did appreciate her readiness to throw all laws aside to try to stick it to a guy that mildly annoyed her once. The anticipation was steadily rising the longer we just danced around and pretended we both knew nothing.

I did start to slip. I watched her move about less, focused more on work. I would always suddenly shake myself out of the work-induced haze to find her still sitting at the sofa curiously eying everything in the office like a little kid first time in an amusement park. But while we were in this strange stale-mate, I didn’t dare refuse her visits. I was truly curious, dying to know her next move, especially since she suddenly became such a showman.

I didn’t immediately realise what was happening when she suddenly stopped showing up. One day she was sitting there, smirking up a storm, and the next there was no trace of her. I found myself walking around my office, inspecting the objects at display and the decorations, trying to catch anything different. I even allowed Jungkook to thoroughly comb through the room to make sure there weren’t any planted bugs or things in the same vein, but the space was clean.

We kept checking on the tracker app, but it became quite obvious immediately she had gotten rid of it, as it was moving in areas that she never went to. So she did know. And she did do something.

It wasn’t until two days later, when Jungkook stormed my house and decided to comb through my clothes with a device detector; and found a corner of my coat beeping curiously. I had to stop him from tearing into it in his haste to find out what she planted on me, and instead took it upon myself to inspect the piece of clothing. I managed to find a small tear and smirked at her craftsmanship. I fished the little gadget out and handed it over to the younger man.

Jin and Hobi were sitting on the couch watching this whole ordeal go down with curious, slightly amused and mildly alarmed faces, but I wasn’t too worried about it. Jungkook was grumbling something next to me, but I paid him no mind. My fingers felt something else slipped into the coat and I was trying to get a hold of it. By its thinness and elusiveness, it must have been a piece of paper.

“It’s a tracker, similar to what we planted on her,” I heard him explaining it to the other men present, but suddenly exclaimed in victory, startling the three men, as I finally managed to pull the mysterious note out. I took a single look at it and burst out laughing.

They snapped their eyes to me and Jungkook immediately rushed to my side as if prepared to defend my life against a piece of paper. I lifted my gaze to look at their confused faces and flipped the paper around for them to see.

fuck you min yoongi :p

Only Hobi seemed to be as amused by it as I was, Jungkook deliberating something silently and Jin watching us all like a hawk, his sharp eyes taking in the interaction with burning interest.

Once I had calmed down and sent Kookie off to the office to get Joon and figure out what to do about the little device, I found myself sitting between the two other oldest of the group, amusement slowly slipping into nervosity. I knew them well enough, I could see the cogs turning in their heads, I could feel they were on the doorstep of a discovery, and I wouldn’t like the conversation that would follow, but I truly didn’t expect Jin to just jump into it head first.

I had leaned towards the table to grab one of the snacks Jin had graciously prepared for us, when he cleared his throat.

“Kookie had been talking to me a lot about how this whole situation is unfolding. Hobi too,” Jin said, seemingly just holding mindless conversation, but I still tensed up. I turned to look at him.

“Yeah?” I turned to the other side to look at Hobi, who avoided my eyes.

“Yeah,” Jin reiterated, his voice gravelly, “So can you fucking explain to me why have you been testing this cop like you did the boys before they joined?”

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itsallpoliticsstupid · 27 days ago

Text

Thinking about something different today, and that is the Neil Gaiman allegations.

I remember when there were first murmurings about the allegations through Tortoise media and people refused to believe it. Claiming it was a hit on him because he was progressive; an ally for the Trans community and they were a TERF organisation.

Basically, people were playing down the allegations because they couldn't believe their favorite author could do such a thing, and blaming the women who came forward to share their stories as misunderstanding their relationship.

Even now, I am seeing some media outlets and people act like this is just a case of kink shaming, rather than actual detailed accounts of abuse of power.

But this is the problem with society. The inherent belief we know these people we idolize because we are a fan of their art, and could never see them as monsters. Wanting to have 'proof' that they are who these women say they are.

Some claim 'proof' is them being found guilty in a court of law. But when it is so difficult to get a conviction against sexual offences, and so many women don't have the courage to come forward because they fear the police won't take their claims seriously, it's a ridiculously high bar to have as proof.

The proof in this case should be that 14 different women who didn't know him all have stories about his sexual abuse.

We should be believing these women, and not the people who mask who they are to try and get fans to like them and sell their work.

Don't get me wrong. I'm as guilty of it as others. Believing that somebody I look up to can't be the person others are claiming all because they were nice to me once. But the reality is, we don't know these people. We don't know what they're like in the background. It's only those who have been close to them in their most intimate moments that know the truth about them.

We need to start disentangling our illusions about who these people are. We don't know them. And we must stop acting like we do.

#neil gaiman #good omens #tw abuse #tortoise media #assault allegations #abuse allegations #parasocial behavior #parasocial relationships

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motogp-museum · 7 months ago

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Joan Mir

Rider filtered by year

To find the rider's posts from a specific year, type their initials, rider number, a colon, a space, and then the year into the search bar. For example mm93: 2013 (there are a couple of people I haven't done this for, so check their main tag first)

Here are a few common ones :) (i would put them all but the link limit is humbling me)

Vale:

vr46: 2013

vr46: 2014

vr46: 2015

vr46: 2016

Dani:

dp26: 2011

dp26: 2012

dp26: 2013

dp26: 2014

dp26: 2015

Jorge L:

jl99: 2011

jl99: 2012

jl99: 2013

jl99: 2014

jl99: 2015

Marc:

mm93: 2012

mm93: 2013

mm93: 2014

mm93: 2015

mm93: 2016

Ships (romantic/ platonic/ familial)

Some of these are just people who are together a lot.

pedrenzo

rosquez

team tiny

vr26 riders academy

Jorge/Pecco

Marquez brothers

espargabros

Vale/Uccio

lucalex

dovquez

Organisation

moto2

moto3

Press Conference

bikes: year (eg. bikes: 2015)

the ranch

Format

type: gif

type: picture

type: writing

type: video

type: fanart

type: quote

Circuit

misano

motegi

mugello

assen

phillip island

san marino

argentina

brno

catalunya

portugal

cota

qatar

le mans

aragón

valencia

silverstone

sepang

laguna seca

indy

mandalika

chang

red bull ring

Circuit with year

You can also search by circuit: year (eg. catalunya: 2015). Just make sure you put a space after the colon. Unless the post said where it was though, I did not put a location tag.

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Intro:

(i'll just put it at the bottom so i remember to delete it)

I have been hoarding all of these (there are like 1000 more in my draft and queue lol) for a while now in my draft bc even tho they are like 3 note gifs, they are historical artefacts to meeee.

Anyway, I've got a cold, and so to occupy myself, I decided to just make a blog so that everything can be organised and easy (ish, this is tumblr after all) to find!

I know heaps of my fellow ✨motogp tumblrinas ✨have made archives for their favs, and you are all braver than me, bc I would lose all the gifs immediately if I tried to create new archival posts. So I just reblogged everything and am going to hope for the best in terms of copyright lol

But yeah, these aren't just my favs. This is more just a snapshot of the fandom at different periods. I only reblogged the deactivated ones, but, y'all, use the posts as little gateways to blogs from that time period, it is FACINATING.

As always, peer review is welcome! If i completely messed up a tag (very likely, since i used the mass tag editor), you're welcome to let me know. Also if there's a ship tag, fun tag or something you want me to add in the mass tag editor, lemme know! more than happy to add literally anything ✨✨

I only started this today, so it's very much a work in progress! All the things without a link are because the posts that match up with them are in the queue. I also need to add the ones i forgot

#there is an updated version of this in my pinned #motogp #tag navigation #it just made me sad seeing all of the gifs from 2012 just chilling on abandoned accounts with no tags #pack bonded to the deactivated posts #also the sociology minor in me LOVES lurking around old forums and blogs #like seeing how people reacted towards things and what was popular 15 years ago??? i'm sat i'm writing notes #also soooo devo that i can't yap on all of these posts bc it will mess up the tagging system :((#edit: it's been 2 days and i've started yapping on the posts but i think??? it should be fine #I mean I can just reblog the funny stuff on normal account and yap but still #repsol-ariel #motogpblr #motogp gifs

63 notes · View notes

siddyyyyyyyy · 4 months ago

Text

Join us, please?

X-Men fanfic

wc: 5.3 K summary: Charles tries to get you into his school warnings: platonic story! telekinesis!reader, reader has anxiety, stalking but it's not actual stalking, one swear word, use of weed a/n: it started out as a drabble idea, now I'm unsure if I'll ever continue writing for this. (this came out more as a crackfic) Have fun reading, I'd be happy for some feedback!!

Sitting at a bar on a saturday wasn‘t really something you do regurarly, but this is a special occasion. Or rather more of a pathetic attempt to run away from your problems and forget about everything that happened in the last two days. The bitter taste of your pint makes you scrunch up your face a little, but you soon get used to it, and are now trying to drain everything out. Maybe, if you wouldn‘t work at a shitty fast food restaurant and had a normal boss, you wouldn‘t be here. Maybe then, you wouldn‘t think your life is a mess and you wouldn‘t be sulking here by your own pitiful, depressed ass.

The pain in your palms isn‘t doing you any favours, especially since you feel weaker than usual today. You knew using your powers more frequently would lead up to you hurting, but it‘s not like you could neglect your teleknesis. You don‘t want to forget how it works, so you decided to try it out yesterday again. If only you would‘ve kept track of the time, you wouldn‘t be cooling your hands against the glass of beer at the moment.

Right as you are taking another sip, a young man sits beside you, wearing a warm smile on his face. Before you could say something or think more about this, he speaks up.

»Good evening, my name‘s Charles. All alone today?«

God, he speaks like a rich man. Is he a rich man? Maybe you can get rich tonight and finally quit your job.

»Uh, yeah. All alone.«

He keeps smiling lightly at you, a rather awkward silence falling over you both. Finally, your intoxicated brain catches up, realising you haven‘t introduced yourself yet. With a quick apology, you tell him your name and grow sheepish.

»It‘s alright, don‘t worry. I actually have some questions for you. Nothing sketchy, I promise.«

Whoever this man is, he‘s got some charm. But it works, and you‘re already listenening to him anyway. Come to notice, you have never seen this man before. Especially not in such a rowdy bar like this. He seems to be way too organised and polite for this.

After a small moment, he speaks up again, getting to his questions.

»Promise me not to freak out, but I know about your mutation. Your ability to move things around without actually touching them? Yes, so, we have that university in New York, people like you are trained there.«

Panic rises in your gut and you feel like this man is a danger for you. Of course, he expected that reaction, it‘s not the first time he confronted mutants to get them into his university. Before you could actually scream or get physical, he puts his hand up and continues to talk.

»I don‘t mean to harm you. Just help and get you a safe place. We will help you with your telekinesis.« Charles still seems calm and polite like before, seeing a hint of tension behind his expression. Whatever this is about, you are getting a hard time processing it. Now, come to think of it, he actually seems less patient. The way he worded it was polite and calm, but it‘s noticeable that he did this more often probably.

»No.«

Charles face drops at your blunt answer. But he has more ways to convince you.

»Darling, we offer excellent food and rooms to live in. It won‘t even cost you anything, we just want to make sure you‘re safe and learn to control your ability.«

»Yeah, that‘s what they all say. Charming me up at first and then offering me something unrealistic. Who even is ‚we‘?«

You scoff, downing the last few sips of your beer before setting it down and getting up to leave. Charles follows you quickly, making sure he doesn‘t look like a creep. He finds himself feeling stupid, of course someone would think that way when a strange man starts talking like that.

»By ‚we‘ I mean-«

»I don‘t want to hear it.«

You interrupt him, knowing better from studying ciminoligy for half a year by now. Second semester and all you can think about are the various ways of unknowingly getting into the hands of death. Or maybe your paranoia just got worse once you started uni, but that‘s beside the point.

Stomping out of the bar, the cold air hits you like a truck, immediately wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck and shoving your hands into your soft jacket. As if this isn‘t giving you an anxiety attack already, the man is following beside you, not letting up.

»Listen, we can talk about this.«

He tries again, putting his own coat as he falls in step with you. You, however, shake your head and keep your eyes forward.

»No. I don‘t want to.«

Charles tries really hard not to let his frustration show, trying out another way of figuring out what to do. He keeps his eyes on you, finally reading your thoughts to find out why you are so reluctant. As he does so, he finds himself more concerned than surprised. The fact that you are afraid of getting killed this way is something he didn‘t expect to hear. At the same time, your mind is so chaotic, it was hard at first to hear what you were thinking. Probably an effect of the alcohol, but something tells him this is most likely normal.

Seeing that he won‘t leave your side, you consider using your ability. Charles is faster, since he is still in your mind, stepping up in front of you.

»If you think using your mutation will solve your every problem, then you are wrong. Well, mostly. But this won‘t solve it, if not make it worse for you.«

He exhales once he is done talking, his expression growing more serious and authoritive.

»How did you even know I was about to use some powers on you?«

You try to pretend you don‘t have any abilities or mutation, not sure where this will lead you to anyway and being on edge from the moment he mentioned your telekinesis.

The man before you just smiles, seeing through the attempt of playing innocent.

»I read minds, dear. No way of hiding.«

His sentence throws a brutal shiver down your spine, feeling the strong urge to run away. Good thing you went the opposite direction of your dorms, so he wouldn‘t know where you live for now.

Charles sees how you are struggling, trying a more gentle approach this time.

»Look, I won‘t force you to come to my school, but I would recommend it to you. Here is my card with my number, tell me if you change your mind.«

He hands you over a small business card, the ink-writing neat and classy, it almost makes you forget how anxious you are. With a last look at him, you make your way back to your dorms with an uneasy and uncomfortable feeling towards this all. Just your lucky saturday.

◐

Next day was hard waking up, the slight hangover from the few beers last night were giving you a headache making you even more tired than usual. The business card from Charles is a constant reminder of how the night ended. In an unpleasant way. You were up for about three more hours, researching about the school and this man who talked to you. It‘s all so strange but familiar at the same time. You don‘t know why, but it doesn‘t sound so bad after constantly thinking about it in your lectures. Even now, as you are taking orders in the drive way, the idea of going to that school is more appealing than getting your dream job as a crime scene detective.

Another car drives up, hearing the motor through your headset and see it on the CCTV in front of you. You can‘t see the person inside yet, speaking the sentence you have to say at least a hundred times since this afternoon already.

The deeper, smooth voice tells you his order, a simple coke and fries. Writing the order onto your pad, you hand it over to your coworker and tell the person to drive up to the front window. Once he does, you help your coworker with the coke, the day being less busy now that it‘s nearing the closing hours.

You step up to the front desk, holding both the cup of soft drink and bag of fires, handing it over the open window. Once you look at the person, you pause. But you decide to pretend you don‘t know him, continuing with your job.

»That‘d be three-nintynine, sir.«

Of course, Charles smiles ever so politely at you and hands you more money than needed in return. You get the change behind the window, but he speaks up.

»Oh, no need for change. That‘s you tip, I know you work hard. However, I do need to speak to you. Your shift ends in fifteen minutes, no?«

Of course he knows that. Of course he knows where you work, probably even knows when you have to wake up for university.

You nod without argument, keeping your head down and sort the money in the cash register, really hoping he will just drive off silently and not cause a scene.

»I‘ll meet you at the back, then.«

Once he is away, you feel relieved and become more anxious in return. You sigh out heavily in attempt to get the uncomfortable feelings away, it not helping your situation.

»That guy bothering you?«

Your coworker at the food questions, looking ready to step in and follow the person you took the order from. But you shake your head in return, reassuring him you just had a long day and you get overwhelmed easily. At least he didn‘t hear exactly what Charles said, or else he‘d be running after that car in a second.

Your coworker is nice for that, also being strong and muscular, but you could handle this on your own.

Cleaning and sorting the rest of the stuff in the last fifteen minutes, and finally getting back into your normal clothes, you make your way outside to meet Charles.

You walk out of the back as usual and see the sillhoute of the man you just saw yesterday at the bar. He walks up to you, hands in pockets and still with that polite expression.

»Good evening. How was your shift?«

Fucking wonderful. You don‘t say that though and get straight to the point.

»Why are you here?« Charles seems either surprised or impressed for a moment, it‘s hard to tell.

»Just here to remind you of my offer. Not sure if you forgot about it since you had a few beers last night,« he answers back, putting his hands behind his back, »did you think more about it yet?«

Of course you have. You have researched about their school as much as you could, sacrificed your sleep for it.

»I haven‘t. I‘m not going, I have other things to do.«

You reply back with more intent behind it, leaving no room for arguments. As you are about to walk past him, he grabs your arm, making sure he doesn‘t hold on too tight and spooks you even further.

»You are making me look like a stalker if you keep doing this. Please, just hear me out on this.«

Charles sighs out, seeming to be done with any kind of options to get you into his school.

You stay firm and clear about your opinion, glad his grip isn‘t tight enough, so you pull your arm back to yourself.

»I‘m too busy for this. Don‘t show up here again, or I will get Robert out.«

The threat may seem empty for Charles, but he isn‘t some kind of creepy stalker who will argue with you on that. Indeed, he respects your words and makes his way back to his car, finally giving you some peace.

◐

It‘s been five days since you‘ve last seen Charles at your work place. Right after that night, he never set a foot into the restaurant you work at again. You have started to feel lighter and relieved that he didn‘t show up afterwards anywhere. Maybe life is worth living if there isn‘t a constant, annoying voice nagging you to join some mutant school. You don‘t even feel like a mutant, what is a mutant anyway?

Everything was peaceful, until you hear a knock at your dorm room door. You didn‘t think too much of it, it could be some of the other students asking for salt or some eggs, even though it‘s about ten PM. It‘s night‘s rest, why would someone actually knock at your door now?

Pushing your slight anxiety away, you answer your door. And you immediately want to close it again.

»Good evening, miss-«

»What in the actual fuck...«

You sigh out a curse, already closing the door but Charles puts his foot in between.

He huffs out, taking a step into your room. It‘s mostly decorated with posters and some personal belongings laying around on the nightstand and your bed, it not being as messy as most dorm rooms.

»Have you thought about it? Actually, forget that. We need you.«

Now he has managed to stun you. There‘s no way a mutant school or actual important people need you.

»What do you mean?«

You ask back, just letting him inside your room at this point, this being your last worry. He enters fully and feels relieved you aren‘t making a scene, starting to explain.

»We need more people in our school, and I‘m sure you have great potential. And we also need more people on our missions… if you are in for it.«

Charles keeps his expectant gaze on you, visibly tense as he waits for your answer. There‘s no way you would take such big responsebility to help mutants, already working on your actual dream job.

Finally, you shake your head in return, denying once more.

»No,« you take a step back, crossing your arms, »I‘m not joining, as I said before. I am not built for this and I‘m definitely not a mutant.«

Charles pauses at your answer, tilting his head a bit.

»Do you even know what a mutant is, dear?«

It feels like he has been living in your head for the last few days, now that you think of it. How did he even find out where your dorm room is?

»How did you get into my room in the first place?«

You ask back, raising your voice lightly at him as the realisation hits, making him a bit annoyed by your question.

»Again with these questions? Look, if you won‘t join us, lives will be at stake-« You inerrupt him, having no energy for this talk.

»I‘m not joining that damn school! I have my own studies and job, I can‘t just drop it.«

Charles understands your concern and eventually nods, speaking up again more softly.

»I get it, we can make sure you can live by our school and also get to your criminoligy classes and job. I promise you, we can get this figured out, if you just let me.«

He sighs out in the end, seeming more exhausted than you at this point. Is he always going after people this way?

»Maybe… I will think about it.«

He nods shortly at your response, seeing that you seem to think straight at least. Charles is really trying not to read into your mind at the moment, eventually speaking up again. More calmly, but still loud enough to alert the guards that walks down the hallway at the moment.

A sharp knock sounds at your door, followed up with a deeper voice.

»Miss? Is there another person in your room? You know very well that it‘s strictly forbidden, especially if boys involved.«

The voice, louder and deeper, tells you it‘s one of the more chill guards from outside. Still, you can‘t help but feel embarrassed and flushed.

»I‘m just talking to my friend on the phone!«

You reply back loud enough for him to hear through the door, glad he isn‘t walking into your room to be sure of your answer. Charles holds back on smiling at the situation, keeping his eyes on something else for now.

»If you say so… have a good night.«

With these words, the guards seems to walk away, leaving you be. You sigh out relieved, looking back to Charles, who seems to be more than amused all of a sudden.

»The term ‚boy‘ would be too young for me, but whatever. Just glad we didn‘t get caught, hm?«

He winks cheekily at you, approaching your window as he keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer.

You really want to punch him right now.

»Just… is it okay if I call you once I think about it?«

He nods in agreement to your question, glad you seem to be more willing to it now than before. The man opens your window and slips out silently, saluting to you shortly before he disappears into the night.

◐

Two days have passed, and you‘ve been a little more on edge these days. It‘s not like you haven‘t before, but this is just getting worse. The strange school and that Charles stays in your mind, being still unsure if he is sometimes flirting with you or not.

You shake your head, focusing back on the assingment in front you, writing another two sentences before growing frustrated again. This is distracting you a lot.

»What about now?«

That familiar, distracting voice sounds behind your ear again, jumping in your seat. You turn around quickly, huffing out annoyed.

»How long have you been standing behind me for?«

You frown, still holding your hand to your chest as you‘re slowly calming down from the jumpscare he just gave you.

He shrugs with a small smirk, keeping his eyes on your essay at your desk.

»A few moments. Your essay‘s good, could use some more words though.« He answers back, giving you some unwanted feedback.

»Well, what‘s your final decision?«

He gets back on track, trailing his eyes back to you as he stays leaned slightly over you shoulder.

»Uh...«

Your brain stops thinking, being still stressed from university work and that tough decision. In the end, you decide to just give in. To stop that endless game of his.

»Sure. I‘m going.«

He actually seems surprised at your response, having expected some reluctance once more. But you seem almost eager to join. Almost. He tilts his head, leaning back and puts his hands into his pockets,

»Huh. I expected more reluctance from you. In fact, I was ready to tell you about your deepest fears and secrets, but it seems like I don‘t need to do that.«

He smiles politely, getting sick of seeing it all the time. You won‘t mention it though, just feeling a bit tense again.

»Yeah, cool… when‘s that school starting again?«

Charles get back on the topic at your question, telling you briefly about the times and how many times a week you need to go to your trainings. It doesn‘t seem too bad, having training three times a week, and you don‘t need to attend to their classes since you are old enough and have your own studies to attend to.

»You can start right tomorrow. I‘m sure I‘ll find you there either way.« You nod back in response, sighing out softly to soothe your nerves about the whole thing. It shouldn‘t be too bad anyway, there‘s no need to be anxious or worried again. Finally, he seems to leave your room through your window again, taking a last look at you.

»Please don‘t worry yourself sick, it‘s not healthy.«

With that, he disappears out of your window, still wondering how he can be so quiet doing that. He doesn‘t even look stupid while doing so, how is that possible?

Getting back to reality, it‘s your time to pack your stuff to live in that Xavier University starting tomorrow afternoon, after your classes.

◐

Now that you‘ve got all your stuff for the university, getting out of your bus with your bag slung over your shoulder. Walking a fair bit, you finally start to see a big, rather gothic-looking building that should hopefully be the school you‘ll be going to for the next few weeks. It looks more like an old castle, but it doesn‘t matter anyway as you feel a strong breeze hit you in full force.

You finally drag yourself up to the big doors, getting in and relax at the warm air inside. There‘s chatter and younger people walking around, them probably being teenagers, which makes you feel out of place. Sure, you are a young adult, basically, but it‘s strange to be in the same space as so many teens. Shaking these strange thoughts away, you get to find the office of Charles.

On the way there, you accidentally bump into some of those younger people, finding them actually quite interesting. Especially the one‘s with obvious, physical differences. For example, a boy with horns, some girl with wings. It doesn‘t seem to end.

»I see you kept your promise.« You turn around to face Charles, again with his charming smile. But before you could answer him with an unmotivated comment, he speaks up and open the door to his office, walking in with you.

»I won‘t waste any more time, so I‘ll get straight to the point.« he goes around his desk, facing you again and leans his hands onto the surface, »We need another person like you on our next mission. Telekinesis is a strong thing, and I‘m sure you can develope your strengths even further. That‘s why I‘m glad you‘re here. You are ready to train, right?«

His serious expression softens, a small grin spreading across his face as he waits for your reaction. It‘s not like you have another choice anyway, being here already.

»Sure, why not?«

Hitting the mat with a loud thud, clothes getting heavy from your sweat and panting like a dog is the most exhausting thing you‘ve ever had to go through. His hand-to-hand combat skills aren‘t making this easier. It‘s almost as if he is trying to give you karma for being so reluctant on joining the school before.

»Fuck – can we stop for a second? I think I hit my head.« You pant tiredly, not having any more strength in your arms and legs left. But Charles doesn‘t show any mercy, chuckling as chalant as he is at you.

»Oh, c‘mon. We‘re only at round two and you‘re already tired out? Is your stamina really that bad?«

The light taunt is not making this any better. Your limbs are slowly recovering from the few sparring rounds and his teasing is starting to get to you.

You manage to stand up again, still catching you breath while he looks totally fine. This man is probably fifteen years older than you and seems to be fitter than you.

With that mentality and new motivation, you become more determined to beat him and become stronger than him. He tilts his head at you, seeming expectant.

With a deep breath, you focus on getting your telekinesis back into control. In this moment, you are glad that you practised your powers a few days ago. Without warning, he falls back, seemingly having been swiped off his feet by the air. Charles grunts and rolls to his side with a low groan and rubs his back lightly.

»Just now realising you can use your powers?« Despite him being in light pain from the fall, he still teases and pokes fun at you.

The older man stands up again and faces you once more, rolling his shoulder to release some tension.

»You didn‘t hesitate on the first time we met, though.«

That stupid smirk. You wish you could wipe it off of him right now, but now that he is your mentor, you can‘t do that.

With a brief shake of your head, he decides to drop it and be more serious for now.

»Okay, but seriously. I was actually surprised when you got me off my feet. I couldn‘t look into your mind at that moment.«

That was new. You didn‘t know you were this cool.

As he explains some more stuff of hand-to-hand combat and how to subtly use your powers. Meaning, you have to use them every day now and get used to it, as well as control it properly. But there‘s one thing you didn‘t tell him before, and now it‘s the perfect opportunity to do so.

»I actually… well, I made a rude costumer faint once. I guess I made his blood pressure drop abruptly with my powers and I don‘t know how I did that, to be honest.«

Charles eye‘s widen and he seems genuinely shocked for a moment. That is until he smiles, of course. He seems strangely excited about that. Able to control something such as blood in a living human being? That‘s the best and most horrifying new he has ever heard in a long time.

»Great! So, we know how far your powers can go and I‘m sure we can work with that. How about we train tomorrow again?« with a quick nod from your side, he speaks up again, »And please don‘t do anything else like that again. At least not until tomorrow.«

◐

Controlling your powers became easier as the days passed and you made it your new habit to unnecessarily use your powers when you were alone or at the Xavier university. Charles was proud of the progress, but your combat skills still needed some improvement. Of course, it‘s not easy to just teach you some tactical stuff when you never threw a bunch before in your life. But it‘s getting better. Slowly but surely.

Sure, he still gets cocky from time to time, but he is actually getting really helpful and seems to enjoy the training sessions too. But these things aside, the most important part is that your progress is quick and effective. Your powers are getting better under control and you‘ve managed to become even stronger.

Overall, your life has become more entertaining and less stressful. You moved to their dorms at Xavier school and managed to fire yourself from that awful fast food restaurant, so you don‘t have to deal with any rude costumers or your lazy manager again.

In all honesty, it feels really cool to be there in that school. You got to know more people and befriended some students and mentors in your age group. Finding out that there‘s more people like you, with various mutations, has been a refreshing and relieving experience. All these years having spent hiding your true self from everyone else, for your own safety, took a toll on you.

Having Charles as your trainer and mentor has its benefits. He actually is a caring person and you have seen him only have good or heartwarming interactions with the kid students around the school. He helps you get along with your powers and seems like the most understanding person on the planet.

Now, after three weeks, a lot of things have changed to the better. But some things also stayed the same. Your anxiety and paranoia, for example. You still feel the need to chek everything thrice and prepare yourself mentally for stuff a few hours before the actual event. It‘s safe to say it is taking energy from you as well.

Charles has mentioned before that his team needs you to help them out in a specific mission. That‘s why you‘ve been training for so long after all. In the briefing, you were sat at the table with the rest of the mutants, trying to pay attention to what Charles is talking about at the front. It seems important, but you can‘t wrap your head around anything he is saying.

Maybe that one joint was a mistake before walking into this.

With you eyes slightly red and watery, your body less stiff and your mind in a constant haze, it wasn‘t that hard to tell that you took something before this meeting. But could anyone blame you? Weed is known for making people relaxed and you were tired of being on edge all the time. Especially with these cool and more experienced mutants around.

However, you seem to have yourself pretty easily under control and no one even bats an eye into your direction, all eyes focused on Charles or the few documents laid in front of them. However, one person notices and he is actually concerned for a moment.

Charles steals a few glances at you, figuring it out a moment later. As he is explaining the plans and states some more information, he tries to read your mind at the same time.

When you have toothache is… is the pain in your mouth or brain?

Charles hears form your mind, glancing to you again before he ignores it and keeps going with the plan.

Wait, I need to focus. Is a hotdog a sandwich?

Eventually, Charles pauses for a brief moment during his speech before he keeps going as if nothing happened and stops reading into your mind for now. Wolverine scrunching his nose lightly and also steals a glance in your direction but won‘t say anything and just looks back at Charles with a light smirk.

Once the meeting is over, he sends everyone out but keeps you there for longer. No one seems to suspect anything, assuming he just needs to prepare you more since you are still a newbie. It‘s a wonder no one actually noticed or said something.

»Did you get how the plan works?«

You nod your head at Charles question, doing your best to focus on him and not on how funny his face looks at the moment.

»Did you also get weed before the meeting?«

Now his face looks less funny. How did he find out, you were doing fine.

»Uh… no?« You are really trying to pretend that you‘re sober and have no idea what he‘s talking about. But you can‘t fool him either way.

»Sure, you didn‘t. I‘ll brief you when you aren‘t high, but first I need to make sure you get back into your room.«

You look down, ashamed. He doesn‘t seem mad, but this is still a humbling experience. Eventually, he escorts you back into your own room and sits down with you to talk. Even when it‘s not easy to hold a serious conversation with you in such a state.

»Do you often smoke weed?«

You shake your head no, sitting upright next to him on the edge of your bed. Definitely not trying to come off sober in front of him.

»Then why did you do it today?« Charles is trying his hardest not to worry too much about it, feeling like it‘s his fault for you to think that drugs could help you in some way. But you only shrug in response and glance around your room as if it‘s the most interesting thing in the world. The man at your side sighs out and keeps his eyes on your, watching the slow movements of you eyes dilated pupils focusing on specific parts of your room.

This is frustrating him. Giving up on the serious conversation, he decides to end it here and try to give you some peace.

»Alright, I‘ll— « You already give up once you hear his first word and slump onto your bed, clumsy laying on it as he stands in front of it. Charles watches your limb body, making sure you‘re still breathing. Once assured, he lets out a breath.

»Just my luck… that‘s what I get for picking up a random person for this.«

He mutters under his breath while getting out of your room, having had enough for today.

◐

←MASTERLIST

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daydreamgoddess14 · 2 months ago

Note

Barrelling through the wall into your asks for a ficmas request! 🎄Please may I have:

💃 Office Christmas Party with River (and if you can find it in your heart for there to be smut I will be forever grateful 🤭)

Merry Christmas! xx

Christmas Sprit(s)

Ahhh Alex! I'm so happy to give you this 😄

For @cillmequick - shenanigans at the work Christmas party with River. F!Reader insert - no use of y/n, l/n, smut lies within. Squint and you might just see some Lamb/Standish as well 🤭

Can we all guess which motivational video enabled me to complete this today?!

Merry Christmas! 🎄

You hated organised ‘fun’.

Mostly because it was about as far from fun as you could possibly get.

Forced proximity, fake laughter, god-awful jokes… all made ten times worse at Christmas.

Why on earth couldn’t you just be on your sofa, with a bottle of Baileys and that new Netflix film that combined Christmas and Magic Mike.

Why did you have to be fraternising?

You’ve made somewhat of an effort at least, you’d only be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t crack out the glittery mini-skirt. It was a truly excellent skirt, it deserved to see the light of day at least a few times a year.

Roddy Ho had nearly tripped over his tongue when you walked in.

You throw back the remains of your cocktail - hoping the tequila will kick in soon and save you from this misery.

Across the room, you spot River’s arrival. Even in the dimly lit room, you can see the way his shirt brings out the bright blue of his eyes. He claps Ho on the back in greeting and shakes JK’s hand, eyes scanning the room for the others.

Catherine is apparently in a standoff with the head waiter about the table location.

Lamb is next to her, insisting he doesn’t give a shit where the table is, as long as there is one. You notice his hand on the small of her back as he leans into her slightly. The small gesture seems to work, she brushes off the waiter and turns back to give Lamb her attention.

“This is fucking miserable.” Louisa mutters as she shoves another Paloma into your hand.

“Yep. Thank fuck for tequila.” You clink your glasses together.

At the bar, Shirley is very quick to put her drink on River’s tab. She wanders over to you, successfully brandishing a very blue cocktail, with River in tow.

The expression on his face is unreadable.

“What the hell are you drinking?” Louisa’s nose wrinkles in disgust.

“Blue Hawaiian, wanna taste?” Shirley offers the straw and you take it in turns to give it a try.

Out of the corner of your eye, River is watching with amusement. You can feel his eyes on you, but you know it’s just in the hope that you’ll choke on the disgusting drink.

“Gross,” you declare, turning immediately back to your Paloma.

“And yours isn't?” River asks.

You offer up the glass, salted around the rim.

His tongue darts out to take a sip and you have to bite the inside of your cheek.

He keeps his eyes on you as he drinks.

“Nice. Tequila?” You nod, the power of speech is non-existent. There’s salt on his lower lip from the glass and if you weren’t in a room full of people, you’d lick it off yourself. Alas, he gets there first.

Who are you kidding? Of course you wouldn’t actually do that.

You wanted to though.

But no one needed to know that.

You kept your crush to the confines of your mind.

And your bedroom when you’re alone.

If anything, you were remarkably proud that you’d kept your megacrush under wraps for so long. It was almost like a challenge to yourself at this point that you did have a real life secret you’d take to the grave.

He looks even better than he did a few hours ago at the office, desire coils inside you and you instinctively draw your thighs together. It doesn’t help when he noticeably looks at your mouth, red lipstick is your ‘go to’ for a night out.

You’ve been in your brain a little too long, their conversation has moved on, and you haven’t been paying attention at all.

“... and then she went fucking ballistic that Ho had put mistletoe above her office door!”

“Well if they weren’t sneaking around -”

“Is it really sneaking if we all know about it?”

“I didn’t know, did you know?”

“Course I fucking did! And she does,” you manage to tune in just as the trio turn to you.

“Yep. I knew,” you confirm. “What do I know?”

“Were you not listening?” Louisa chastises you.

You hold the drink up.

“I was admiring Paloma.”

“We’re trying to work out who knows about Lamb and Standish.”

“Ohhh, that. Yeah I did know that,” you admit.

“How the hell did you know?” Shirley asks, outraged.

“I have eyes, Shirl.”

“Are you seriously the only one who doesn’t know?” Louisa queries.

“Fucking looks like it,” she shorter woman grumbled. “I didn’t know he knew though,” she jabs a thumb in River’s direction.

“I have eyes, Shirl.” He repeats your explanation, looking at you over the edge of his glass as he takes a drink. “I’m very observant, actually.”

“Ha! Yeah, ok, dicksplash.” Shirley laughs.

“Oh yeah, super observant,” you can’t help but join in. He doesn’t say anything in response, but his eyebrows pinch together in a little frown. There’s movement in the room, Catherine is rallying everyone to the table. “Quick, let's get another drink before we have to sit down,” you step away from the group, making a mental note of the round.

Blue Hawaiian (gross).

Paloma (glorious).

Gin and tonic.

Rum and coke.

“I’ll give you a hand,” River follows. The restaurant has gotten busy. Plenty of other office groups with their own parties going on.

A large man blocks your path on the way to the bar.

“Alright, love?” He asks loudly.

“Fine, thanks.”

“Buy you a drinky?”

“No, thanks.”

“Not even a dirty martini?” He leers, blatantly looking down the v-neck of your top.

“She said no, thanks.” River insists with his hand on your waist. With a little push, he guides you past the man. You’re half expecting a fight, but the man puts his hand on River’s shoulder.

“Fucking legs and tits on that, mate. You jammy bastard.” You hear him mutter, congratulatory.

Your hand balls into a fist, ready to turn on the wedge heel of your shoes and throw a punch.

River’s hand slides down your arm and covers your fist, working open your fingers and intertwining them with his own.

“Come on, lets get to the bar before Catherine fucking kills us,” he tells you, pulling you along to the bar. His voice is low in your ear, and close enough to draw goosebumps.

It’s too busy to stand side by side at the bar, so he stands directly behind you.

Even in the heels, he’s a head taller than you.

You feel him lean down, his chest against your back as he puts his mouth to your ear.

“You look lovely.” He smells incredible. So good, you have to bite back a sigh.

“Thank you. Very observant of you,” you tease.

“If you only knew the things I’d noticed.” He declares, raising a hand to encourage the barman in your direction. You don’t grace him with an answer. Just a laugh and a shake of the head. “That colour suits you.” His head is close to yours again.

“Hi, double gin, double rum, a Paloma and a Blue Hawaiian please?” You ask the barman with a smile. “It’s a black top, River,” you roll your eyes, getting your credit card from your bag.

“I mean the bra.” He replies without lowering his voice.

The drinks start lining up in front of you.

He traces a line down your shoulder blade alongside the strap of your bra, nudging it back into place from where it has escaped from beneath the strap of your top.

You dare not speak as you try and shake off the heat pooling in your belly from the touch of his hand. You wave your credit card at the machine, thank the barman and pick up two of the drinks. He picks up the other two and you follow him to the table.

Lamb is holding court at one end, with Catherine at his side.

The others are scattered around and there are two seats left, side by side.

While you’re busy handing Louisa and Shirley their drinks, he pulls out the chair for you.

You’re about to thank him when Lamb stands up, demanding everyone's attention.

“Right then, gobshites. Merry fucking Christmas and all that, thank you for your efforts for another shitty year.” He raises his glass, “cheers.”

You all join in the toast and the food starts arriving.

Catherine is the queen of organisation, a list readily available for anyone who’d forgotten what they’d pre-ordered. The wine flows far too freely and the table is soon sharing food, stories and laughter.

It doesn’t happen often at Slough House where the default tone is sarcasm and derision, so it’s actually nice to be nice to each other.

Everyone is very merry. Ho, JK and Shirley are playing a drinking game - rules unknown - but they appear to be spying on the other company parties going on around you. At the top of the table, Lamb has his arm around Standish who is nursing an orange juice. She leans against him with a soft smile. You’re contemplating a drink for the road with Louisa when you notice River watching you.

There’s that unreadable expression again.

“I think I’m going to head off,” you tell Louisa.

“Nooo! Have another!” She pleads.

“My bed is calling,” you tell her with a giggle.

“Paloma neeeeeds you,” she all but begs. She's not wrong. Tequila for the road makes sense, it's cold outside, the smooth agave would warm you up.

“Go on then, twist my arm,” you bop her on the nose with a festive red-polished fingertip.

“Gin?” She asks River, who nods and downs the last splash in his glass.

The last drink is perfect, but you're on the drunker side of tipsy and ready for your warm bed.

You frown at your phone like your granny does, and try to bring up the Uber app.

“I've got it,” he mutters quietly next to you.

Chairs have moved around, tables pushed out of the way for the more social groups who want to dance, and his chair has ended up even closer to yours. You feel the muscles in his thigh as he leans into you to get to his opposite pocket. “10 minutes. Can go past yours on the way to mine?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmur.

You should probably check whether anyone else needs to jump in as well.

“We're going to the cluuuuub!” Shirley sings loudly from the centre of a Louisa and Ho sandwich.

“Enjoy -”

“You're coming too!”

“No, I'm not.”

“But you have to,” she insists with a pout.

“Nah, I'm too pissed -” this time it's Louisa who cuts you off.

“Fuck that, if she's making me go to a club then you're coming as well. River, cancel the Uber.”

“But -”

“Cancel. The. Uber.” Louisa told him through gritted teeth.

“Yep, done.”

“River,” Catherine appeared anxiously beside him. “You will make sure the girls get back safely?”

“Course he will, Standish. He knows I'll have his balls if he doesn't,” Lamb holds her coat out. “C’mon, I'll buy you a bag of chips on the way home. I'm still starvin’ after that poncy rubbish.”

“They'll be fine, I promise. I might even persuade them to drink some water.” River assures her.

“Fat fuckin’ chance, pal,” Shirley barks a loud laugh as she shoves your coat into your hands. “Get ya coat, you've pulled.” She winks with a subtle nod towards River.

The bar she takes you all to is even busier.

“More drinks!” Louisa shouts over the noise and points at the bar.

You form a single file conga line. Linked hands and fingers hooked on belt loops holding you all together.

River's hand is attached to your hip, simultaneously pushing you just enough to keep you close to Shirley in front, but also pulling you closer to him.

At the bar, you crush up against each other.

With the crowd, it's impossible for anyone else to see how low his hand has slipped on the small of your back.

You chance a look up at him while he's looking past you to Shirley. He continues talking to her while you take in his profile.

Stubble just long enough to be called a beard, angular nose.

Those blue eyes.

Your social battery is just about on its arse but once someone - Ho, obviously - passes you a fortifying shot of something disgusting, you and that sequined mini skirt are up and dancing.

You can feel River's eyes on you but you’d rather keep your back to him and try and carry on as casually as you can, the drink tells you that if you turn around, you know you won’t be able to stop staring.

At least with your back to him, you can't see him. Plus you know your arse looks great in this skirt, it was literally the sole reason for buying it in the first place.

He's taking the chaperone duty seriously, not wanting to get on Catherine's bad side.

Roddy has managed to grab a couple of seats at the bar so you leave Louisa and Shirley on the dance floor and squeeze in between them. You take a sip of River's drink, yours is long finished.

“Help yourself.” He smirks, his hand moving to your hip again, hidden by the darkness of the bar. You put a hand on his thigh and lean in slightly, taking some of the pressure off your feet. You’re close enough that he can see your breath hitch as his thumb finds a patch of exposed skin at the waistband of your skirt.

You glance across at Ho, but he's distracted by a party of girls in tiny elf costumes.

“He's not looking, don't worry,” River says into your ear. His nose nudges your hair aside, his lips brush your earlobe and your knees buckle.

The hand you have on his thigh grips a little tighter, leaving crescent moon nail indents in his jeans.

Your breath trembles as you exhale.

You turn your head slightly, feeling his stubble graze your cheek.

The tiniest of whimpers escapes your mouth. Impossible to hear over the noise of the bar.

The gentle kiss on the pulse point under your ear tells you he heard it anyway.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask quickly, pushing your nerves down. He nods, pulling back from you a little, and finishes most of his drink. He offers the last of it to you.

“Need to try and get them out of here,” he looked across at Shirley and Louisa who were doubled over laughing. “I promised Catherine.”

“I'll get them,” the pressure of your hand on his thigh lightens as you stand wholly on your own feet again, wincing a little.

It takes longer than you'd like. Apparently Shirley is very into nostalgic Christmas party songs so she's currently moshing around the dance floor to Slade.

Finally, you drag them both with you, one in each hand like naughty toddlers.

“I don't wanna go!” Shirley stamps her foot. Literally stamps her foot. Ho thinks it's hilarious.

“I do, I'm fucking knackered. I want to sit on my kitchen floor and eat a ham salad sandwich.” Louisa muses.

“Oh,” Shirley looks at her in wonder. “That does sound… sooo good, actually. Yeah let's go,” she holds onto River's arm, unsteadily letting go with one hand to pull on her coat, and swapping to the other hand. “Thanks, Riv,” she pats his cheek.

“It's a bit unsettling having you be nice to me, Shirley,” he grins at her.

“Back on form tomorrow, tosser.” She promises with a lopsided, tired smile. She lets him put an arm around her shoulder, his other hand reaches behind to take yours, while you make sure you have Louisa. Poor Roddy tears himself away from the sexy elves and brings up the rear.

Outside, the booze hits you.

Fuck.

Had you seriously just propositioned River Cartwright?

He was clearly just going to push you into the next taxi and go home, like any sensible person would.

“Right then, Lou and Shirl, time to go, go, Ho,”

“With you?” Shirley squints.

You're cuddled up to Louisa, keeping warm and upright.

“That's right, Roddy Ho is hot to go and you ladies are coming with me.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you if you don't stop rhyming Ho and go,” Louisa tells him tiredly. She sounds somewhat sober.

“Yeah, alright,” he deflates a little.

Louisa presses a warm kiss to your cheek and tilts her head to whisper in your ear.

“Be careful,” she says urgently. “Do not be afraid to say no. He's not going to think badly of you if you do.”

You blush, ashamed that you’ve been so obvious.

Bloody tequila.

“Come on then, let’s go. If I stay out here any longer I’ll need to pee.” Shirley bounces on the balls of her feet. They pile into a cab with Roddy reeling off the addresses one by one.

“Be a good girl!” Ho shouts to you as they drive off.

Bloody tequila.

While you’re admonishing the tequila, River has summoned a cab. He holds the door open for you to slide across the back seat. You give the driver your address and River does the same.

The driver is speeding through traffic before you even have a chance to search for a seatbelt. You haven’t moved quite far enough along the seat, so as he rounds each corner, you're pushed further into River.

“Sorry,” you mumble as another corner is taken at a higher speed than necessary. It smushes you into River’s side again. “Jesus, is this guy ready to finish or something.”

He puts a hand on your thigh, “you ok?”

“Yeah fine.” The heat of his hand lights up your skin.

You both look at his hand on your leg, and then back to each other.

The streetlights illuminate you both and then send you into darkness again.

You don��t know if it was an unconscious move or deliberate, but his thumb brushes gently in small circles on your bare skin.

You’re sure he must be able to see your heart pounding through your top.

As he leans into you, his hand moves up another inch and as you gasp at the sensation, he lightly kisses you.

“Here we are, then.” The taxi driver interrupts.

River reaches for his wallet but you hand over twenty quid before he can get there.

He steps out of the car and extends a hand to help you out.

“You coming back in, fella?” the driver asks.

River looks down at your hand to find he’s still holding it.

“No thanks, mate.”

You’ve barely got the front door closed behind you before he’s pushing you up against it and kissing you with a fierceness you were desperate for.

Your hands worked fast, pushing his jacket down his arms and onto the floor with a thud, and pulling him back to you by his t-shirt.

He’s got one hand up in your hair and the other is on your leg, halfway up the skirt while he kisses your jawline.

His body presses against you and you can feel him, hard through his jeans.

You bring up the leg he’s got a hand on and he hooks it over his hip, it tilts your lower body further into his and he is so close to where you need him it sends you dizzy.

It's impossible to disguise the neediness of your moans and the hand that he has up your skirt is moving further up to grip the fleshy soft spot between your hip and thigh.

"God, River -," you whine, your hips canting towards his.

"Sure you want this?"

You nod against his shoulder.

"Talk to me, babe," he asks.

A reasonable request given that your blood probably has an 80% tequila content.

"Yes, yeah I'm sure," you're pulling at his t-shirt, dragging it over his head.

When he mutters "good girl," against your collarbone, you're certain you could come there and then.

He traces the seam of your knickers with his fingers, feeling just how wet you are for him, "jesus," he murmurs against your lips.

He slips his fingers inside you and presses his thumb to your clit.

Your knees buckle and he presses you harder into the door.

The foot you still have on the ground is on tiptoes but you can tell he’s got you.

He seems to know exactly what you need, and just when you're at the brink, grasping for the release that's just out of reach, he kisses you again.

It's hot and rough and sends you right over the edge.

“Fuck, River,” you moan against him, “fucking hell -”

He gives you a minute, a slightly softer kiss, and takes back his fingers from your still clenched thighs.

When he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, you quickly realise you don’t need a minute, you only need him.

Your shaking hands fumble with the button of his jeans until he takes over and does it himself, he's dug out a condom from his wallet. You're still fully clothed, still wearing the wedge ankle boots that, with his help, have you at exactly the right height for him to push into you.

It's everything.

Everything you've fantasised about since the day you were introduced.

He thrusts into you using your hips as leverage, your heel grazing the back of his thigh.

Your hands hold fast to the back of his neck and his shoulder,

"River, fuck, you feel so good," your name is reverent on his lips as he comes but he doesn’t stop until you’re there too.

His pace slows as his hips stutter, and your head rests in the crook of his neck while you catch your breath.

All at once, he's gentle again, carefully bringing your leg back down and making sure you're steady on your feet.

He looks a little sheepish as he steps back away from you, taking your hands to help you stand up away from the back of the door.

"You ok?" He asks, still breathless.

You pull your skirt back down into place, his eyes on your legs as you do so.

"Yeah, yeah fine. You?"

"Yeah, course."

He looks like he can’t get out of there fast enough, his hesitation and unease rub off on you. "I should go though -"

"Yeah, no I figured as much."

Partly true, but there is still an element of surprise.

"It's just been a fucking long day, y'know?" He explains, tidying himself up and looking around for his t-shirt and jacket.

"Yeah, I hate Christmas parties." You agree.

He must have seen the brief look of hurt that crossed your face, "not that it was a mistake… but maybe, probably shouldn't have happened? Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a fucking dick. We’ve both had a lot to drink -"

"I get it, River. It was fun, but it didn't mean anything."

It didn't mean anything.

Probably the biggest lie you've ever told, and it's out of your mouth like you knew it had to be said all along.

“Right…” He looks confused, almost as if he expected tantrums and anger. “So we’re -”

“We’re fine,” you insist. “G’night.”

“... I…” Louisa frowns, holds up a finger to prevent you from interrupting, and tries again. “I… didn’t picture him just… leaving.” You pass her the biscuits and wrap your hands back around your mug of tea.

“Well, he did.” Another email pings in from Catherine two floors above your head. “Probably for the best. We drank so much -”

“Bullshit, we all had. You said yes, didn’t you? Like it was totally clear that you wanted to…” she raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh yeah, he knew I wanted to. Look, it’s fine, it’s out of our system now. We wanted to know, and now we do, end of story.”

“Hmmm.”

“Don’t hmmm me.”

“Is that why you’re hiding?”

“I’m not hiding, this is my office.”

“Which you’ve barely left.”

“Terribly sorry, I have work to do. You know how it is,” you brush her off with a grin and open Catherine’s email.

You’re halfway through her list of fraudulent bank transfers when you notice how dark it has gotten outside.

Louisa said goodbye at least an hour ago, you were only going to do a couple more and then leave right after her, but time had drifted.

You’re only lit by the computer monitor so you don’t notice River until he’s standing right by your desk making you jump.

“Fuck me, River! Why didn’t you put a light on?!”

“I came in to turn your screen off, I didn’t know you were even here!”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Gone, it’s nearly 7pm.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise the time.” You’re cursing not leaving when Louisa did.

Work has been fine in the few days since the Christmas night out, but it’s easier with a buffer.

Without someone else filling the gaps, the lapses in conversation feel huge. “Trying to get this done before we break up.”

“Yeah. I’ve hardly seen you since…” he trails off, unsure how to finish the sentence he started.

“Since the other night,” you finish for him.

You feel your heart rate speed up as he looks at you.

There’s something in his gaze again, as there had been at the party, but it’s dark and you’re sure you’re just imagining it.

“Since then,” he agrees quietly.

There’s a moment of silence that should really be filled, but you're damned if you know what to say.

You stand up so he’s not completely towering over you.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind is consumed by the memories of that night.

You can still feel the slight burn where his beard had rubbed against your skin.

The fingertip bruises on your hips from his tight hold.

The tension in your belly that you can’t seem to quell - no matter how much you draw on the memories of that night.

The heat coils tighter again as you struggle to ignore it.

“Are you sure we’re ok?” He asks suddenly.

There’s a hint of vulnerability in his question.

He’s genuinely concerned about your feelings.

You hesitate, unsure how to respond.

You know you should brush it off as a drunken encounter, but the intensity had taken you entirely by surprise.

The way your body had responded, the empty ache afterwards.

You hadn’t anticipated the effect he’d have on you in such a short time.

The thought of what you were missing out on both terrifies and excites you.

“I’m sure, River,” you reassure him. “I don’t regret it, I knew what I was doing.”

He looks visibly relieved, even in the dim light.

“No regrets. Huh,” he murmurs, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You can’t seem to stop looking at it.

“That’s good,” you hear him add.

“How about you?”

The question is out of your mouth before you can stop to think.

You really don’t need to know the answer.

“No. Not about that night.”

“Good,” you whisper. “That’s good too.”

“Well, possibly one, actually.”

Your heart sinks as you brace yourself for the inevitable.

“Oh?” you manage to squeak, your voice betraying your anxiety.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have rushed off?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

You can feel his gaze on you, studying your face.

His eyes land on your lips and linger there, as if he can’t help himself.

“That skirt was…” he huffs a little laugh, a shake of his head. “You looked incredible.”

The compliment catches you off guard, especially today when you’re wearing the biggest, warmest jumper you can find.

“Bit of a contrast to today,” you point out with a small smile. “But this is much warmer.”

River laughs, “I can see that.” He takes a step closer, his eyes raking over your body. “You’re swimming in that thing.”

Your heart is thundering in your chest.

There’s no alcohol to dull the senses this time, everything feels electrified.

You could go up in flames with just one look.

Your thighs press together desperately, clenching on nothing.

“I should have had a better look when I had the chance,” he says quietly. Hesitantly.

His words send a shiver down your spine.

“Another regret,” you tell him.

He smiles, satisfied that he hasn’t overstepped.

“Exactly,” he agrees, brushing your hair from your eyes.

He’s standing so close to you now that you can feel the heat from his body.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, you feel his fingers at the bottom of your jumper, toying with the knit.

His breath ghosts across your cheek and you lean into it.

“Yes?”

He weighs his words carefully.

“Did you want me to leave?”

You shake your head slightly, “no,” you whisper.

He lets out a small breath, his hands bunching in the thick jumper as they move to your waist.

“That’s good,” he mirrors his earlier response.

Your gaze is locked on his mouth as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

As he leans down to kiss you, you feel the edge of the desk press into the backs of your thighs.

The kiss is insistent and demanding, somehow more confident without alcohol.

He pulls you closer, his tongue parting your lips as he deepens the kiss. Your hands reach up to grip his shoulders.

The kiss turns more urgent, his tongue tangling with your own while one of his hands wanders underneath the oversized jumper to touch your warm skin.

The evidence of his desire is hard against your groin and he shifts to push his thigh between your legs.

You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes as the pressure against your core sends a wave of heat through you.

River kisses down your neck, biting gently at your pulse.

His hand under your jumper reaches further up to cup your breast over your bra. His touch is gentle and light at first but he soon grips you more firmly, one hand on your hip keeping your body flush with his.

He mumbles something against your skin, his breath ragged and uneven as he continues placing hot kisses on your neck. He brings his hand out of your jumper and cups your chin, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip.

“Want you now,” he insists, his voice rough. “But not here.”

He pulls away, his forehead resting against yours.

“Roddy’s probably got cameras,” he explains on seeing your disappointed pout. “Besides, this time I want to be patient enough to at least take your clothes off first.”

“Let’s go then,” you push him away from the desk so you can stand properly. “You’ve got a present to unwrap.”

#river cartwright #slow horses #jack lowden #river cartwright fanfic #slowhorsesfanfiction #river cartwright x oc #river cartwright/reader #river cartwright fic #river cartwright x reader #river cartwright smut #ficmas 2024

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