#I’m doing that dumb thing to keep specific words from showing up in searches

[sagitariusrising]

Tagged by @smolbeandrabbles​ - it’s ALSO been a while since I’ve done a tag game <tips hat 👒 > so thank you ☺️

Favourite Color: Blue, specifically ultramarine. I’ve got some watercolor ink pencils and the shade I’m using now is gorgeous.

Currently Reading: i just finished re-reading “the Exorcist,” I had listened to the audiobook, wasn’t sure if the audiobook was abridged, went by to my copy, and yep: abridged. This week, I also finished “Big” by Lionel Shriver and started “the Wager” by Gregory Grann and am going to start re-reading the “Silo” series because I see AppleTV has done an adaptation.

Last Song: Bittersweet Symphony- The Verve- There’s been lots of change this year, I’ve made myself a reflection playlist to help with the feels™️. Last songs related to fic were “Rush” by Depeche Mode and “Who by Fire” by PJ Harvey (covering Leonard Cohen, thank you “Bad Sisters”)

Last Movie: Full movie? “Captain Marvel”. But I watch that almost weekly. Last “new” movie watched was “A Knock at the Cabin” and I was happy with the adaptation. Someday I’m going to write a Dave Bautista fic, but I haven’t found the right character.

Last Series: Seeing Thrawn played by an IRL actor has sent me back to “the Mandolorian” Prior to seeing the clips from SWCE, I hadn’t had a hook into the show. But I’ve been reading about Thrawn since…yeah, I’m old…I honestly think that the continuity of keeping Lars Mikkelsen is one of the better ideas that the SW Universe has had in a while. Also, I finished “Poker Face” yesterday and it was amazing!!

Sweet, Savoury or Spicy: These days, it’s savory.

Craving: In January, I was in the hospital and have been eating mostly bland food since. My go-to these days is a quinoa blend with butternut squash and chia. Right now, I’m craving a vanilla bean skyr and’ll probably have one after I finish this post.

Tea or Coffee: Coffee, less these days (see last paragraph). Lots of blackberry flavored seltzer water too.

Currently Working On: I’m still in my Ben Mendelsohn era. My current fic is an “Outsider/Midnight Mass” crossover. As there has been an uptick in Ørson Krenn.ic fic on my dash, I’m am heavily editing my Krenn.ic/Kary series with the plan <hides head> to post it here. AND trailers for “Secret Invasion” are poking my dreams for Sam and Keller. But if I post anything, I will be standing on the shoulders of *giants*. You know who you are 🥰😉

Tagging @artemiseamoon and anyone else on my dash who cares to play along.

[imwetforyourmom]

any writing tips , i’m just starting out so i need a lil help (im also a slut for ur fics)

examples are half assed, so dont expect them to br how I usually write, its js to get the point actoss

the start of a fic

1. write the settings, write whos where, whos doing what, are they outside? whats in their surroundings?

ex: y/n was sat on the floor, her legs criss crossed, while chris attempted to learn how to do braids on her hair, his fingers were timid with each movement made.

2. describe whats going on in their head as of now or the last few days, have they had any re occuring dreams? have your character wander why their having that same dream.

ex: y/ns mind gave her no mercy with her current situation, she couldnt get a break from the rackng thoughts inside her head.

3. tip six: what is y/n or partner feeling right now? is there a specific feeling on their skin thats bothering them or is it emotionally?

writing

make sure to add detail to understand whats going on, but not too much detail to where youre explaining where each crevice and pore on their skin is or etc

try and add just the tiniest bit of comedy anywhere you can, I dont always do it, but I think it’d keep your readers entertained, and if youre weiting sb the triplets, it portray their personality rlly good

to make sure the fics not too bland or straight to the point, maybe try and add obstacles or things that lead up to it, dont immediately start writing what the point of the fic is

angst

write all about how the events make chracter feel, why they hurt them how they did and how it impacts them. do they have any truama thats similar to whats going on? write it down.

again, write abiut their feelings, how it hurts them, if theres any physical aches from the amount of pain shes felt from the events, write it down boo

if arguing, make sure to add facial expressiobs, jt shows of feelings, anger rising or sadness bubbling over, facial expressions play a role as well.

ex: chris’ lips parted and his eyebrows stitched together, he clenched his fists with each word y/n spoke—more like yelled at him. he couldnt believe it.

fluff

(cuddling)

write about how warm it makes character feel inside, ir how nych it comforte character, like if she cant find any other sort of peace in anything else, but the way chris’ hands wrap so easilh around her body

explain where each persons hands are, are they pulling chracater tigheter into their embrace, are their hands desperately grabbing onto one another? we need details.

is this the first time they’ve cuddled? if so, add timid, hesitant movements, chracter and partner dont want to go to far to the point where they believe the other feels uncomfy,

smut

details!! we need details!! (not too much)

dont just jmuo right into it, add a buildup (builfups sre very imprtant) unless its just a smut with no plot, but if it does have buildup, add like thiughts of despearteness for the other

ex: chris’ eyes searched y/ns body, taking in each curve. gosh, how he just wanted to pin her againdt a wall and fuck her dumb

always add dirty talk, dirty talk can get almodt anyone going, it can turn them on faster or get them closer to their orgasm. dirty talk is a must.

always, always add clit or titty play, its another way to get closer to the orgasm and also to the readers (ig), but yeah tit and clit are always a must.



[raffaelamusiker]

Formal request to also ask all of them for the fic ask

(You can't prove it's been a whole month)

Origonal post

What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

‘Not yet’ whispers through the trees and B’Elanna shudders. And I couldn't even tell you why but it's my most favourite <3 From Existing In Your Orbit

What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

Oooh boy. Honestly Rios staying in 2024.

Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

I recently recieved amazing long comments on my Jemily series and I think they might be my most favourite. Also Jaz's comment on Mercy and the ones where people ask me for more smut because they're so funny.

What is your wildest headcanon?

I wrote a crack fic the other day where Seven drank a Big Gulp without taking a breath so I guess that one.

What’s your ideal writing setup?

Somewhere cosy and no noise.

Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

Depends. For multi-chapter I usually try and have an outline or basis. usually just go with the flow and what kind of fic it is.

Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

“What, and I’m not important enough for you to want to stay?” Raffi shoots back, picking at her nails. 

The hand that’s gripping the page of the book in her lap moves quick enough that it rips it before she snaps the book shut loudly. A pang of regret fills her chest at the fact that this is one of Raffi’s books but her frustration takes over everything else. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Raffi.” Seven stands to walk away. “When have I ever said you aren’t important? If I didn’t want to be here I wouldn’t come.” 

“You’ve never said I am important!” 

Gasp angst who'd have thought.

Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

Only if I'm trying to read a specific fic i've read before. I usually just scroll through all the fics til I find one I want to read again.

Do you like to post fics on a schedule or at random?

Random. Gotta keep you all on your toes you know.

What helps you focus when you write?

Really wish I knew haha.

What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

This is a hard toss up but it's got to be either Before the Sunrise, Raffaela or Nostalgia

Do you write for yourself, for others, or both?

Both. Writing is cathartic and helps me get out my messy thoughts but also I love sharing things with others.

Why did you start writing fanfic?

To get all these ideas out of my head and to help me mentally.

Which character is your favorite to write?

Hmm...I wonder...

Raffi, of course though Emily will always be my baby too.

Which character is the toughest to write?

Sometimes I find Seven tough from a 3rd person pov, but honestly men are just hard to write lmao

Do you write for multiple fandoms? If yes, what is your favorite fic of yours for each fandom?

Well I've listed my CM and Picard faves already but my Voyager fave is probably A Collective of Four

How often do you read your own fics?

So often lmao.

Do you want to write something outside of fanfiction? If so, what about?

Well me and bestie want to write our AU's into books. Princess and Knight AU and Pirate AU. All wlw of course.

If a movie or show were based on your fic, which fic would you choose and who would you fancast?

All the Saffi fics should be real. Just saying. (Well not all of them...)

What inspires you and your writing?

Stupid dumb characters in my head /affectionate, and talking to others.

Do you research for your fics?

Usually if its needed. And it's usually for small little things.

What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?

Probably in the middle. But I'll read near enough anything tbh.

Do you often write about a relationship or focus on an individual?

I usually focus on one character within a relationship with the relationship surrounding it.

Have you included any sexy scenes in your fics? If yes, do you find them easy or difficult to write?

It depends on the vibe tbh. Sometimes it flows a lot easier than others. I do have to write from a giving position usually though otherwise its hard af lmao.

Is it easier to write angst or fluff?

Angst. I never feel like I get fluff right honestly.

What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?

Happy endings even if everythings gone to shit before. Except Before the Sunrise but that's an outlier. Sometimes I'll do ambiguous or bad but I tend to need the happy endings to make me feel better haha.

How many WIPs do you currently have?

Oh no...I don't even want to count. Ones that are written that don't include multichapters? Maybe 5? MC's and just ideas included thats probably in the teens honestly.

Does anyone beta read or edit your fics?

Bestie Blaine is always the best beta and makes my stuff make sense <3

Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

If I had to choose one fic, it would have to be Foundations. Authors, alreadyaccepted, smol_yellowbumblebee, ericine, daxs10thhost, bimichaelburnham, sleeplessrivers, dolcewrites, fenrisranger, thequeerengineer, sgtmac, falltonadir...okay just everyone in the Saffi/Picard tag okay <3

What led to your interest in the fandom?

My partner got me watching the first season of Picard and there were gays so, the rest is history I guess.

Are non-fandom friends aware that you write fanfic?

I am quite open about it haha.

What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

Reading other people's fics and interacting with them is the best way to enchance your own writing.

Do you like writing short fics or long fics?

I love writing long fics but lately that's been an impossible struggle and I've felt kinda like a failure. Last year I wrote something like 70 fics because I did a lot of drabbles. This year I want to focus on longer fics and I have quite a few ideas stored up.

Do you have a writing milestone you’re working towards?

It depends. Sometimes i can look at a chapter and I'll guess how long it is (and then it'll be longer) but I usually go with the flow.

Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?

As someone who just got out of burnout, its to try something new. I started With Love, A which is a totally different format from what I've done before and it's really brought me out of the slump. Also talking through things with other people is always great.

Would you ever want to write something canon if you got the opportunity?

I would like to make my own canon someday haha.

Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

Hurt/comfort is my beloved.

If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Polycule cuddle pile. Which one? I have too many to choose from.

[martuzzio]

The idea of Ren joining the Amputees-Only club sounds so bittersweet... cuz before he knew they were having fun, but also knew that they were allowed to have a bond like that. He never expected to join them.

I can honestly imagine in his first few meetings there's a few times where Ren just cries, poor guy...

Rendog's first Amputee's Only Club Meeting (written under the cut because this one is longer than normal)

Despite what the universe seems to think, Doc is a pretty easygoing guy. Yes, he does look scary as hell and yes, he was a mob boss at one point, but that doesn’t mean he’s a violent person. Well, he’s violent when he needs to be, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. In reality, his favorite moments are all from quiet parts of his normal, boring, daily life as a hermit.

In these everyday moments, Doc likes to process things. He likes to sit in the greenhouse and watch the bio bees work alongside the robot bees. He likes to brush his fingers on the plants and let his half-robotic brain process the data into something that resembles touch. He likes to listen to Grian and Etho chat as they work.

He observes small moments like these because that’s all he really does. He takes in data and processes it. He uses the processed information to judge his surroundings and react accordingly. Sometimes this means that he uses his data to laugh at his friends who make dumb jokes. But sometimes he uses the data to run, hide, or fight back. When all you do is process data to keep yourself alive, it becomes very hard to ignore incoming information.

This is how Doc eventually locates Ren. He wasn’t planning on finding where his longtime friend wheeled off to, much less go searching for him, but Doc unfortunately decided to take a more leisurely route to the bridge and his camera eye caught the slight movement anyway. Doc has to give it to him; the man knows how to hide. The werewolf is in a lesser-used community room, curled into a dusty couch that’s been shoved into the corner. The chrome wheels of his temporary mobility aid reflect off of the window overlooking deep space. Ren has his left leg drawn up to this chest. His stump of a right leg rests on the couch cushion, shunned. Ren’s obviously hid because he doesn’t want to be found, but unluckily for him, Doc was specifically altered to notice things.

Ren’s flinch when Doc claps his hand on his shoulder is almost unnoticeable. Ren looks like he’s either been crying or had a bad allergic reaction to the dust. Doc assumes the former.

“Cub was working on your new parts earlier today. They look pretty sick,” he ventures.

Ren looks like he has the entire universe on his shoulders. “That’s wonderful,” he mumbles. He opens his mouth as if to say more, but instead sighs and slides his eyes shut.

Doc plops down on the couch and slings his arm over the back of the rest. The action makes Ren recoil again, this time more visibly, and Doc pointedly ignores it. Instead, he says, “As much as I want you to come see what Cub is making, you will go to him when you feel like it. There is nothing you need to do right now besides heal.”

Ren barks out a wet laugh. “Bro, I appreciate you so much, but how can stumps heal?”

Doc’s cybernetic hand twitches in sympathy. “You know what I mean, man, and we both know it.” Doc replies. He looks down at the sliver of space between his leg and Ren’s and chews his words. Ren shifts his gaze to Doc’s arm, then to gaze directly at the creeper’s face.

Doc feels uncomfortable in a way he’s never felt before. All of the other amputee hermits were already amputees when they joined the crew. They had time to heal, be angry, and let go in their own ways. He did, too. But now, with Ren sitting next to him, suffering through the same kind of anguish Doc felt when he first woke up from being operated on, Doc suddenly doesn’t know how to act. How do you comfort someone who literally lost a third of their body? As much as Doc knows what that feels like and as much as he wants to help his friend, he might not be able to. He might not ever be able to.

It’s the single most heartbreaking thing that Doc’s realized in a long, long time.

This revelation causes the duo to sit in silence for a long while. Then, Doc gets an idea. His eye shifts to look at his friend. Ren narrows his eyes tiredly but waits anyway.

“The Amputees-Only Club meeting is in a few minutes.” Doc murmurs. Ren is silent, but he plows on. “I think you should come,” he pleads. “I think everyone would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s throat clicks as he swallows. “I’m sure they would.”

“I would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s eyelids squeeze together. “I know you would.”

“Then let’s go,” Doc insists as he pushes himself to his feet. He turns around and smiles as much as he can at his friend, still curled up on the couch. Ren gazes exhaustedly back. “I think it would be a good idea.” He wishes his smile weren’t so frightening.

Ren moves to rub his eyes with his hands but remembers he’s missing one of his arms a little too late. The resulting crumpled expression immediately burns into Doc’s deep storage memory. “I don’t know, Doc.” The werewolf manages after a long moment. “I appreciate you trying to help, but…”

Doc understands. Of course he does. When he first joined the hermits, the idea of a weekly club meeting exclusively for amputees sounded farfetched at best and belittling at worst. Hell, he didn’t even think there were enough amputees on the team to warrant a club. Imagine his surprise when three other people showed up to his first session, all excited he was there to hang out with them.

With this in mind, all he can do is repeat, “I think it would be a good idea.”

Ren stares up at him, and in that moment, he looks as old as Xisuma. But then he gently closes his eyes, inhales slowly and shallowly, and motions for Doc to drag his mobility aid closer. Doc complies immediately.

The journey to the meeting room, like every other journey on the Hermit Craft, is long. It’s made even longer because of Ren’s inexperience with his aid, but Doc doesn’t dare to offer his help. They eventually end up in front of the elevator that Doc remotely called beforehand with his brain chip. When the doors open, Doc lets Ren wheel in first.

Ren is silent in the elevator. Doc tries to catch his expression, but his friend’s unruly hair blocks his vision. “We’re playing cards tonight.” He mentions.

“That’s what you do at every Amputee-Only Club meeting.”

Doc shifts his eye back to the elevator door. “…Correct.”

Ren doesn’t reply.

When the duo finally reaches the Club meeting room, Doc pauses outside for a moment instead of directing his brain to open the door like normal. He glances down at Ren again and murmurs, “if you don’t want to go back, or to your room or something, that’s—”

“It’s fine,” Ren interrupts. He sounds defeated. “We walked all the way here, so we may as well go.”

Doc activates the door without another thought.

The door slides open and reveals the club room. It’s small, smaller than the average community space on the Hermit Craft, but it feels warm. The soft yellow color painted on the walls matches pleasantly with the yellow of the couch cushions. Joe definitely was the one to orchestrate that. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner that’s set up to have nice views of outer space. Various game tables fill the rest of the room, a few surrounded by five chairs. Doc wonders if Ren will notice the new chair addition. Maybe he already had.

The most interesting part of the space, though, is the people within it. TFC is bundled up on the couch, snoring pleasantly and covered in at least ten blankets. His usual plate of cookies is already half eaten. Iskall is standing at the kitchen counter, fiddling with a teacup filled with a mysterious bright pink liquid. His outfit has a few suspicious-looking singe marks at the hem. Finally, Scar is sat at the poker table in the middle of the room, crossed legs resting on an adjacent chair. He’s sorting through a pile of yellow and orange chips. To Doc’s continued wonder, the stack of bright blue cards resting near Scar’s elbow have miraculously not been knocked onto the floor yet.

When the doors open, Scar and Iskall look over. Ren immediately shifts at Doc’s elbow. Doc waits a moment to let Ren speak if he wants to, but when his shorter friend remains silent, he clears his throat in a grinding noise and announces, unnecessarily, “We’re here.”

Scar is so excited that his eyes have turned into little slivers of green. “Ren, I’m so happy you decided to tag along!” He kicks one of the chairs out from the table and clonks his foot on it for emphasis. The blue cards wobble on the edge of the table but still refuse to fall. “Sit down! Iskall can get you something to drink. Have you ever played poker?” He leans forward with the question. “It’s difficult, but I think it’s fun!”

“Uh, I haven’t.” Ren replies awkwardly, still at the door alongside Doc. “I’ve never even heard of it before.”

“Yeah, I would be surprised if you knew about it. It’s one of those old-timey games from TFC’s era.” Iskall says from across the room. He is now by the couch and is gently patting TFC’s fluffy hair to wake him. “Don’t worry that you don’t know. We’ll teach you.”

Ren tries and fails to make a pointed noise of interest, but he still seems intrigued. Doc feels the knot in his chest loosen a little. He rolls his shoulders to relieve some tension and moves to sit down. By the time he turns his head to look back, Ren is already wheeling forward to join him but looks lost as to where he should sit.

“Howdy, Ren. Sit next to me so I can teach you, but I’ll only teach if you’re willing to listen.” TFC, now awake, grumbles good-naturedly as he heaves himself off the couch. With his large frame still wrapped in a dozen blankets, he looks like a huge bear compared to Iskall. Which is impressive, Doc thinks, since Iskall is nowhere near frail. TFC’s metal prosthetic clonks on the floor as he walks over to the poker table. As he sits down across from Scar, he says, “There’s no point in just sitting there and gawking at us. Grab a seat.” He uses his leg to nudge the chair to his left.

Ren blinks and maneuvers his aid to let him sit down next to the astronaut. TFC procures a blanket from his pile and offers one to him. Ren, after slowly settling in his chair, accepts the pink fuzzy blanket. Doc accepts a purple one.

TFC lances over to Ren as he saves the blue cards from the edge of the table. “Poker’s good fun. You’ll get it in no time.” He snorts and flicks his gaze to Scar, who is busy stacking the chips into a pyramid. “This one always makes sure we have a great, long game.”

Scar looks up and winces minutely in a false apology. “Sorry about that.”

TFC chuckles. “Boy, I’ve never had better games than when I play with you.”

Scar’s grin almost sparkles. TFC and Doc grin back and Iskall hides his laugh in his shoulder.

“Anyway, ready for your first game with us amputees?” TFC brings the conversation back to Ren, who suddenly looks a lot more uncomfortable.

“I,” he begins, his eyes flicking to TFC, then Doc, before looking down. “I, well, uh…”

The table is silent. Iskall is staring at the table with his hands in his lap. TFC sighs and begins shuffling the cards. Doc, as much as he wants to clear the air somehow, can’t seem to find a way to do so. Scar just looks sad. He looks right at Ren, almost through him.

Ren stares back, eyes wide.

“You don’t want to be here.” Scar says quietly, finally. It’s not a question. Ren’s choked response makes the ex-convex smile slightly. “You can say so, Ren. You’re not going to hurt our feelings. None of us want to be here. But, as much as we may want to, we can’t change what happened to us.” He falls silent again as he looks at a particularly twisted scar on the back of his left hand. He rubs at it harshly with the pad of his thumb before Iskall stops him. “This might be selfish,” Scar continues, softly, “but I’m happy that I at least don’t have to sit in here alone.”

For a long moment, the table is silent. Then, with a rush of noise, Ren makes a sound like he’s dying. In a certain way, Doc thinks, he is.

“I don’t want to be here,” Ren confesses as his open mouth contorts and tears roll down his face. “I don’t want to be here.”

All Doc can do is wrap his arms around everyone else, encasing Ren and his other amputee friends in his embrace, and wish he could do more.

[mieohmy]

𝖪𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝖪𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝖬𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝖥𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾? | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖩𝖾𝗇𝗈

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, slight angst, friends-to-lovers, beginning relationship! au, slice of life! au, boyfriend! jeno

WC: 2.8k

NOTES: none

SUMMARY: in which jeno tries (and sadly fails) to kiss you five times, but he’ll never give up -no matter how oblivious you may seem to his advances.

     ⇒ part of the five days a week special.

#1. 

Jeno doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Sure, you can develop an attraction or those flutters and all, but there’s none of that immediate, deep connection bull that some people talk about. 

So, it’s perfectly fine for him to say that after being in a month-long relationship, he really likes you. 

And no, it wasn’t one of those immediate pulls when he first laid eyes on you. Well, perhaps he did harbor a secret attraction that lasted for a while before he finally gathered the courage to ask you out after a year of being friends, but even so, jeno liked you then and he likes you even more now. 

He likes being in a relationship with you- occasionally doing some of those couple things together, getting used to being with one another in a different, more intimate way -simply enjoying each other’s presence. 

It’s only been a month of dating after all. 

“A month?”

“...yeah?”

“And you’ve known them for how long?”

Jeno scratches his head, recalling back as far as he can. It surprises him how little he’s actually known you compared to how long he feels like he’s known you. “Maybe a year or so?”

Haechan raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Have you kissed yet?”

“What? Um...... no?”

He suddenly sits up, eyes boring into jeno. “You haven’t kissed yet? And you’ve known them for that long?”

Jeno frowns, annoyed at himself for actually feeling self-conscious at first. “I mean, I just said we started dating around a month ago.”

“Dude, it’s just kissing. If I were them, I’d be worried if you still hadn’t kissed me- like maybe wondering if there was some deeper reason you didn’t do it yet.”

“Don’t you want to, though?” Haechan adds after a second thought. 

Or maybe it wasn’t dumb to feel that way.  

Jeno fidgets in his seat. “Maybe? Y-yeah, I guess. I never really thought about it yet, we’re kinda just going at our own pace..”

He knows haechan means no harm, but after that day, he can’t help but get nervous whenever he sees you, overthinking every single thing you do- wondering if it’s a sign that you want him to kiss you. 

Do you really want to? 

Are you waiting for him to kiss you? 

It’s consuming and distracting- it’s not hard for you to catch on that something's obviously bothering jeno. 

“Is there something wrong?”

Jeno automatically shakes his head, quickly taking your hand in his as you walk down the street together. 

“Nah, I’m fine.”

You glance at your joined hands before looking back at jeno. “You sure?”

He internally starts to panic, hands beginning to get sweaty. Is this a sign? Should he take the chance? 

Jeno licks his lips nervously, stopping you in the middle of the sidewalk. 

He quickly makes up his mind- he’s gonna do it now. 

To be frank, jeno didn’t have any clue what he was doing, especially not when you were staring up at him expectantly after he stopped the both of you randomly. 

Letting his instincts take over, he hopes that you catch onto his body language- one of his arms hovering behind you to bring you closer, eyes slowly closing and face moving closer in an attempt to find their way to yours. 

But while trying so hard, he failed to notice that you really hadn’t caught onto his signals. 

And to add onto that, as jeno leans closer and closer, unaware of what was really going on, someone calls your name from some places away and seeing how you’re already not paying attention to jeno’s advances, you turn away from him at the sound, searching for the source of your name being shouted. 

Which left jeno to lean farther and farther, wondering as to why he hasn’t come into contact with anything yet, only to open his eyes too late and find the ground much closer than it should’ve been. And, as expected, he abruptly loses his balance and stumbles to the ground as you quickly turn back around and gasp in horror at the sight. 

“Oh my god, jeno. Are you okay?!?”

He groans, still on the ground. Yes, he was perfectly okay, but after falling on his face after failing to kiss you in public, maybe he was a little hurt. (and a little embarrassed.)

#2.

Your face is so close to his, this must mean something, right?

It wasn’t jeno’s fault that he tried to give his cats a bath and they freaked out (as per usual), but this time, they, unfortunately, got the face. 

You immediately brought a hand to cup over your mouth after witnessing the bright pink scratches on jeno’s pretty face when he showed up at your door, present with a sheepish eyesmile. 

You practically dragged him in, forcing him to sit on the toilet seat as you obtained a first-aid kit. 

His breath hitches as you hover over him, leaning closer to his face, eyebrows furrowed as you concentrate intently on cleaning the scratches. Silence fills the bathroom as jeno tries his best to stifle hisses and sounds of pain- his cats were certainly cute but deadly. 

As he watches you work, eventually, his eyes flick down to your lips, and it’s the only thing he can focus on in sight as your face is so close to his, unmoving. 

Alarms go off in his head- this is another golden opportunity. 

He braces himself, this time making sure he isn’t going to slip off the toilet seat or anything beforehand, internally preparing himself as he begins to close the distance once more. 

“I’m done!” You say in such a satisfied and bright tone, it surprises jeno as he almost flinches and his eyes fly open, staring at you and trying his best to keep his mouth from dropping open. 

You stare back with a confused albeit cute grin, eyes wide and questioning at his sudden strange act. 

You must’ve not noticed, he thinks mournfully, watching as you pack up the first aid kit, unbothered. 

Jeno unconsciously sighs, following you out of the bathroom with a slight pout. Attempt number two, fail...

#3. 

After seeing how the last two attempts went, jeno contemplates just straight up asking if he could kiss you. 

If you weren’t able to catch on the last two times, maybe just simply informing you beforehand would be easier, right?

Famous last words. 

But it proves to be harder than he thinks. 

Much harder.

Throughout the whole time at your place together, eating dinner and watching movies, jeno just can’t do it. Every time there’s an open chance for him to ask you, he constantly chickens out. 

He watches you eat your food-not in a creepy way- smiling when he notices some food at the corner of your mouth. 

This is it. After helping you, hopefully, you get the memo, and then jeno can ask you -and it’s all smooth sailing from there. 

He finishes chewing before speaking up, taking his chance. “Y/n, you have something on your lips.”

You blink, trying to hide your embarrassment by quickly searching for your napkin. 

This is it. 

Jeno takes his own napkin, reaching over the table to help you. You freeze as he helps wipe your mouth, touch soft and gentle. 

Jeno pauses after finishing, looking into your eyes hesitantly. “C-can I ki-“

The sound of your phone ringing cuts through the air, and jeno can only stand there, dumbfounded, as you excuse yourself with an apologetic smile. 

He doesn’t even move an inch from his position, still hovered over the table towards your seat where you were sitting just a few minutes earlier until someone just had to call you and interrupt the moment. 

After finishing, you make your way back towards him, patting the top of his head, to which he unfreezes at. 

“Sorry jen, what were you about to say?”

He swallows, avoiding eye contact. It was too late, the moment was over. 

“Nothing, it wasn't important.”

If anything, he feels more embarrassed and more anxious afterward at how he failed to ask you such a simple question. 

After dinner, jeno joins you on the couch as you scroll through the list of movies and shows to watch tonight. 

“Hmm... what do you think?”

Jeno doesn’t reply, lost in his thoughts and still working up the confidence to ask you four mere words- 

can i kiss you? 

“Jeno?” You repeat his name several times until his head shoots towards you, eyes wide. “Yes? Did you say something?”

“Yeah, uh, is there a specific movie or show you wanted to watch?”

Jeno quickly shakes his head, offering you to choose for tonight. 

He bites his lip when you eventually find and start one, scooting closer to him and enjoying his warmth. But you don’t say anything, and jeno’s left alone to lose himself in his thoughts. 

And throughout the whole movie, his mind is far away, still trying to find the perfect moment to ask. But it doesn’t seem like there’ll ever be a perfect moment- not when you’re so focused on the movie and oblivious to your surroundings. 

When it seems like there’s finally a break part in the movie, jeno clears his throat. 

“H-hey, y/n...”

“Yeah?” You murmur distractedly. 

“I- uh, well,” he stutters. 

You finally turn, attention fully on jeno now. 

And he panics. “Uh-yeah, I need to use the restroom...”

He wants to punch himself as soon as those words leave his mouth. 

You cock an eyebrow, amused. “Okay? You can just go, you know, there’s no need to tell me.”

He shyly nods, face ablaze while hoping you can’t tell in the darkness of the room as he makes his escape.

Why is this proving to be so much harder than he thought? 

He gives himself a quick pep talk in the bathroom before coming out and returning to your side, letting out a sigh in the process. 

Meanwhile, as much as you were indeed invested in the movie, you didn’t fail to take note of jeno’s behavior. 

His body language and actions made it obvious that he wasn’t paying attention to the movie, leaving you to unconsciously pout. 

Jeno falters at the sight of your puckered lips- is this another one of your tricks or?

He’s obviously paying no mind to the movie- he had absolutely no clue what was even going on- but he goes for it, mouth opening to ask one last time, but you beat him before he can say anything. 

“Are you okay, Jen?”

He coughs awkwardly. “Huh? What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine?”

You glance from the animated screen and back to jeno. “I mean... it doesn’t look like you’re paying attention to the movie. Are you not enjoying it?”

Jeno abruptly protests, deciding to give up on the kiss for tonight and just focus on enjoying the time he has with you today. But he still can’t help but feel a sense of defeat and failure, like he wasn’t able to meet your or his own expectations. 

You frown, obliviously shaking your head with a sigh. Your jeno, too much of a sweetheart to just tell you the truth that he doesn’t like the movie..... 

#4. 

It’s been a while since jeno’s tried to do anything, although the thought has never left his mind. 

It’s always in the back of his head, getting more and more prevalent as time goes on with you. 

If you never mentioned anything about it, that must mean you don’t mind not having kissed yet, right? 

Right?

He shakes his head, trying to clear it of any thoughts and focus on cooking with you- which you randomly suggested one day for him to come over and help. 

You easily welcome him into your apartment, and jeno’s eyes automatically land on the couch in the living room- where his attempts to kiss you miserably failed just a few weeks ago. 

He swerves away, urging a startled you to the kitchen to start cooking.

“What are we making?”

You hum, tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. “I dunno, anything works.”

Jeno bites back a laugh, staring at you with an endeared gaze. “So you invited me over here not knowing what we were gonna eat?”

You shrug sheepishly, taking out matching aprons for you both to put on. “Well, you know I wanted to get better at cooking, plus I just missed you too so...”

He lets himself laugh at that, quickly helping you tie the back of your apron. He hesitates while finishing the knot, should he do it now? 

No, jeno thinks, be patient. It’ll happen when it happens. 

You decide on pasta- a simple recipe that you could easily learn and somehow had all the ingredients to in a non-cooking household. 

“Teach me your ways, master chef,” you joke.

He boops your nose with his finger, playfully guiding you to the sink. “Alright, my first task for my first apprentice.”

He places an onion on the table in front of you. “Wash and cut an onion.”

You nod determinedly, exhaling through your nose. “Okay, I got this.” 

He smiles adoringly, letting you start as he works on boiling the noodles. 

But he didn’t expect for you to call out, “I’m done!” a mere three minutes later, a satisfied look on your face. Jeno raises his eyebrows, making his way over to you. “You’re fast.”

You stand by your work with a proud grin. 

Jeno blinks. 

And you wait, slowly becoming more and more confused as jeno doesn’t say anything. 

“Y/n,” he slowly starts. 

“Yeah?”

“Did you not peel the onion?”

Your mouth drops to a surprised ‘o’. 

Jeno tries his hardest to hold it in, looking down at your disheveled mess of onion slices and biting his lip. 

But he can’t.

He bursts out laughing, instinctively bringing you closer to him as he wipes away his tears- from laughing or the onions he isn’t sure.

You stutter in his hold, trying to come up with a reasonable response, but eventually giving up and joining him in his flurry of laughter. 

He glances at you in the heat of the moment and the sight of you laughing so carefree, eyes sparkling, makes his breath hitch. 

And all of a sudden, he gets the urge to kiss you. 

And not fail this time. 

He gulps, pulling you even closer to him by the edges of your apron.

And your laughter slowly dies down as you realize the change in the atmosphere, jeno staring at you with a much more intense gaze than before. 

He leans in, slowly but with much more confidence now that your attention was actually on him. 

Your eyes widen before involuntarily closing, heart pounding. 

This is it, he thinks, slowly but surely closing the space between you two. 

And jeno feels the ghost of your lips on his-

before the doorbell rings. 

You jump back, startled and breathless, while jeno freezes, utterly astounded and speechless. 

He curses the delivery man, ringing on your doorbell with the wrong package for the wrong address. 

Needless to say, jeno went home defeated without a kiss that night. 

#5. 

Jeno has given up. 

So many failed attempts- it’s like the universe simply doesn’t want him to kiss you. 

The whole night when you’re all out together with your friends, he never leaves your side. 

And his gaze never leaves your lips, either. 

He tries to be discreet, hoping that you don’t notice, and jeno believes he has succeeded when by the end of the night, where everyone’s saying their goodbyes and leaving, you haven’t mentioned a single thing. 

When just about everyone’s gone, you pull Jeno back, causing him to let out a startled noise, watching you with a confused face. 

And then you plant both of your hands on either side of his cheek. 

Jeno’s insides start to churn, mind whirling. What’s going on? 

And his answer is in the form of a soft kiss on his lips.

You pull back a few seconds later, a determined look on his face.

“I know you’ve been trying to kiss me.”

His mouth drops open. 

“And if you wanted to do it so bad, you should’ve just said so.”

His brain malfunctions, trying to find the right words while also processing what just happened. 

“well... can we do it again then?”

✢

No, jeno still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. 

But whenever he lays his eyes on you- from the first time he met you as friends, until a year later in a happy relationship- jeno can say that without a doubt, he loves you. 

taglist: @skrtbabe @bluejaem @lanadreamie​ 

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[4stars-uswnt]

You Take My Heart Away [Kelley O’Hara x Reader]

requested by anon: Kelley O’Hara x reader where reader gets into a fist fight but she’s like I won’t throw the first punch bc I’ll finish it and like she gets teased by the team but Kelley is mad at reader for it bc R could’ve gotten hurt but it was still cool

requested by anon: Can we get another Kelley O’Hara x reader doesn’t have to be anything specific just maybe along the lines of them both being crazy and maybe oblivious

A/N: i decided to combine these two prompts! hope y’all enjoy it. also bonus points to anybody who gets the title reference (there’s a lil connection to a reference within the story)

warnings: homophobic and sexist language, violence, and swearing

Conversation was flowing and music was playing in the background of the bar, as the USWNT finished up their first round of drinks and appetizers. The team had pushed together a couple of tables, where you all were now sitting, laughing at each other’s jokes.

The air was light, victory and celebration filling the atmosphere. Megan and Ashlyn had been the ones to suggest a night out after your win against Japan, not only to celebrate the 2-0 victory but also to celebrate Lindsey’s birthday that was in the next couple of days.

You were currently sitting next to your best friend, Kelley O’Hara, bridging the gap between the veterans and the youngsters.

“Anybody want another drink?” Alex asks, pushing her chair back, as she moves to get up.

A chorus of yeses ring out, the team’s orders ringing out.

“I’ll help you with that, Al.” You stand up from your seat, giving the other woman a warm smile.

Once the two of you had left for the bar, the rest of the team began interrogating Kelley, who let her eyes follow you as you moved through the crowd.

“Kel,” Ash calls out over the noise of the music. “When are you gonna admit to (Y/N) that you’re hopelessly in love with her?”

“What?” Kelley sputters, flustered.

Megan rolls her eyes at the defender. “It’s so obvious that you’ve had a crush on her for the past like six years, and a blind person can see that she likes you too.”

“I- I’m not in love with (Y/N).” Kelley’s face flushes, as she rubs the back of her neck nervously. “She’s my best friend.”

“Kelley,” Christen softly chimes in,, hoping to talk some sense in her friend she’s known since college. “You guys obviously have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship, and you’ve been dancing around them for years. We just want you two to be happy.”

Many of the women nod and voice their agreement.

“But what if it ruins our friendship and I lose her forever?” The freckled defender bites her lip nervously.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Christen gives her a knowing look. “Even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, she’s not gonna cut you out of her life.”

“And Kel,” Tobin adds on. “You never know until you ask her. And who knows? The risk of putting your heart out there may be worth it. But you’re just gonna live in the dark haunted by the unknown and what ifs unless you tell her how you feel.”

“I hate that you’re philosophical insights are usually right,” Kelley huffs.

Meanwhile, as the team holds their intervention for your best friend, you and Alex were at the bar ordering another round of drinks.

As you were waiting for the bartender, you and Alex were engaged in your own conversation, when you hear a boisterous voice interrupt you.

“Hey! It’s Alex Morgan!” A large man approaches the two of you, holding a half-full cup of beer in his hand, and you have a feeling he’s downed a couple pints already.

You sense Alex tense up next to you, as she gives the stranger a tight smile. “Hello.”

“Oh, and who’s this?” He turns to you, a leering grin on his face, making your insides turn. You reach for Alex’s hand in search of comfort but also as a protective gesture.

“Is she your girlfriend?” The man looks back at the star forward. “I hear your entire team is full of d*kes, but I didn’t think you were one. You’re way too hot to be a d*ke.”

Alex’s grip on your hand tightens, as anger radiates off of her. “I’m actually happily married.” She raises her left hand to show off her ring.

“Woah.” The stranger lets out a low whistle, his eyes slowly widening before he squinting to get a better look, as his movements impaired by the alcohol. “That is quite the rock. How’d you afford that with your pay? I’ve heard all about your team’s fight for equal pay and all that. I personally think it’s a load of crap. You guys aren’t even that good at soccer, and it’s so boring. The only thing that makes your games interesting is your smoking hot bodies.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust at this man’s blatant misogyny. “I’m surprised you know about our equal pay fight. I’d think it’d be too complicated for your thick skull,” you quip, throwing the insult right in his face.

“Ooooo feisty, are we?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “And where do you get off calling me dumb?”

“I’m just calling them as I see them,” you simply state, letting go of Alex’s hand, as you move to stand in front of her protectively. “Where do you get off disrespecting women and being a bigot?”

“(Y/N/N), it’s not worth it,” Alex whispers in your ear.

“I’d listen to your friend,” the man sneers and stands up straighter, slightly sobering up. “Because I’m not afraid to hit a girl, especially a mouthy one like you. Women like you deserve to be put in your place.”

“Go on then,” you challenge, probably a stupid decision on your part, but the adrenaline is rushing and you are at your wits end with this man in front of you. “I dare you.”

You thank all the gods in the universe that the stupid stranger was actually stupid enough to try and throw a punch with his blood-alcohol level because you can see his punch coming from a mile away.

Before his fist can make contact with your face, you grab his hand and twist his arm, leaning in closely to his face. “Is that all you got? My mom hits better than you.” You smirk.

“Let go of me, you bitch,” he growls, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Wait, I have one more thing,” you call out.

“What the hell are you talk-”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, rather your fist cuts him off. The man in front of you had been testing your patience and had used up all your grace, which, in your opinion, warranted a punch in the face.

You can’t help but wince at the sharp pain shooting through your hand upon the contact, but the cracking sound of his nose eases some of your discomfort.

By now, the rest of the team had become worried by your prolonged absence and then had noticed the commotion this stranger was stirring. Hearing the raised voices coming from your direction, many of the veterans, including Kelley, Christen, Tobin, Ash, Ali, and Megan, made their way over to where Alex was currently holding you back from unleashing your anger on this drunk man.

“What is going on here?” Becky asks, surveying the situation in front of her.

“This asshole was insulting Al and then had the audacity to continue being a sexist pig,” you spit out, directing your words at the man, who was still holding his bloody nose, while Alex was doing her best to keep you under wraps.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Ashlyn states firmly.

As the goalie, along with Becky, Megan, and Ali, coax the stranger into leaving you alone, and hopefully leaving the club, Alex, Christen, Tobin, and Kelley try and calm you down.

“(Y/N/N),” Christen soothes, cupping your face. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.” The curly-haired forward inhales and exhales, motioning for you to mimic her actions.

You take a deep breath, and upon exhaling, you feel the tension, along with the adrenaline, leave your body.

“Shit,” you sigh. “My hand.”

You lift your right hand, revealing your split knuckles on which bruises were starting to form.

“Come on, Sylvester.” Tobin claps your shoulder, letting out an amused chuckle. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, and on the way, you can tell us all about your heroics.”

You amusedly roll your eyes and lean into the other woman’s side.

As the team gathers their things, ready to call it a night after the turn of events, Megan approaches you, holding out a bag of ice.

“Here, (Y/N), the bartender gave me this for your hand.”

“Thanks, P.” You place the cool ice on your knuckles, hissing at the temperature shock.

On the way back to the hotel, many of your teammates were interrogating you about what had happened back at the bar. After telling the entire story, you received many hoots and hollers from the rest of the team.

“Damn (Y/N)!” Ash whistles. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“Way to protect our honor,” Rose gushes, as many of the women nod along.

“Thank you, (Y/N), for defending me,” Alex says sincerely.

“Of course, Al. Anytime.” You give the forward a warm smile.

“Who knew (Y/N) could be such a badass?!” Emily exclaims with an impressed look on her face. “Kel, did you know that your best friend was a secret badass?”

While the rest of the girls had been teasing you about your heroic actions, your best friend had been oddly quiet.

“News to me.” Kelley answers shortly, her face hard and distant. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering if the defender was mad at you. You thought she would’ve been proud of you for standing up for the team and putting a sexist douchebag in his place.

Before going back to entertaining your teammates’s jokes and questions, you make a mental note to talk to her once you get back to the hotel, silently thanking Vlatko for rooming the two of you together this camp.

You would never in a million years admit it, but you were harboring a huge crush for your best friend, had been for the past six years, ever since you’d joined the national team. Not only did you not want to ruin your friendship and end up losing Kelley, but you knew she would never return your feelings.

Over the past several years that you’d been friends with the defender, you’d seen Kelley go in and out of relationships, and comparing yourself to her other girlfriend’s, you had a feeling you weren’t her type.

You also had reservations due to the fact that Kelley was your teammate, and you didn’t want to change the team dynamic, especially if the two of you didn’t work out.

Thoughts of Kelley clouded your mind all the way back to the hotel, only further exacerbated by her deafening silence.

Upon arriving to the hotel lobby, before you all disperse to your rooms, Alex gives you another hug and thanks you again, and Becky, ever the mother of the group, gives you a warning.

“Make sure to ice on and off. 20 minutes. You know the drill, (Y/L/N). Kelley, make sure she takes care of that hand.”

“Don’t worry about me, Becks. I got it,” you reassure the veteran defender, giving her a mock salute.

Following Kelley, you cautiously enter the hotel room. You nervously watch the other women move around the room, as she silently goes about her usual nighttime routine. Taking the hint that she wasn’t going to talk to you anytime soon, you go about your own routine and get ready for bed.

After about twenty minutes later, after both of you had showered, you were finishing wrapping your hand and were about to get into bed, when you noticed Kelley discretely staring at your bandaged hand.

Unable to tolerate the silence anymore, you break the tension. “Okay, what is up with you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Kel,” you sigh, plopping down on the side of her bed. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder ever since what happened at the bar. Are you mad at me?”

“Nope. Not mad,” Kelley hums slightly passive aggressively, still not looking up from her book.

You roll your eyes, frustrated by your best friend’s childish behavior. “Kelley, I know when you’re lying, and I know that you’re mad at me right now, so would you please just look at me?!”

Sensing the exasperation and frustration in your voice, Kelley closes and sets down her book. “Fine, you’re right. I am mad at you.”

You thought you’d feel relieved, hearing her confirm your suspicions, but instead, the pressure in your chest increases.

“Why? What did I do?” You practically beg, scooting up the bed, so you’re closer to the other woman.

“As if you don’t know,” she scoffs.

Confused, you tilt your head. “I clearly don’t. Kel, please talk to me, tell me what I did.”

“You literally punched a dude in the face!”

“Yeah, but he deserved it, Kel! You heard the things he was saying,” you defend. “I couldn’t just let him get away with talking about our team like that. I thought you’d be proud of me for standing up to a sexist asshole like him.”

“I am proud, sort of. I mean that was completely badass and totally warranted, not that I necessarily expected that from you, and I’m glad you put him in his place,” Kelley babbles. “But that’s not the point, (Y/N/N). You were reckless tonight. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Your face softens at her outburst. Taking a deep breath, Kelley confesses, “I love you, (Y/N). I’m in love with you, and I just can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, especially by some drunk idiot who doesn’t know shit about football or respecting women.”

Your eyes widen and your heart practically stop, when you process the words that have come out of your best friend’s mouth.

“(Y/N), please say something,” Kelley begs.

“You’re in love with me?” You test the words on your mouth.

“Yeah,” she sighs contently, giving you a soft smile. “Have been for the past eight years.”

“Gosh, we really are idiots.” You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, Kel,” you rasped, your voice laced with pure emotion. “I’ve loved you since my first camp.”

“Wow,” Kelley scoffs, an amused grin playing on her face. “Are we really that oblivious?”

“Apparently so.” You shrug. “But we’re here now.”

“Yeah, we are.” The freckled woman softens. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly, leaning in to meat the other woman’s lips. The kiss is nothing like you’d dreamed of; it’s better. It’s soft and tender, full of love and passion. You melt into each other, as your lips move together in harmony.

Not wanting things to get too heated, especially not before you’ve talked about what this meant for the future of your relationship, you pull away, resting your forehead against hers.

“Hi,” you whisper, smiling like a fool.

“Hey,” Kelley murmurs softly, returning your smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She takes your hand, kissing your wrapped knuckles. “But please don’t be getting into any more bar fights.”

“Hey! I would never start a fight, however I have no problem finishing them.” You smirk, boasting slightly triumphantly.

Kelley rolls her eyes playfully, but then looks into your eyes. “I mean it, (Y/N). I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. So no more fights alright?”

“I promise, Kel.” You give her a chaste kiss.

“Good.”

That night, you stay in Kelley’s bed, cuddling into her side. As you slowly drift into a peaceful sleep, you notice the woman next to you is already fast asleep.

You sigh contently, and you can’t help but feel extremely lucky that even after all these years, and everything that’s happened, life still led you to this woman and a love worth fighting for.

[deepseavibez]

Blindspot || KTH

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Blindspot [Taehyung x Reader]

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Genre - Best Friend; Fear of the Future; Nighttime Memories; Mixed Feelings;

Summary - She believed in more. In better. In bigger. That life was out there waiting to be grabbed with both hands. He's made it his sole purpose to remind her that simple moments were beautiful and meant to be enjoyed... and maybe, she would realize he was one of them.

Warning - (Slight) Angst; Anxiety; Unsure feelings; Fear of the Future; Fluff; Comfort;

Word Count - 4.7k

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🎶 - I'm Fine - BTS

TAE

‘Tae.’

‘Y/n?’ He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the time, ‘it’s 3am babe.’

‘... I'm sorry for waking you. Sorry. Go back to sleep, it's okay.’

‘Hey, no, no, I'm awake.’ Sitting up, he switched the phone to his other hand and rubbed at his eyes, ‘What's going on.’

‘It’s not important, I swear,’ he could hear her trying to mask her shakiness over the phone. ‘You can go back to sleep.’

He wouldn’t call her out on lying. He knew better than anyone when y/n was in a bad way. Once he asked her, specifically him, what was wrong, she would crumble and he wasn’t there to catch her right now. ‘Y/n. Come on, talk to me.’

‘I can't sleep.’

‘Yeah, no shit,’ he yawned back.

‘I'm so sorry for waking you.’ He could hear the trepidation in her voice.

‘You know better than to apologize for something like that, ‘ he chastised. ‘Babe, tell me about it. Was it a bad dream? Something keeping you up?’

----------

Y/N

You could hear shuffling over the phone as you searched for an answer. It was hard to put certain emotions into words. You only knew you needed to phone Tae, regretting it too late, when he actually answered. ‘I'm not sure,’ you started awkwardly, ‘I guess. I just don't know where I'm going.’

‘Do you plan on leaving me anytime soon?’ Already pulling your leg, he got you to roll your eyes.

‘No, of course not. I just mean, like, metaphorically.’

Things were a bit...confusing right now.

It had been a long time since you last had to deal with emotions this strong. The voices, getting harder to ignore. You had enough outside negativity to deal with, like family and some friends, all having this certain expectation from you.

It was new for you to rebel, to be who you wanted to be and feel how you wanted to feel without consequences. Choosing a life you solely strived toward, negating the tiny voice in your head saying you were wasting time and you were running out of time and you were not enough.

‘I don't know what I want to do, Tae!’ You burst out, the build up too long, the burden too heavy. ‘I don't have plans. I have a great job, I do. But I don't want to be a PA for the rest of my life and I don't know where to start, where to look, how to choose what I want to do.

I don’t have it figured out, it hasn’t fallen onto my lap, and when I look, I feel like I’m going to waste even more time looking.’

‘Y/n, you know you have a lot more figured out than you give yourself credit for.’ The huskiness of his sleep-leaden voice, comforted you. ‘You have money, a routine stable job, you've worked you way through university and graduated with honors.’ Taehyung did it without effort and he knew you would hear his gruff tone above all others, in a crowd, in a panic, as a voice of reason.

‘I know, and I keep trying to remind myself of that, but it’s just become unbearable. I am running out of time.’ Struggling to remain composed you spoke into the phone as if he was right here, ‘What if I'm still here in ten years, Tae? What if I don't ever figure out my purpose? What if I'm meant to just work and then die? I haven't lived! I haven’t seen the world. I’ve made everyone proud and now I’m the black sheep. I prefer it, It's just-,’

The sound of keys jangling cut you off.

‘Tae,’ you asked tentatively, confusion evident.

‘Hmm.’

‘What are you doing?’ You asked when he provided no further explanation.

‘Are you in pj's right now?’

‘Uh,’ you looked down at your white vest and underwear, just to make sure, ‘yeah, why?’

‘Miss y/n, I didn't know you slept in the nude.’

The protests left you immediately at his teasing, slithering heat under your skin at the very notion. ‘Tae! I am not sleeping in the nude, I have underwear on.’

‘Uh huh, what color are they?’ Your cheeks flamed in embarrassment. You could imagine his smirk, that dumb cocky, arrogant smirk.

He laughed, the sound gruff, infuriating you more, and causing you to giggle back. Because you were the butt of the joke, and you liked his laugh too much. Trying to be mad at him, even when play-fighting or harmless bantering, Taehyung, not a chance.

‘Listen,’ a seriousness settling between you, ‘get dressed, just sweatpants, and a shirt.’

‘Wait, what, why,’

‘Baby, listen for once. Just get dressed and give me five minutes.’

You looked at the blank screen, stunned. Your brain stuck at the word baby, and the effect it had. Your insides were mush, anxiety mollified, despite not knowing what he was about to do next.

‘Babe’, you knew, ‘babe’, you understood, that was normal, routine, best friend. But Baby?

You mulled over it as you discarded your vest, and threw on a loose Celine shirt. Pulling on your black sweats, a pair of socks and air force ones because who knows what this boy was up to, you stopped. You sniffed, once, twice, yep, that was Taehyung’s body wash, but what - oh, you tugged the loose collar toward your nose, yep, this was Tae’s shirt.

You composed yourself, almost deadpan at the small realization. When had he even stripped in your room and why weren’t you there.

Wrapping your messy hair into a bun, you restrained your mind from wandering further.

Your phone beeped from the bed and the screen lit up, a message popping up. ‘Look out your window.’

Peeping out you saw his black Jeep in your driveway. He popped his head out of the driver’s side window and did a two finger salute.

Shaking your head with a smile, you grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs through the house and out the front door.

‘What are you doing here,’ you asked as soon as he came into view. He looked good, white tee, black sweatpants, you matched, except for his leather jacket and red bandana.

He opened the passenger door on your side and leaned back, giving you a once over. His lips twitched as he rested his eyes on the shirt you wore. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted you in his shirt. You raised your eyebrow playfully, refusing to give life to something like butterflies and heart-eyes when your best friend stood in front of you. Life was complicated enough.

‘You needed me to show up.’ He said it a matter-of-factly, but you knew he wanted to be there for you and you couldn’t, not feel grateful, and a little warm, that he would get into his car drive to you, all because you needed him to.

Not waiting for you to reply, he threw a jersey at you. ‘Its cold,’ his tone left no room for protest and he cocked his head toward the jeep, a sign to get in.

You wrapped it around you silently, not moving, not yet.

‘Well,’ his thumb curled around the top of the steering wheel as the rest of his fingers straightened out, his freehand rising to follow his question, ’Come on, get in.’

‘Where are we going?’ You would have gotten in, you would probably end up wherever he was going to take you anyway, but where was the fun in doing everything obediently. Even puppies had wild streaks.

He raised his eyebrow this time, a smirk teasing his cheek, 'You're brave every night, y/n. But not tonight, not while you're with me, come, trust me, wherever we go I'll keep you safe.'

You turned to close and lock the front door, breathing out slowly, as slow and low as you could, doing your best to work on the constriction around your heart; his words too wiry, too strong, too genuine to forget, too deep to ignore. It made you so... agreeable.

Getting into the Jeep, you felt different as you sat here now, in a seat you had been in too many times to count. It was probably the time and the circumstances. Yeah, some shifts were just because of the time, and the air and because it was silent and the dead of night.

You said nothing more, even though a few minutes earlier you spoke into the phone like you would explode if you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, you would be alone in your head, if you weren’t able to make him understand.

You jumped slightly, as you felt his hand close over yours, and pull it toward him to brush his lips along your knuckles. It was an absent action, maybe, because he stared straight ahead, didn’t spare a glance at you as you stared at the side of his head, making it look like he wasn’t even aware he was doing what he was doing.

Swallowing against the pounding of your heart, you chalked this up too. Night time was vulnerable, everyone was just a little more sensitive, you didn’t have to make it more than it needed to be.

Looking out the window you noted the lights and dark windows, empty parks and streets, doing your best to ignore the heat against your hand, the breath against your knuckles, lips not very far away, that were capable of a lot more.

With some effort, you faded out the intensity of his actions, and as your eyes adjusted you saw familiar figures, and buildings you had driven past numerous times. You knew where you were going.

He pulled up in the parking lot of his safe haven. In retrospect, your safe place should be entirely different, but you were safe with Tae, that said, his peace was where you found yours.

Jumping out of the Jeep, you noted how dark and looming the two story building looked. A huge sign reading 'Blindspot' the only posh part about this place, black metal roller doors, spray painted names across the walls, some of the neon colors standing luminescent against the moonless night.

One would think it was graffiti, but the community knew better, the ones that came and went, some that stopped and never left, knew having your name on the wall was a privilege.

He jumped out too, after grabbing something from the back. Carrying it toward you, you noted his knapsack, and a box of some sort.

Handing it over to you to hold, you took hold of them silently, as he pulled out the keys to open the locks and deadbolt.

You watched him, his actions purposeful but he was at home, knowing which way the locks turned, the catch on the bolt needing to be kicked out a certain way before opening fully; he'd done this a thousand times before.

Lifting up the shutters, the noise too loud for the silent night, he opened the door and guided you in, making you all too aware of his palm in the small of your back. Taking the stuff from your hand and throwing it onto the edge of the ring and he lifted up to close the shutters behind you.

You took notice of the extra shirt that falls out of the pile on the ring, one of your favorites of his actually, grey with black spots, sort of like a giant cookies and cream oreo mix.

The empty gym in front of you was a contrast to the busy days it had. There was a weight section, the bags lined up against the far wall hanging still, having no impact thrown at it to sway the dead weight, and the machines had their own floor upstairs, treadmills overlooking the balustrades to the floor below, by the ring where you stood.

The pool area, directly below you, in the basements where the changing rooms and showers could be found.

It looked small on the outside, but inside there were stories to be told, motivation, encouragement, brotherhood, friendships solidified in stone and a fair share of violent memories with broken bones, broken bonds and broken hearts.

Walls were packed with quotes, anatomy teachings and pictures, schedules, a dedicated to growing trophy case with medals and newspaper clippings, and pictures of staff, members, and the boss, with his best friend.

What Tae didn't continue, was the stereotype of the grunge masculine look that came with gyms. Outside may be black as night, but inside there was color everywhere - a world within.

The punching bags were each a different shade, green, red, yellow and blue. The ring bottom was black, neon orange ropes running along the sides in three consecutive lines, and your personal favorite, a giant pride flag hung on a hook outside his office door.

Toxic masculinity wasn't allowed in Taehyung's gym. You could be yourself, make your own lifestyle choices and still be a good fighter or just work-out. He took it upon himself to punch the teeth out of anyone that thought otherwise. This was what he'd always wanted to do and he made it more than just a place to get healthy.

There were four hours, two for the morning, two for the afternoon, catered only to women. Tae understood that men will be men, no matter how much you tried to change it. And comfort mattered.

Working out and exercising, as much as it seemed, like a chore, it could be enjoyable. It could be a social setting, helping people to open up, and cope, providing the best way for them to be themselves.

You helped him find a premises, helped him choose color schemes, and sat in on interviews. For legal purposes you were an advisor and owned a small share percentage. You didn't want it, but Tae insisted, you were especially grateful when the gym grew into more than you both had expected it to become.

'Y/n,' he waved his hand in front of your face, the action snapping you out of your thoughts.

'Huh, sorry, did you say something?'

He smiled comfortingly, 'Take the jacket off and your shoes.'

Scrunching your eyebrows, you finally asked, 'Tae, what are we doing here?'

'We are,' he started explaining as he ripped open a box in his hand, 'doing something I feel you need.'

Looking at you pointedly, he motioned his eyes to the jacket.

Shucking it off, you took off your shoes and redid your bun for good measure.

'It's strange isn't it,' you voiced out loud. He perked up at your food for thought, fingers fiddling with white tape. 'It's strange, that I know every corner of this place, but I haven't ever put a pair of gloves on.'

He raised his hand absently, a student raising his hand to give an answer, his gaze focused on yours as he did. 'That's because you've never had the need to, I'm here to protect you.'

Turning away, you caught yourself, before you let your heart show in your eyes. You've known Tae for so long, been his best friend for years, why now, why this feeling, this tightness in your chest.

You played it off, and walked over to him, socked feet padding against the wooden floor boards.

Taehyung clicking his tongue startled you out of your effort to feel normal; you found him staring at your socks.

'Y/n, I've told the guys this numerous times, you can't spar in the boxing section with socks. It's a slipping hazard.' No trace of the out of the blue romantic words, he bent down easily removing them from your feet one after the other.

It would be weird, if you weren't already so used to his skinship, his cuddling when he slept over, his hand straying over your shoulder on the couch, or brushing against your waist when he passed you. Yet, his thumb, on your ankle, his hand as he circled and held it, even for just the moment that he laid your foot down after taking off the sock, you felt… taken.

You wanted to snort, the wording completely off, I mean, he had a right over you, always had but-

He came into focus, looking up at you from where he sat, and asked lightly,' Do you wash these.'

Your mouth dropped open, as you watched him hold your purple socks in between two fingers, like it would bite him, or the smell would.

Your knee nudged at the side of his face playfully as you reached to pull him up. He took your socks, holding them properly now and put them in his bag, picking up the white tape he was fidgeting with earlier.

'So, will I be sparring with you today?' You were excited now. You had watched people vent and let themselves be free as they learned technique, let themselves be violent without consequences, the satisfaction on their faces after their sessions.

When he finally reaches you again he finds the catch and opens it out. White athletic tape, used to make arms and wrists stiffer, and to provide better grip, even with sweat and slick.

'No, not today. Let's focus on getting you worked up and tired. If you enjoy it, I'll gladly let you go toe to toe with me.' His eyes held a challenge, an underlying meaning evident.

Offering your hands up freely, he taped your wrists and fingers, you've seen him do it many times, just never on your wrists. Experimentally you shook out your fingers and bent and scrunched your wrist to allow for the right amount of tightness.

'Cocky, aren't you, Mr. Kim,' you side-eyed him.

He leaned into you, his breath teasing yours, 'I am the Coach here, y/n.' You blinked at the nervous fluttering in your chest, his intimidation, usually not directed so closely to you, doing something you couldn't explain, couldn't quite grasp.

Somehow, you should be scared, but it was, hot.

Leaning into him, breath for breath, you matched up, 'Then teach me.'

A slow smile broke out over his lips, playful Tae was back, it let you navigate things easier, you knew what to expect.

'So, I'm boxing the bag,' you deduced. 'I don't see why I need to tire myself out. I don't know how to do this.'

His palms closed over your cheeks, puffing your face up, emphasizing your pout. 'You are frustrated. You can't do anything about any of your emotions tomorrow, y/n. You have to be patient. You have to remind yourself it's a day at a time that gets you to your future. It will always be about patience.'

'Unfortunately, patience is overrated at something to 4am,’ you complained as he let go of your face and bent down to produce a new set of gloves from under the ring. Opening the zip of the bag, he pushed one toward you.

Shaking his head at your antics, not even phased, he strapped the gloves to both your hands and walked toward a bag. 'Come on, try it.'

'Color?'

'The yellow one.' He made to stand behind the bag you chose, and held either side of it, knees bent slightly in a defensive stance.

Feeling slightly out of place, and awkward, you huffed and punched the bag just to humor him.

You stared at it. The fucking thing didn't even move.

He burst out laughing at the comical look on your face.

'Okay, wait no,' he composed himself and came around you. His breath fanned your neck, giving you goosebumps, as he held your wrists and showed you how to punch. 'So straighten your elbow, like this, and pull it back in and see how the gloves are shaped, your forefingers curl above your thumb, so inside your glove your thumb shouldn't be in the fist.'

Nodding as you took in the new information, you did your best not to get distracted as he continued, all too comfortable in his element.

'When your wrist hits the bag don't curl it, let it face the impact head on. See, this is how you do it, so you don't break your wrist.' He made you punch the bag and showed you where your wrist was bending and how to keep it tight.

'Alright, baby,' that word, that goddamn word, 'you good to try again?'

Closing your eyes and swallowing hard, you nodded in answer and shook your head out of the Tae trance.

'Start with a simple combo this time, Jab, Jab, Uppercut, Hook.' You knew the names and their directions. Jab was straight forward, twice fast on the submissive hand as a set-up, the uppercut from downward into the abdomen or chin, depending, and the hook, from the dominant hand rounding off on the face.

'Think of it all y/n,' he encouraged, as he walked to his original position, 'the people, the words, the expectations, the beating up of yourself you do on a daily basis, and just go for it.'

Spreading your legs in a stance, aiming at the bag on his command, you clenched your fists and focused.

'Go'

----

'And breathe.'

Breathing heavily you fell flat to the floor, and stared up at the ceiling.

Sweat was in your eyes and your hair, but despite being in dire need of a shower, you felt oddly at ease. Tiny zings of exertion shot through your body as your lungs begged for air and you heard your blood rushing.

The roof was really pretty you thought, the wood positioned in long blocks to form and hold up the gable, grabbing your attention for the first time ever.

You blinked as Tae's face came into view, his hands resting on his knees.

He smirked cutely as he brushed your sweat slicked hair out of your eyes and off your face before reaching down to pick you up off the floor.

Handing you a water bottle, you let him manhandle you as he lifted your form to sit on the edge of the ring, launching himself up to sit next to, a second later.

'How do you feel?' He was proud of himself no doubt, after all, his plan did succeed.

You made a face at him, anyway.

'Hey,' he put both his hands up in mock surrender. 'It worked, didn't it.'

You cut him some slack, this time. 'Yeah, I feel icky, but definitely less worked up.'

---------

🎶 - Black Swan - BTS

TAE

Taking a swig of the water you had opened in your hand, he looks at the top of your head as he closes it and puts it away.

'Hey.'

She looks up at him, eyes hooded in exhaustion.

He smiles at her. Despite how much he loved her spitfire, she's adorable when she's not talking back.

He knew of the thoughts that crawled up her spine on a daily basis. He knew she had no plan, and it made her hyper that she didn't have one, but she couldn't make one because, what if she chose wrong.

He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to tell her that she could be whatever she wanted to be, and he would fly her across the ocean if she really wanted it; that she didn't need to worry about life so much because he would always take care of her.

'You're too sad.'

She scrunched her eyebrows at him.

'You have the whole weight of the world on your shoulders and you can't do anything about it.' He chose his next words carefully. 'I wish you could take a breather, and let a thought be a thought instead of picking it apart.'

He held up his hand to her when she made to protest.

'You know, things may not feel okay right now, with work, or at home, and in your head. But I've never seen someone adapt like you have. You bounce back, despite how much grit it takes.'

He took the gloves off her hand and carefully unwinded the tape on her fingers.

'I don't have answers y/n. But I do know you have me for a long time and I'm going to be here as you do your thing.'

Placing pressure on each finger he massaged the tightness out of it and flexed it for her.

'I don't know where you're supposed to go, if you were meant to leave and give me a round-the-world heartbreak, I'm not sure who you're supposed to be, I don't even know if you have a higher purpose, it wouldn't surprise me if you did, but you, y/n,' he heaved a sigh as he faced her, his gaze meeting hers, his next words the most important thing she'd need to remember,' you're a good you.'

As he met her eyes, her breath hitched. He heard it. He could see the flush in her face. He knew he was being honest. He knew he meant every word.

A half smile, a heavy acceptance, hands that were so easy to hold, eyes that were never anything but honest, a bond that all but forced a person to keep swimming. That was Taehyung to y/n. And that was y/n to Taehyung.

'You're a really, good you,' he reinforced. 'Right now, it works. I have a feeling it will work for a very long time.'

'I'm scared.' He could hear it in her voice. He heard it back when she was in her room too.

'Nothing is really set in stone, babe. And even though it does feel like you're running out of time, it's something you can't help. It's not what you want to hear but it's true.'

'How do I stop being sad?'

She was deflecting. But he had said it before, it wouldn't be gone tomorrow. Her anxiety and her fears, they will probably never go away.

She had the right way to go about it though. You get through it. Somehow. Some days it's a good cry, some days it's with a punching bag, and some days, it was with a best friend.

'See, now that's why you have me.' He answered confidently, as he put his chest out, his need to have her be okay, her smile, her laugh, his only intentions, his favorite thing these days.

'Oh really, you, why, because you're a clown.'

He feigned offense at the statement. 'Excuse me, I am not a clown, ask anyone that comes in for the 5am rush.'

She looked up at the clock in shock, it was really going half-four. She turned back to him sadly, 'I kept you up all night.'

'It was a fun night,' he replied, the teasing of many other ways to keep him up on the tip of this tongue, deciding against it, he looked away from her. 'You needed me, no amount of sleep is worth that.'

He didn't explain himself, he really didn't mind the lack of sleep. He could easily catch a nap in his office, or head home after half a day. But this, this moment with his best friend, that he wanted to be more, he knew he wouldn't choose to be anywhere else. He knew he'd do it over again too.

Pushing off the ring he grabbed the knapsack and handed her his shirt. 'Change out of that shirt, and use this one, you'll catch a cold, because of the sweat. And let's get you home, you need a hot shower, and sleep. I'll drop by for dinner after work too.'

Finally turning to her, he found she hadn't moved an inch, unshed tears in her eyes. Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her toward him, sweat and all, and held her in his arms. 'You're first y/n, you'll always be first.'

A tender kiss on her head, his words rendering her speechless, and he knew uncharted waters were on the horizon.

This night, things that he'd said, the ways in which she responded, it was going to shift things for them.

But silence was comfortable for them. And she drank his share of coffee while he ate her share of pineapple, because he couldn't stand coffee and she hated pineapple. And he could hold her in his arms and she'd use his shirt while they slept.

It would start small, but he'd show her, the future was bright, she was deserving of more than she understood, she would be protected from her family and expectations and she would learn to remember, purpose or no purpose she wasn't alone, she never would be again.

[chanluster]

non ducor duco | {m}

oneshot | historical! au | gang! au | 15.2k words 

“The most notorious gang leader in Victorian London can gouge out the eyes of men, steal from the corrupted rich, and terrify an entire city, but cannot figure out a few complicated feelings with you.”

s u m m a r y >> the leader of the sons of seoul, the wanted criminal mastermind, christopher bang, has the courage to commit any deed save for confronting you, his most trusted accomplice, about his feelings. however, when opportunity arises, in the shape of an invitation to a grand seasonal ball, to take down his fated enemy, he takes you to the heart of a lavish estate, both of you unaware of actions that occur inside, and after the mission.

w a r n i n g s >> gonna be using chris instead of chan cause it’s set in 1860s london, chan is a dom of course, jisung and changbin are dumb and dumber, are also massive cockblockers, some cliché scenes cause i’m a sucker for them, sexual! tension!, gore, foul language, making out, dirty talk, aggressiveness, semi-public fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, chan has a thing for being called his korean name, whack spelling for ‘cum’ as ‘come’ cause technically that word didn’t exist in 1860s, there is a plot so there will be build up

a / n > > so i went way over the 10k originally planned lmfaoooo but i hope y’all enjoy this oneshot! i worked my ass off on it and hopefully y’all can appreciate gang leader chan in 1860s london cause honestly i’m a 100% whore for that concept

back to masterlist

IT WAS A UNIVERSAL LAW THAT ONE MUST NEVER FUCK WITH CHRISTOPHER BANG. EVER.

Whatever charge you may have against him, it must be withdrawn. Whatever he had done to you — robbed you, murdered your son, destroyed your entire existence — it did not matter. There were always limits, and trying to challenge this specific criminal would only result in your undoing.

It seemed the target, cornered before you and the very man himself, did not fully understand this order.

Chris Bang, in all his midnight suited glory, took a step towards the cowering man, the ends of his longcoat trailing him in the air. His gloved hands locked behind his back, a grave curve of his lips as he addressed his next victim. “Mr. Shaw, we know you have the documents.”

This said Mr Shaw hastily shook his head, raising his hands in immediate surrender. “Please, Mr. Bang,” he whimpered. “I have no inkling of what you speak of!”

“Don’t you dare lie!” You interjected, sliding out your knife, pointing it towards him. “We received reports of you. Don’t you dare forget the monthly checks we’ve sent for its safekeeping!”

“I was taking care of it, Miss!” He backed further, until the wall of his office stopped his escape. “They came to the office though.”

“Who did?!” You demanded, but the way Chris’s hand fisted in irritancy answered your question.

The Mayor had taken their shares. Once again, the tyrant had robbed them off their fortune. 

“Mr. Shaw,” the man beside you started. The raw, dark matter in his voice had the owner’s eyes widening in pure fear. “Who was it specifically?”

“A really large man, about seven foot for sure…God, he had cuts all over his face, slight stubble,” he answered, knees slightly shaking. “Please, Mr. Bang, I have a family, children who have not grown—”

“Why is it that whenever man is at his weakest he mentions his loved ones?” A few stray locks escaped from Chris’ raked hair, caressing the ragged scar from his brow down to his cheek. “Why do you think that I’ll suddenly take pity because you have others who will mourn your existence?”

These questions had the man collapsing, leaning completely against the wall for support. You stole a glance at Chris, wondering if he was now capable of extracting the very souls from men. “Do not keep toying with me, Shaw,” he warned, leaning in slightly. “I know you have information.”

A soft, helpless whine escaped from the owner of the building. “Then-they'll kill me,” he mumbled, looking up at the criminal with desperation. It was a shame that never worked on a man with no sympathy.

“I can kill you too,” Chris countered, and in a flash a sleek, pocket knife appeared in his gloved hand, and hovered it right under Shaw’s chin. “So how about you tell me what you know, and I can prolong your imminent end, hmm? Does that seem fair enough?”

You almost felt sorry for the man. “H-his men…” tears formed in his eyes. “His men kept calling him Carter.”

“Brilliant,” you muttered. ‘Scar’ Carter, the Mayor’s link to the crime world, the dirty dealings of London. Carter, the lapdog of the socialites. The most irritating, disgusting son of a bitch you had ever encountered.

“I see.” The knife stayed, caressing the manager’s skin. “Now I know they’re to sell the documents. The bastard is greedy.

“Question is, Shaw, where is the transaction going to take place?”

Dear God, the man looked as if he was about to piss his trousers. “The ball.” He tried to gulp, but felt the curve of the blade. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a masquerade ball in a few days, and Carter already had a client. They’re going to do the dealing there, I swear on my children!”

A harsh scoff emitted from the criminal. “You better hope for the sake of your sons that you aren’t lying.” 

“Did you get the invitations?” You asked, eyes darting around the dirtied room, the messy desks and chairs lopsided from your searching. 

“Yes, yes!” He pointed to a set of drawers. “There are two in there!”

You walked towards the destination, opening the drawers and sure enough, finding the gold-edged enveloped, addressed to Shaw and his wife. “Are your names inside too?”

“No, just the envelope, but that is not important! I promise!”

You pocketed the invitations inside your coat pocket, joining your leader’s side again. Chris, after a minute of heart-wrenching silence, stood up, freeing Shaw’s neck from the knife, sliding it within his belt.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” His eyes were still upon the man when he said, “Let us return.”

The both of you were ready to leave when you heard Shaw’s sudden protests.

“The Sons of Seoul, everybody!” He declared, almost hysterically. “Coming in, fucking everything up, and leaving as if nothing had ever happened!”

Chris paused in his tracks, a quiet stillness passing over his whole figure. 

“What are you going to do now, Mr. Bang?” He hissed, slowly sliding up. “Are you going to infiltrate the biggest ball of the season? Create a bloodbath on the dance floor? It’s what you love to do so ardently, no?”

You heard the harsh spit smack on the office floor. “Stop meddling with the business of the British socialites. Go back to the gutter you crawled out of.” The next words overflowed with hatred. “Go back to where you really came from, you slit-eyed prick.”

Your eyes flashed in shock, swerving around to see the raging expression on Shaw’s beady little face. Fisting your hands, you were ready to knock him out when you felt the man beside you move.

Chris whirled around, eyes promising a horrifying future as he pounced upon the manager.

A yelp was heard as Chris’ fingers dug at the corner of Shaw's eyes, and relished the cries of terror as with a roar of his own, he squeezed with his thumb and forefinger, swelling the balls of vision from their sockets. With a loud pop! the two eyes tore from their origins, gooey residue trailing down his face as Christopher Bang palmed the two organs in his hands.

He observed his victim bellowing in pain as he fell to his knees, hands covering his bloodied sockets. A ghostly smirk accompanied his lips. "Better slit-eyes than none at all."

You had to suppress the severe shivers that threatened to break your stance. 

Shaw broke the universal law. His undoing was inevitable.

He flung the eyes upon the owner, and turned on his heel, eerily cool as he walked out of the office, blood and goo still on his black gloves. Not a hair ruffled upon his pretty head. 

You spared a look at the victim, crying out in infinite pain, hands on his sockets still. “Do not fuck with Christopher Bang,” was all you said, before following the devil out of the building.

The afternoon London heat hit you as you exited the offices, Chris waiting as he examined the filthy streets surrounding you. People of all classes strolled by, beggars on the street asking for two-pence, children selling newspapers down the corners, and carriages riding away on the wide roads. The man still did not clean his gloves from the mess, and you pointed this out as you arrived at his side.

“It does not bother me,” he waved you off, but you brought out your leather skin.

“Bring your hands out,” you ordered. 

Chris scowled. “I said I’m alright,___.” He began walking forwards, towards your humble abode, not far away from your starting point. “Besides, whoever strolls past us, they’ll second guess their evil intentions against us.” You glanced over the strange looking fellows, scattered across the roads. “Shows I am not afraid to get my hands dirty.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “Dirty pig.”

You felt daggers glaring into you. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” you said, turning a corner, already catching sight of the docks. “I expect this behaviour from Jisung. Perhaps even Changbin, but not from you.”

“Enough with this,” the man ordered, irritancy clear in his voice. Grumbling, you walked beside him in silence, the Thames entering your vision. You wished it would have radiated a rich, clear blue body of water, but from the stench which even reached your nose, it would be impossible. The river, a dump for the sewers, the rubbish disposed daily, was a toxic mass of water, and the cause of thousands dying from drinking its contents. When you first joined the Sons you nearly drank from the river, being saved only by Chris’ rough hand slapping the cup away. You remembered you received a harsh scolding from him that day, immediately providing you with clean water after to quench your thirst. 

A small smile curved onto your lips at the memory.

“Hand it over.”

You perked your head up to see his filthy, gloved hands out. “What is it?” You asked. 

“The water.”An irritated sigh escaped him. “I’ll clean the bloody gloves.” 

Your smile grew as you handed him the leather skin. “But only because I don’t ever want to be associated with Jisung and Changbin,” he added, and you only laughed, watching the man rub the mess off his attire as you both arrived at the docks.

The first sounds heard were not of the boats bellowing at port, nor the waves lapping in underneath the stilts. 

No, all you were welcomed with was a string of curses, spat by Seo Changbin.

“You fucking bastard, how dare you—”

“Here we go again,” you caught Chris muttering, who quickened his pace, thundering to where the two of his sidemen fought, caught in a scrap.

Han Jisung’s whines were carried through the river air, burning into your eardrums. “Bin, no, I said I’m sorry—!”

When you caught up to Chris, he opened his mouth, exasperation clear in his voice. “Boys!” He exclaimed.

Immediately the fighting ceased. The boys addressed, Changbin atop Jisung, ready to throw the final punch, turned back to see his leader scowling. Jisung let out a yelp, throwing the former from him and scrambling to his feet. Changbin followed suit, a little more slowly after rubbing his side in agony.

“Why the fuck,” Chris started, pointer finger darting between his two men, “Are you both fighting again?”

Changbin, fixing his ruined locks with his hand, shot his best friend a glare. “He took my fucking scones again.” He groaned, much too loud. “God, I specifically stored them in a place where no one would find them, but this greedy pig still managed to snuff them out!”

Jisung, a slender and more comical figure, crossed his arms, raising his chin in stubbornness. “I did not see a bloody name on them! Tell me Bin,” he matched his opponent’s stare. “Did you write down your name with blood-red ink across the scones? Because I certainly did not see the words Seo Changbin scrawled on the surface!”

“Argh!” The elder of the two turned his raging gaze towards the leader, who was watching his subordinates with slight distaste. “Chris, permission to cut off his tongue for being the bane of my existence?!”

Chris only stepped past them, heading for the big wooden table situated near the gang’s warehouse. The sounds of ships sailing in the dirty waters thrummed to the port, shouting heard all around over new, imported goods. “Another time, Changbin,” he only said, bringing out a chair and sitting down, propping an ankle over a knee. “I have encountered enough organ slicing for the day.”

Jisung’s face twisted in awed curiosity, settling himself down beside Chris. “Without me?” he let out a disappointed whine, turning to you. “I trusted you, at least!”

“I was surprised myself, Ji,” you argued, raising a hand towards the aloof man as you sat opposite your friend. “I didn’t know Chris gouged out Shaw’s eyes until they were in his hand!”

“You truly are a selfish man,” Changbin complained, plopping himself on the last seat. “Alway keeping the fun for yourself and ____.”

You did not really know why your face flushed a little at his charge, but you made sure to whack Changbin in the gut, earning a pained groan from the boy.

Chris locked his hands upon the table. “Well, gentlemen, then it is time for you to join in on the entertainment.”

The two boys exchanged confused glances. On cue, you brought out the pair of invitations within your coat pocket, tossing them to the table. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a ball,” you explained, rolling your eyes at the boys tearing open the envelopes, yanking out the oblong, cartridge paper, details inked with a precise hand. “Since it does not have names, anyone can enter the estate.”

Jisung let out an excited yell, grabbing onto Changbin’s arm. “Binnie, we can actually have some fun!”

“Not so fast, boys,” Chris said, tightening his gloves. “The invitations are not yours.”

Changbin’s face immediately fell. “Are you fucking kidding me—”

The elder held out a finger, silencing the complaints, but not the quiet grumbling of his members. “As I was saying,” he continued, hands interlocking once more, “____ and I will use the invitations to get inside, with the two of you as our bodyguards.”

“Marvellous!” Jisung exclaimed, sarcasm practically dripping on his words. “Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic!”

“Jisung,” Chris warned, “How about you clean the shit off the docks instead?”

“Chan,” you murmured, causing him to glance at you. His sour expression almost softened at the word, the name which only few have ever said to him. You pondered at the time the two boys, sat to your right, tried teasing him with this name, and nearly earned an ass-beating. You, on the other hand, rather liked the way the name sounded on your tongue. 

Perhaps, you wished dearly, he liked the way it sounded on your tongue too.

The man, after a pause, averted his eyes from you, focusing them on his comrades. “You both can still enjoy the festivities, but you have to keep a low profile, because while ____ and I are socialising and distracting the guests, you both need to find Carter.”

“Is he at the party too?” Changbin propped his elbows on the table. “Lord above, I’ve been wanting to kick his arse for a while.”

“So you both just frivol away, then?” Jisung whined. “I want to drink and dance!”

“And you both will,” Chris persisted. “We all will keep a lookout for Carter and his dealings, and if any of us find him first, you report to me. At my signal, you and Changbin will break through their trade. I will be behind you as long as I slip away without anyone discovering our motives.”

You look to your leader. “There’s another problem.”

The three all turned to you. “If we are to go to the most lavish ball of the season, we certainly need to dress for it.” Suddenly, you sounded like a little girl when you pointed out, “I do not have a gown to wear for the evening.”

An eyebrow raised upon Chan’s face, while Changbin and Jisung snickered, puckering their lips. “Aww, poor little ____ has no lace to woo the rich men!”

You made to slap the pair’s arms and narrowly missed, glaring. “As if you animals have any decent attire to wear for the ball! When was the last time you wore a proper tailcoat?”

That was enough for their teasing to cease, but Changbin was adamant. “Don’t throw me in with Jisung! He doesn't even bother to shower!”

“Oi, you bastard!”

The pair were ready to fight once more when Chris cleared his throat.

“You’re right,____.”

A glance at the man who said it. “I have only seen you in stealth gear and rags, the first time I met you.” He leaned back in his creaking chair. “Perhaps it is time to flower you up a little.”

Jisung and Changbin were about to chuckle once again when you shot them a dirty look.

“I will order evening attire tomorrow,” Chris decided. “They will arrive on the day of the ball, which is adequate enough timing. 

“Now,” he declared, standing. “Are we all aware of what we have to do?”

The two boys turned sheepishly to you, who sighed and addressed the leader. “You and I attend the ball with these two fools as our bodyguards—”

“Hey!”

“____!”

“We maintain a believable facade and enjoy ourselves while also looking out for Carter and the documents. Once we find out where he is, Changbin and Jisung take him away, and we slip out of the party unnoticed.”

Chris, after a pause, nodded, a ghost of a smile upon his lips. “Good girl.”

And just like that, he left the table, your eyes a little wide and heart a little raced. 

When Chris retreated into the warehouse, the two boys turned their malicious gazes towards you, smirking much too wide for your liking.

“Do not,” you snapped, cheeks burning deeper, earning a smattering of laughter from the bastards.

“Whatever you say, good girl,” Changbin simpered, Jisung repeating the damned endearment until you hastily stood from your chair.

You rewarded them both with your middle finger before storming back into another warehouse, Chris’ words still engraved in your mind.

Just as Christopher Bang had predicted, the new attire arrived on the day of the ball. 

More planning had been explained, more additions to the grand scheme of the evening which was mere hours away. The gang was ready, but you can never be perfectly anticipated for any ideas gone amiss.

You even taught Jisung and Changbin to dance, ranging from the Polka to the Viennese Waltz, which was popular amongst high society in the growing years of Queen Victoria’s reign. They were terrible at the start, both of them always falling on each other, but with hard effort they learned quickly, almost perfecting the art of leading your partner on the ballroom floor.

You had not bothered asking the other if he wished to learn. There was something about him which made you think that he could do anything. Not once had he ever doubted your theory.

It was as if there was nothing in the world he could not know like the back of his gloved hand.

Thoughts like these were what filled you with such awe for him. Such deep-rooted pride that you worked under this man. Those thoughts did, however, curve into darker corners — when his midnight-lined eyes and raven figure haunted you in restless nights. 

You aggressively shook your head, swinging your legs over the dock. Sitting upon the wood, you watched the sun descend slowly, the stark yellows and whites of the sky beginning to darken. Ships docked and stayed, men with their filthy language and filthier intentions flocked outside, and strange women with too-tight corsets and lips too rosey, smirking at the newcomers, carrying out their own ways of living.

Sometimes, you’d watch this run-down life move on in this exact same spot, thanking the lucky stars for not being one of the boys with the weights on their backs, nor the girls with the untied top corsets. You thanked the same man, who brought you out of that hell, giving you the chance to fight all this wrong embedded in London. 

You also thanked him, especially that day, for calling you that endearment. 

God. The man was a criminal, yet you were the one being imprisoned. 

“____!”

You turned, heaving to your feet when you see Jisung running to you, packages in his hands. “Your gown’s inside!” He exclaimed, gummy smile lighting up his entire face. 

Throwing you the box, you caught it just before it flew into the Thames, shooting the boy a wary glare. “Careful,” you said, looking over the silk ribbon tied into a perfect bow upon the middle. Although there were greater happinesses in life, small ones such as new dresses had you in near giggles.

“I’ve got my very own tailcoat now,” Jisung yelled, ripping open the packaging, about to whip out his new clothing when you waved him to stop.

“Do it inside, Ji, or you’ll ruin your outfit!”

“Trust him to fuck up a perfectly new suit before trying it on,” Changbin’s voice drawled through the dock, who held a box of his own. “Also, the boss is saying to quit dallying and start dressing!”

You obliged, holding onto your box tenderly as you entered a little building beside the main warehouse, consisting of everyone’s rooms and privies. Your eyes glanced to Chris’ bedroom door before pushing open the door to yours, stepping inside to the small, yet decorated space, filled with a board of knives and bows displayed upon one wall and an erratic strokes of paint brushed along the textured surfaces, courtesy of Jisung and Changbin’s lack of motivation to finish your room. An undone bed was tucked into the corner, and a large mirror stood on its curled railing in the other corner, revealing yourself, hands underneath the package.

The sun fell further, sky being painted with dark oranges and purple and pinks, staining your bedroom the colours of soft autumn as you put your package on the bed, untying the ribbon and unboxing the whole treat. 

The first glance of the dress had you smiling in pure incitement.

You brought the dress out of its box, letting it trail free right down to your toes, holding it to arm’s length to examine the details : it was a mysterious, dark red, a colour which instantly attracted attention within the golds of the ballroom. The neck line was low, dipping just enough to tempt until it swelled over for the openings for the arms, black ruffles on the fabric to accentuate off shoulders. The intricate, midnight detail was stitched to perfection, creating a network of swirls upon the bodice before flaring out into the wider skirts. Dear God, you had never seen such an exquisite dress on any noble lady in this damned city.

Your smile grew a little wider. Christopher Bang, once again, has not disappointed. 

You turned it on it’s back, mouth parting in surprise at the silk lacing, undone and trailing down the dress, waiting to be tied and admired. Realising that we’re you to wear this, the entire ball would see your back half-exposed. Even the man you’re to be escorted with.

The thought alone made your insides sing. 

Chris had ordered this dress. He knew what he was acquiring for you, what he asked you to dare. 

Well, you were happy to oblige. Something within you wished to see his eyes blaze at you in the gown.

Closing the curtains of your room, you quickly lit up a metallic lamp, orange light leaking onto your dresser and walls.  Setting the source upon a stool, you began shedding your coat, tossing it on the bed before going to the dresser.

You spent about ten minutes on your hair, lifting locks upward and curling them into a messy bun. You brought out clips of pearls, attaching them at the back of your hair, letting the few stray curls bounce along your ears and neck.

After finishing your hair you began shedding your clothing, excitement rushing in your gut at the thought of wearing the ballgown. When you were adorned in nothing but your underthings, you grabbed onto the arms of the new dress, entering one leg into the opening before sliding the other. You raised the gown, fitting the bodice upon yourself and the short sleeves cuffing just under your shoulders. 

Looking over your shoulder at the back, it was bare before the mirror, saving your rear only with a small dip which was edged with more black lace. The laces for tightening the back still hung uselessly, begging to be entangled with their partners.

And you tried to oblige. You truly did, straining your hands behind your back and trying your hardest to tie the laces with the opposites, of creating a pattern adequate enough for the ball and announce your preparation. Unfortunately for you, your fingers refused to assist you that moment in the evening. 

Letting out an irritated sigh, you called for your friends.

“Jisung!” you shouted, hands endeavouring still. “Changbin!”

Your back still to the door, you waited for the two fools to arrive, but no one came. Again, you called their names, but to no avail, only silence answering you.

“I swear to the Lord,” you muttered, arms now starting to hurt from the stretching. You were about to bring the warehouse down with your roar when you heard the door quietly creak open, the sound of boots emitting against the floor. 

“Ah, finally,” you began as you turned around, hands clutching the bodice of the dress, ready to be irritated by your comrades when all words abandoned your tongue.

There, standing by the door, in all his midnight-tainted glory, was Chris Bang.

You hated how your eyes widened at the sight of him. 

The man always took care of his appearance, but that evening he had truly outdone himself - His infamous woollen longcoat was hung over his arm, exposing his black tailcoat, shining slightly in the flickering lamp light. His waistcoat underneath fit snug, and his white cravat tie peaked just above the lapels, caressing his Adam’s apple. His raven locks were slicked back, a few stray flyaways drooping over his forehead. The gloves were worn still, skin never exposed.

You caught his eyes flicker, something within stirring at seeing you, holding onto your dress in case it fell to the floor. The prolonging silence was shattered when you forced yourself to speak.

“Chris,” you said, because his name was the first thing, the only thing you could comprehend.

He, too, inhaled, slowly. “Jisung and Changbin...they’re outside, so they could not hear.”

“Oh.” 

Another round of silence. God, you wished you could just say something to him, anything which wasn’t a single syllable—

“____.”

You snapped into focus. “Yes?”

“Why did you call them?”

Blinking, you stumbled, “I, I just needed help with…” your hand gestured to your back. “...with the laces.”

There was an indecipherable undertone in his next words. “You could have called me.”

“You’re here now.”

Again. The world-heavy pause upon the both of you. 

A few more seconds ticked by when Chris set his coat upon the dresser chair. His eyes never left yours.

“Turn around.”

You dragged your gaze away from his as you complied, baring your back before him, laces dangling. His footsteps sounded from behind you, and his presence was felt, large and magnetic.

Leather sliding from skin, you sensed his eyes on you, taking in your illuminated skin. You had the greatest urge to shiver, but suppressed it, waiting for his next move.

A small breath hitched in your throat when Chris grabbed onto the first pair of laces and tugged them back, pulling you to him. 

Almost too conveniently, your rear backed against his crotch, and a minute noise escaped you before putting some distance between you two again. You instantly regretted the action, already missing the mere caress of what lay underneath his trousers.

“Stop fidgeting,____,” he ordered, and you immediately stilled, the tug still adamant at your back. Almost disgraceful how quickly you listened to him.

Slowly, he tied the first bow, right to the small of your back. When he started on the second, though, the first touch of his fingers against your back threw you off guard.

You should have expected this. You should have known from the start of his task that his fingers would graze your skin but each caress was like a lick of fire, threatening to singe the skin. Your breath caught in your throat, each time Chris touched you.

Those damned fingers skirted upwards, tying up the laces with such delicacy it nearly softened your stance, if only you didn’t notice his growing warmth. You realised with no small amount of pleasure that he, too, was possibly flustered.

Christopher Bang. Flustered over a girl.

You almost gasped when his hands brought a few stray curls over your shoulder, the dip of your neck exposed as he began the final bow of your gown. The process was excruciatingly slow, each little caress enough for you to turn around and—

And what?

How you desperately wanted to find out. 

Sensing the ribbon curling upon your neck, you understood. 

“It is done,” he whispered, and you shifted at the sigh which kissed your skin. God, he was so close, you were scared that if you turned around his lips—

You did not need to worry when you felt strong hands grip your shoulders, whirling you around in a sudden fashion. Your eyes widened at the close proximity of his face, his beautiful fucking face, and the warm, slender hands on your naked shoulders.

“Chan,” you let yourself say, and you swore the criminal’s eyes darkened. His grip on you tightened.

Perhaps he would have closed the distance, saved you from desperation when someone knocked on the goddamn door.

“___?!”

“Hurry up, the carriage is waiting!”

“Women, honestly—!”

You yelped at the sound of your friends bellowing behind the door. Even Chris looked a little surprised, a slight tick in his jaw as the noise grew louder.

Grabbing onto your skirts, you thundered towards the door, furrowing your brows as you twisted the knob, opening to see the same two idiots, shooting you irritated glares. 

“Is Miss Fancy-Shmancy finally ready?” Changbin drawled, propping a hand upon his hip, tails of his coat dangling behind him.

“Madame certainly took her time,” Jisung went on, sauntering into your bedroom without a care. “Might as well not attend the ball at all—”

His incessant rambling was instantly ceased when he saw Chris standing before you, putting on his gloves. His face was impassive as ever, save for the jaw still tightened.

“Oh, Chris,” he said, and started backing away to the door. “The carriage is outside.”

“Let us go, then,” he only replied as he grabbed his longcoat, strolling out of your bedroom, leaving your skin tingling and heart confused.

Changbin watched Chris exit the building, turning to you with a raised brow. “What was the Mr. Thorns-up-his-arse doing in your room?”

You scoffed at the nickname, picking up the invitations from the dresser. “He was just helping me.”

Jisung’s lips curved into a smirk. “Helping you…?”

“Stop it!” You demanded, but both of the boys could see the blush on your cheeks, even from the dim lamp light. 

“Come on, now,____,” Changbin said, holding out an arm, and hitting Jisung’s arm to do the same. “Let us follow Chris before he shouts at us for keeping you here.”

“Don’t say such things,” you cooed, looping your arms with the two boys. “He will kill you outright instead.”

Laughter emitted from the two, leading you out of the room, down the halls and soon the building.

The carriage was waiting at the entrance of the dock, horses neighing softly at your arrival. Jisung opened the carriage door, letting you climb inside. Chris, inside already, held out a hand, you taking it as he had you sit beside him. His hard figure brushed against your shoulders, reminding you of his fingers on your back not too long ago.

Just like that, you slumped against the seating. That man was truly going to be the death of you.

When the two boys scrambled inside, Chris’ hand thudded against the roof, indicating it to start riding. The carriage obliged to his command. 

The small, interwoven streets widened as the carriage rode upon the main roads, going faster with each signal of Chris’ hand. The inside was alive with Jisung gloating shamelessly over his checkered waistcoat, with Changbin giving reassurances for his “ugly face ruining the clothing.” You laughed at every jab the two threw at each other, but would tense at the erratic touches Chris’ knee would send with every shake of the vehicle. Although the many layers of skirts cushioned these brushes, the blood rushing to your cheeks was evidence enough - everything he did made you so unhinged.

Soon, the big roads led from filthy, back-to-back housing to larger homes, the further the dirty central city strayed from you. A few touches of countryside teased your view when you saw mansions, estates the size of neighbourhoods gracing the surroundings. The carriage began to slow down, as more people adorned in fine attire entered your window view, no doubt going to the same destination as the gang.

The most illuminated estate welcomed you as the carriage stopped right before its vast, colourful gardens, smattering of couples taking intimate walks along the hedges. Chris, noticing the destination, opened the door, Changbin following suit. As the former got out he held out his hand to you. Surprised by his sudden manners, you took his hand, stepping down from the carriage, careful of your skirts as they brushed against the pavement. Jisung and Changbin were right beside you, uttering the driver to come back within a couple of hours.

“Now,” Chris began, bringing your hand to his arm. “You both stay behind me and ____. You wouldn’t need invitations if you both act like our bodyguards.”

“Right behind you, boss,” Jisung chanted, counting his knives inside his coat pockets. Changbin took one of the weapons from him, sliding it up his trouser sleeve, securing it with a leather ankle strap. 

“Right.” the gang all looked at each other, silent understanding passing between all of you.

“Let’s ruffle some rich feathers.”

With your hand still on his arm, the leader of the Sons of Seoul led his gang inside of the massive estate. 

Guards at the entrance shot you grave looks as they stopped you. “Invitations,” they said. You obliged, bringing out the golden paper. They looked over, convinced, and gave them back to you.

You and Chris were about to enter when Jisung and Changbin were stopped behind you. “Protection,” Chris said, but the guards were unconvinced. 

“They need invitations too,” was their answer.

Dread, slight yet present, began to fill your stomach. Has the mission failed before it could even begin?

“I suggest you let them in, too,” Chris only said, black eyes piercing the two men with a glare. “Or my friend hosting this party will hear of this inconvenience.”

That seemed to stir the guards, for they said nothing more, letting your friends enter the estate. Jisung and Changbin made sure to smirk at the men before sauntering inside behind you.

Your eyes, upon stepping inside the main hall, were welcomed with paradise. 

Gold. gold upon gold was painted, lined, moulded everywhere, upon the walls, on the floor, on the painted ceiling, hypnotising you with its kaleidoscopic pattern. Swirls of white and silver journeyed along the walls, and the floor bore solid treasures, sculpted into the ground and shining exquisitely from the chandelier lighting. Hundreds of lords and ladies, businessmen and escorts populated the manor, either being moved by the orchestral band, dancing, helping themselves to food from the lines of dishes or simply mingling among others.

It was the chaos of the rich. A place you didn’t quite fit in.

You stole a glance at the man beside you. Even though he looked contained as ever, you felt his arm tightening all over. Perhaps he knew he did not belong in this world either.

The grim understanding was cut off when Changbin’s shrill gulp sounded from behind you.

“Scones!”

The man immediately dashed towards the food section, earning blatant laughter from his friends as Jisung stepped beside Chris. “Once he’s done stuffing himself, we’ll get into positions.” He skirted his eyes over the buzzing crowd. “I have already spotted some of Carter’s men in different corners of the hall, so we can see where they’re going to go.”

“Any signs of Carter?” you asked, already feeling suggestive eyes on your body, the dark red curves of your figure. 

“He’ll show himself soon,” Chris promised, beginning to take a step forward. “The bastard thrives in attention.” He turned to Jisung. “Make yourself scarce.”

He then saw Changbin making himself much too comfortable with the jam scones rapidly declining in his wake. “And for God’s sake, control Changbin.”

Jisung shook his head, mocking a salute before strolling to his friend. You and him were left to your own activities, and soon you felt the tug of his body, leading you further into the hall.

You looked up to see him scouring the room. His brows furrowed slightly, that stiffness felt underneath your fingertips. “Chris,” you called to him, and were answered with an uncertain stare.

“I’m alright,” he said, walking along the lines of the dance floor, looking away when he gave you the false assurance. 

You did not know what was going on. In other missions his composure would never falter — this was what he was so notorious for, being calm despite the anarchy around him. Never before had you seen him so tense.

“Stop it.”

You blinked back into reality. “What?”

“You’re doing it again,” he hissed, raking his hand through his hair. “Looking at me that way. Like I’m about to snap.”

A pout formed on your lips, looking up at him underneath your lashes. “I can sense you’re distressed.” You squeezed his arm in comfort. “I cannot help if I worry for you, Chris.” 

With small surprise, you found him soften, only slightly. “I just…” he sighed in exasperation. “I hate parties.”

You understood the connotations. Wealthy parties. The men and women who throw them. 

“And I, too,” you agreed, earning a soft snort from the man. Your heart warmed a little at the sound, and thankfully the tension faded between the two of you, not necessarily from each other but from the socialites around you.

Your heart, however, received no such rest, beating much too loud for your liking. 

The two of you took another turn of the room before a low, arrogant drawl paused you both in your tracks.

“Mr Christopher Bang.”

You and your leader both sighed simultaneously. 

Turning, you tilted your head upwards to none other than ‘Scar’ Carter, smirking ridiculously down at the the two of you. He was something out of a children’s book, the grotesque villains with wanned skin and beady looks, ready to pounce and make you disappear without you ever realising. Although young, he looked to be in his mid-forties, unkept locks and curled moustache, being played by his fingers. 

He held out his other hand, extending the smile to the man beside you. “Always a goddamned blessing to see you.”

Chris assessed his hand for a moment before he let go of your grip on his arm, slipping off his gloves. His own olive coloured hands were roughened, no doubt from years of manual labour. He took Carter’s hand, shaking the greeting in place, and the latter turned his enemy’s hold, looking over at the new image inked upon the hand.

“What is this, Chrissy?” He mused, the nickname causing the said-man’s lips to twitch. “Some flowery poetry?”

Your eyes strayed to what he meant; just under his thumb, where the joint began, was a tattoo, inked deeply in a cursive hand. It was a phrase you had never knew the meaning of, nor had you asked, but the Latin was beautiful on his textured skin.

NON DUCOR DUCO.

“Not poetry, Carter,” he only said, tracing his sole tattoo with a finger. “But something I live by.”

Despite Carter towering over the man, Chris Bang pinned him with a piercing glare. His signature phantom smile appeared on his lips. 

“I am not led. I lead.”

The giant’s shit-eating grin faltered. You could not help but let a small chuckle escape at his reaction. 

And maybe you shouldn’t have shown amusement, because when he focused his animalistic gaze upon you, you had the sudden urge to hold onto the man beside you again.

“Ah, Miss ____,” he jeered, mocking a deep bow which you did not return. “Chris’ little...protégée.”

He then held out his hand to you, and you knew it was not to shake the gnarled fingers. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with you?”

You scoffed, anger bubbling within your veins. How dare he even ask you, after all the trouble he had caused for the gang? Smirking as if it was all a little game.

Your mouth parted, ready to reject him outright when a warm hand settled on your back. 

Chris’ fingers stroked the exposed skin, skirting over the lacing, and despite the heavenly feeling, you knew what this signal really meant. 

Distraction. This would be the perfect opportunity to divert Carter’s attention while Chris joined in the other’s search. Listening to the instrumental, you realised that would spare them another five minutes.

Reigning in your fury, you offered the bastard a thin-lipped smile before taking his hand, already missing the mere touch of another seconds before.

Carter led you to the dance floor among the other dancers, you hardly radiating the same enthusiasm as the others accompanying you. The man’s other hand, one still holding yours, snaked around your waist, and you hated how it felt against your back, pure distaste staining your features as he tried to impersonate the idle lace curling that Chris did.

As if it physically hurt, you propped a hand upon his shoulder, and when the music began, the game started.

The giant kept ogling at you as the sly grin appeared on his lips. “I must say, I am very envious of Chris.”

You matched his stare. “Of course you would,” you only said, trying your best to sound like your leader, who was an embodiment of calmness. “You can never be the man Chris is.”

“Oh, I did not mean by what he is, my lady,” he corrected. “I meant by what he has.”

He pulled you to him, much to close, and you hissed as the fingers behind you played on your back. “He is much too lucky to possess a creature like you, Miss ____.”

Good God. If he endeavoured to make you as uncomfortable as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You regretted ever listening to Chris, but for the plan, you will do what is necessary.

As if on cue, you felt dark, piercing eyes on you. By the little hairs which stood at the back of your neck, there was no doubt who watched over you, murmuring progress with Jisung as he sipped wine on a tightly held flute. 

“Tell me, sweet,” he began once more, making you lose your thoughts, turning about the room as the music went on. “Why do you work for a man like him?”

You sighed at the question. Truly this man did not know how to initiate small talk. “Why is that any of your concern?”

“Because I’ve seen you in action,” he answered, and you could not mistake the awe that threatened to expose in his voice. “You have incredible potential, my lady, and it pains me that Chris does not use you properly. You waste your efforts in a silly gang.”

His condescending speech made you dig his nails in his hand. “Careful, Carter,” you seethed, watching his face crumple in pain from your action. “The silly gang you speak of will not hesitate to obliterate your entire organisation. And neither will I.”

Rage flashed in his eyes as he grinned at your claim. “I doubt the esteemed Christopher Bang would even let you participate,” he drawled, grazing his fingers against your back. “You being his whore is enough for him.”

You parted your mouth in slight shock. The reaction quickly evaporated with pure, unadulterated fury. A lot of people speculate your true relationship with Chris, but your own demeaning always struck deep. How dare people think that you only have the power you have because you slept with the greatest criminal in the city? 

With your head raging, you sent your low heel down upon Carter’s boot, a yelp escaping the man as his dancing faltered, grip on you loosening. Fortunately for you, the orchestra smoothed their music to a close, and small applause rang around the room, you joining as you smiled at Carter’s slight groaning.

When the giant looked at you again, all his arrogance was gone, instead a face of wrath. “You bitch-”

You were sure he was going to strike, despite hundreds in the ballroom. Even your smug demeanour dampened when you saw his bear-like hand raise when its journey was paused.

Ceased completely as Chris’ hand wrapped around Carter’s wrists.

Your leader’s smile was sharp, like a decorated dagger. “Are you already creating a scene, just when you finished the first dance?”

Carter, dumbfounded by his enemy’s sudden presence, waved off the foreign grip on his hand. “You are never going to find the documents,” he crowed, glaring at the two of you.

Chris, the magnificent bastard, only kept his magnetic smirk as he took your hand, enveloping his fingers with yours. “We shall see about that,” he promised, and dipped his head in adieu, turning on his heel and taking you with him. 

You felt your heart flutter when his grip on you stayed, even when Carter stomped off into the crowd. “Bastard,” you hissed. A hum of agreement followed. 

Soon, music began to play a sensual tune, and you looked to the couples joining in the main circle of the floor. You made to leave that area when you felt the man refused to be led. 

You looked back, noticing an uncertain emotion swirling in his eyes. “The dance is about to begin.”

“So?” he merely said, hands still clasping yours. The people around you began to take positions. 

“Chris,” you got out. “You do not dance.”

A small smile enveloped his mouth at the claim. He answered in wrapping a hand around you, making you suck in a breath. You caught sight of the tattoo inked on his skin as he raised his hold on. NON DUCOR DUCO.

I am not led. I lead.

“You’re right,” he admitted. As the first tune of the violin settled in the ballroom, the man took a step. “But I let it slide on special occasions.”

You did not reply, only staring at him as you happily let him turn you about the dance floor.

Your assumptions were correct - Chris Bang was a wonderful dancer. The man already possessed a natural smoothness in his usual movement, but the way he led you across the room gave fluidity another meaning entirely. His hand on your back was an anchor to reality, keeping you from dreaming away in the skies above, and his fingers, interlocked with yours, were a silent promise that he was never letting you go. 

You were so caught up in your fantasies that you did not hear what Chris said until he called your name. 

“____.”

You perked up, raising your brows. “Yes?

“Did Carter say anything to you?” His fingers on your exposed skin began to caress you, and it took a lot within you to stay calm. “You were seething while you both danced.”

Oh, so he was watching you. The information didn’t help your nerves. “He was being his usual, charming self,” you drawled, careful of your feet. 

He paused a bit at your unhelpful answer. “I see,” he got out, index curling with the ribbon of your back. You let out a shuddered breath, not going unnoticed by the man. 

You changed the subject, focusing on the mission. “Are Jisung and Changbin still searching for the documents?”

Chris, on the note, twirled you delicately, and brought you back into his arms. “They have discovered the hideout, and have taken down half the men,” he informed, and you sighed in relief. “They’ll find what we’re looking for soon.”

“I hope so, too,” you murmured, listening to the music ascend in its pitch. 

So much finery radiated in this room. As your eyes drifted to the surroundings once more, you became slightly envious of the family fortunate enough to reside in this estate, and drink in the liquid gold splattered everywhere in the vast hall. Complaints were heard from a rather nasty woman, who screamed at a young servant for spilling wine on her oh so expensive dress, and the jewellery which glittered upon necks and ears. 

This. you hated this. Despised the wealth which accumulated in this ball, this entire neighbourhood. Not months ago you were about to die from the lack of food in your stomach. No doubt these people simply relished another one of these many balls, occurring every season.

It was the only reason the Sons of Seoul existed in the first place. To battle the ranks of the rich, and establish a sense of justice which had long faded from London.

Perhaps Chris sensed your growing disgust at the environment, for he sighed. “I hate these people.”

You nearly smiled at how similar you both think.

His touches still had you nearing closer to him as he continued, “I hate how everyone here can simply enjoy themselves without a care in the world. I hate the Mayor for letting this chaos happen as he sits back on his arse, corruption spiking under his office.”

His anger grew. “I hate that pig-headed prick Carter and all the trouble he’s brought me. I hate that he stole those documents and constantly fucks with me as if we two had not crawled out of the same hellhole.

“And God,” he snapped, pure venom now lacing his tongue, “I hate how he was touching you as if you were no one but his.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

He groaned out in frustration, fingers tightening on your hand. “I hate how Jisung and Changbin walked in on us this evening. Despise that the moment I was about to close the distance they burst through the door, leaving me helpless. And I hate feeling helpless.”

You did not know what to say, what words to comfort him with. Not when you were thinking the exact same thing, and felt the exact same agitation, particularly at your core.

The man leaned in, eyes heavy lidded. “You know what I hate the most, ____?”

Gulping, you let out a little, “What?” afraid of what he was going to reveal.

His tongue ran along his bottom lip, fingers continuing their teasing.

“I-” he seethed, gripping your back tightly. “Fuck, I hate how ravishing you look in that dress.”

You parted your mouth in shock, blushing the colour of roses. “Why do you hate that?” you only asked, breath almost lost in your lungs as your blood began to thrum beneath your skin.

His eyes lost all dreamy light when a small curve enveloped his lips. “Because, my dear ____,” he muttered hoarsely, each breath ragged, “It makes me think of all the things I want to do to you.”

The strong hand on his back was felt much more, fingers playing with the laces of your dress. You nearly cried out in front of a hundred people over their idle play, and his bold, bold statement.

Chris relished in your whimpering reaction. “Aren’t you going to ask me?” he whispered, leaning in till his mouth hovered near your ear. “Do you not want to know what I wish to do to you?”

“What,” you rasped out, grip tightening over his neck. “What are you going to do?”

His husky chuckling nearly sent you over the edge. “I’ll find a nice little space, away from Carter and all these people,” he began, breath caressing your skin. “Then I’ll kiss you slowly, like so.” he pressed a chaste kiss underneath your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “These hands of mine will roam all over, but they will gladly trail up your legs, ____.

“And God, when my hands stop at your sopping cunt, I’ll make it cry with my fingers.” He drummed his fingers on your back. “One.” Tap. “Two.” Tap. “Three of them.” Tap. “Perhaps you’d like more.”

You whined into his shoulder, feet stumbling as you clung onto him tighter. “M-more,” you pleaded quietly, so careful to keep dancing, move along to the music. 

“Of course you would,” he only cooed in your ear, and you were scared you would collapse over his words. “Luckily for you, I wouldn’t be finished with you either.”

Your hand, clasped in his his, squeezed at his words. “Chris, please—”

“Yes, just like that,” the man mused, whirling you on the dance floor. “Just like that, you’ll beg me to send you over the edge, but I won’t let you be satisfied so easily.” 

On God and all his subjects, if he did not cease his filth you were going to come onto the floor by his mere words. You could tell Chris noticed, almost reading your mind as the ghost of a smirk widened. “Already afraid, love?”

Love. 

Dear, fucking God.

“You see, ____,” he muttered, leading you to the final round of the song, the steps of the dance going faster. “I won’t let you be satiated with just my fingers.”

And as he broke his hold on you, twirling you with his tattooed hand, he pulled you to him, one last time, crushing you against his granite chest. 

His eyes bore into yours when the last string of the violin wailed around the hall. All you could see was pure, unadulterated desire.

“I will have you writhing with my cock.”

Your eyes never left Chris’ as the music finally came to a close, gaze blurring at the dark promise. Applause scattered around the ballroom, yet your hands stayed upon his arm, the other enveloped in his.

You caught the words once more under his thumb. NON DUCOR DUCO.

Indeed you do.

“Chris,” you breathed out, waiting for him to let you go. He did no such thing.

Feeling a few suspicious eyes on you, your feet backed away from the man, hands escaping the feeling he emitted underneath your touch. 

A whine threatened to escape you when you saw his desire had not dampened. His hands shook, only slightly, and your stomach erupted into a million butterflies, journeying lower and lower. 

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly you feared you would faint on the dance floor. 

Excusing yourself, you hastened your footsteps, sending a few smiles to passerbys as you picked up a flute of champagne, hurrying down long hallways, catching a few couples leaning towards each other. When you found a grand wooden cabinet beside another door, no doubt a guest room, you slumped next to it, breathing loud and ragged, too affected by a certain man’s eyes and the hidden intentions underneath. You drank the entire champagne in one gulp, propping the flute on a servant’s tray as he rushed by.

“____!”

Gasping, you turned to the source of the voice. The voice which filled you with such unexplainable hunger you had to clench your thighs as it drew nearer.

Footsteps thudded against the carpet, and you squirmed at the sight of Chris Bang, storming towards you with a ferocity which had your knees near buckling.

“Where,” he began, voice an octave lower as he stood not a foot from you, smacking his hands against the wall, caging you with his presence. “Were you trying to lead me?”

“Somewhere where they cannot see us,” you responded, excitement clear in your voice. The ballroom chatter was still within your range, so technically, anyone could wonder down these halls, look over the cabinet and catch you both. 

The throbbing inside you didn’t particularly care. 

“And what do you want me to do,____,” he murmured, and his voice was glazed with pure lust,  “Which the world cannot see?”

“I…” slight shame tried to course through your body but the overflowing desire was too strong. Not when your tongue was not afraid to voice what was in your heart the moment you first saw him. “I want you to do all those things you said. I want you to ruin me.”

And perhaps that was all he needed, when Christopher Bang pressed his lips against yours and answered your prayers.

He was instantly rewarded with your surprised whine, drowned out by the movement of his mouth as his hands left the wall, holding onto your face. His thumbs caressed your cheeks as he led the fiery kiss, opening your mouth to let the little noises escape.

“Chris,” you tried to rasp out, but his lips refused once more as he tilted your head, gaining full access and truly discovering the sheer pleasure oozing from the swell of your lips. God, he had gone through every experience which gave him a sense of thrill, but the kiss he shared with you brought him a new, foreign high — as if he tried the drugs he had seen on the streets for the first time, and becoming addicted on the first dose. 

You broke the kiss, gasping for air as the two of you shared a carnal gaze, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm. Chris was ruthless, only sparing you for a few seconds before pouncing back in on your mouth, this time tongue playing along, asking to be let inside and slide along the inner workings. You would have been a fool to refuse him.

The moment you opened your lips for him his tongue slithered inside, sliding it along the roof of your mouth, while his hands left your face and instead gripped onto your waist, driving you further against the wall, snuffing out any distance which dared come between you and him.

A slightly moan bubbled within your throat when he began to roughen your lips, capturing your tongue before closing the seam of your mouth within his own, repeating the action until you didn’t know whether you were sane or absolutely fucking crazy.

You were sure straight after when one of his hands began sliding down. Down. He hurriedly broke the kiss, letting out an angry groan at the never ending skirts which met with his fingers. “Fuck this dress,” he cursed as he descended a little, peppering kisses upon the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck, trailing until he found the hem of your skirts.

Bunching them up with his one hand, he lifted the fabric, baring your legs to the dimmed chandelier light from the main hall. His hand trailed right up to your core, a single layer hiding it from Chris’ fingers. The poor, soaked fabric could not ever compete, when the criminal, with a single finger as he scattered kisses upon your face, hooked under the lacey underwear, sliding it down your thighs. So much desperation lurked he did not even bother to slide it down to your ankles,  a chuckle rasping out of him as his fingers skimmed your upper thighs to find them dripping with the suppressed arousal.

“My poor, poor, darling,” he whispered in a menacing tone, the other hand caressing your face, “Couldn’t contain yourself for me?”

“Ch-chan,” you heard yourself say, because at this point your soul was not present, probably lurking in seventh heaven where this man was taking you. 

Hearing his name on your slurred mouth only had him plunging the first finger inside you. 

You let out an obscenely loud moan, which was immediately followed by hushing. “Don’t make a sound,” he demanded, smiling slyly at your whimpering, “Or else I stop. Understand?”

You could not nod fast enough, and he huffed out a laugh before sliding the second finger in, rubbing against your slit, drawing circles upon your throbbing skin, testing the rather sticky waters of you and your fucked out state. 

Satisfied, he delved the two fingers in deeper, pulsating against your walls until they hit a certain spot which had you crying out in pleasure. Chris’ heavy lidded warning flashed in his eyes.

You nearly cried when he began to slide his fingers out over your moaning, your hand immediately stopping him from pulling out further. “Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, pleaded like the whores you heard on the docks, but you didn’t care, did not give a single fuck when those fingers needed to be inside you again. “Chan, please, I’m sorry—”

“One more fuck up, ____, and these—” his fingers plunged back into you once more, hitching you upwards with the sheer force, “—will be back out.”

Nodding hastily, you left your hand on his wrist. Chris continued to work so deliciously inside you that it took every ounce of strength left in you not to bring the manor down with your moaning. The whimpering could not be contained, but the criminal let that slide, finding great contentment every time you begged for more.

He curled his slender fingers, acquainting himself with that same bloody spot which had you seeing stars. Your hands gripped onto his neck for stability, nails digging into his shirt. How you wanted it off, along with all the damned layers he adorned.

The way he played with your sweet spot had you feeling heavy, a pleasured ball of pain forming at your lower back. You knew you were being led to an edge, an edge you could not, did not want to escape, and when you pulled away from Chris, looking into his eyes, he instantly understood.

“Oh my, love,” he simpered, his free hand thumbing your cheek. “Does someone want to get fucked against the wall? When I’m not even finished with them yet?”

Tears lined your eyes, cunt throbbing almost painfully around his fingers. “Chan, I’m going to—ah!” you cut off, closing your eyes as you barely held on to your last grips of sanity. “Chan.”

Your weakened, fucked out demeanour had the most dangerous man in London fearing for his own senses. He wished nothing more than you screaming his name for the whole city to hear, and with you, looking at him like that…

Oh, he was definitely going to drive you over the edge.

Christopher Bang nearly carried out his promise when a shrill call interrupted you two. 

“CHRIS! ____!”

“WHERE ARE YOU—?”

Your lust-glazed stare cracked as you blinked. “Chan,” you said his name, but the man let out an enraged roar. You felt the hollow emptiness when those golden fingers were pulled out of you, sticky residue coating his skin. The footsteps grew closer, the volume of the shouting increasing. 

Chris brought out a white handkerchief, cleaning your mess on his fingers rather aggressively. “I’m going to fucking kill them,” he guttered out, making your legs tremble. To your utmost misery you felt the orgasm, so close before, fading from existence, and you made a silent vow to break Jisung and Changbin’s legs the moment all of this was over.

Speaking of the Devil, the two hastened, opening all doors and closing them till the two stumbled upon the both of you, infuriated and worryingly turned on.

Changbin looked at the deflated expression on both of yours faces. “Chris? ____?” His eyes narrowed, trying to work out the reasons for the slight electric atmosphere he suddenly entered in. “Are you both...alright?”

“Perfectly,” the man answered in a ragged hiss, sliding on his gloves again, smoothing over his raven locks. “Now why the fuck are you both here?”

The two boys did not understand their leader’s anger. Choosing to let the snipe slide, Jisung said, “We’ve caught Carter.”

That seemed to send you and Chris back in reality. Well, not really, when your core still throbbed, the pleasure fading with each passing second.

“Where is he?” Chris flattened out his coat. “Where are the documents?”

Changbin brought out a small file from inside his waistcoat, holding it out for the former. “Right here.”

Chris took the file, skimming through the contents. His previously angered expression relaxed, just a fraction, and he held onto it as he set his powerful gaze on you all. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The four of you managed to slip away easily, you trying your hardest to fix yourself after the whole fiasco in the hallway. Your heart was still running a mile per minute, refusing to calm as your mind relived the events. The original carriage which you all arrived in was now accompanied with another one, with a dark figure hunched over from the window’s view.

“We threw the giant fucker in another carriage,” Changbin said, laughing as he recalled the takedown with Jisung. “Man could not believe he was failing!”

Chris ignored his story, turning to you all as he stood before Carter’s carriage. “You three, take the free one,” he ordered, his eyes rooted on you. “I will journey home with him.”

“But Chris,” you began, taking a step towards him, “Let me come with you.”

You caught a glimpse of the desire which swirled in his eyes, not long ago, and perhaps that was why he held your arm in his now gloved hand. 

“Go,” he only said. “I have a few things to say to him alone.”

After letting you go, nodding at the boys behind you, Chris Bang stepped inside the first carriage, slamming the door shut. The metal wheels screeched as the whole thing began to move, accelerating away.

You watched the carriage fade from view, Jisung and Changbin stepping beside you.

“What happened, ____?” the former asked, the other trying to comfort you with his gaze. 

Silence was their only answer, as you turned on your heel, climbing inside your designated ride and watched the stars twinkle from the window.

The two members of the gang really tried their best.

As you all journeyed home without your leader, the pair told their tale of how they took down Carter and his men, Jisung adding exaggerated gasps as Changbin demonstrated each kill he thrust upon his victims. You offered them a few laughs, giving them your attention, but really your mind was somewhere else, specifically a midnight-tainted criminal who nearly brought you your undoing.

You were insane. Insane as you thought of him, insane as you remembered how wonderfully he had you writhing over him, just by his fingers. The mindless pondering alone had your cunt pulsating, and you deserved an award for how unaffected you acted with your friends. 

Soon, the carriage slowed to a stop, and you perked up, not realising you had already arrived home. 

You waited for the boys to exit before you stepped out of the carriage, the only light on the docks emitting from lamps and the night sky, reflected on the surface of the river. The first carriage was already there when your feet met the concrete floor, and when you turned to the man who reigned in your mind he had his signature expression, an aloof distaste as he walked over to his gang. 

“Jisung, Changbin,” he called, and the boys responded. “Lock the carriage door,” he ordered, jerking his chin towards his transport. “We will bring him out in the morning.”

“Chris, should we not throw him in the cellar?” Changbin glared at Carter’s direction. “Bastard might escape.”

He only slid his hands in his pockets, you catching the dried blood on his gloves. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, striking a step towards the building. “He’s not going to disturb us tonight. I can promise you that.”

Jisung cursed low along with you, only watching the man walk back to the bedrooms. Bidding goodnight to your friends, you followed Chris’ trail, opening the door and stepping inside the hallway.

You saw him before his bedroom door, bringing out a rusted key. His eyes slid to you as your feet brought you to your entrance. You looked back, waiting as Chris unlocked his room and began to enter.

He turned back, something dark and twisted still lurking in his eyes.

You waited, so patiently at the words you wished to hear, of him finally ruining you.

Instead, you received something else entirely.

“Goodnight, ____.”

And closed the door behind him.

Your heart dropped. 

Fell to the floor, and shattered under the criminal’s bloodied boots. 

The light of the hallway flickered as you stood rooted to the doorway, eyes staring at Chris’ door as if looking at it hard enough would get him to change his mind.

What did you know. The man is not led by exterior forces. Only by his own will.

When you gathered up the strength to the slam the door shut, you slumped against the wood, hating yourself for the tears which threatened to break the lines of your eyes. This was pathetic — utterly disgusting that you were about to cry over his decision.

But you could not help it. You were so enraptured by him. Hell, you were ready to throw yourself in the fires of damnation for him, as he whispered filth all the while rutting against you. Why had that suddenly changed?

“Argh!” You screamed, stomping over to the lamp, light now long extinguished. You relit it’s spark, illuminating the room once more, and set it on the stool before recklessly plucking out the pearls in your hair, a few tears daring to trail down your cheeks. 

Fuck him. Fuck him for making you so rattled. Fuck him for having that effect on you.

You looked into your mirror and cursing yourself for the disheveled appearance. Again, the consequences for letting yourself fall for him.

“To hell with you Bang Chan,” you cursed. 

You were about to untie your dress when your bedroom door was nearly ripped off its hinges. 

Flinching, you grabbed the dagger on your dresser, raised to cut down whoever stupid enough to barge in on an assassin at midnight.

You were met with Christopher Bang. 

And the disorder he brought with him.

Chaos reigned in his figure; his tousled locks, his star-struck expression, his rolled-up sleeves and his pandemonic eyes, all working together and against each other to create the man you had never seen in your life. 

Good God. What had happened to him?

“Chan?” You got out, dagger now brought down. He said not a single word in response as he slammed the door shut, hard enough for the entirety of London to hear. 

Instead, he imprisoned you with his stare, almost giving you his chaos. The chaos you had always shared with him since the moment he picked you off the streets.

No, he said not one word — only took the steps needed to march towards you. You could only watch with widening eyes when he grabbed your face in his rugged hands and collided his lips against yours. 

You did not even hesitate to comply, hands grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him as close as you possibly could, so afraid that he would disappear from your grip if you dared let go. With the way he moved his mouth along yours, however, already opening up the familiar workings, you had a feeling he was not going to abandon you now.

When he broke away, breathing already erratic, his hands slid down to your neck, thumbs caressing the length of your throat. “I couldn’t,” he started, and he was sprinkling kisses all over your face. “I couldn’t leave.”

“I was scared, Chan,” you confessed, fisting the material harder. “I thought you truly did.”

His eyes focused on you. Within the turmoil, there was a promise. “Never,” he whispered, leaning in. “Never again.”

And suddenly his lips were on you, and the desperation was so rooted he nearly stole the very breath from your lungs. The sheer intensity, the longing implied broke your heart to the point you attached yourself to him, wrapping your arms around him and refusing to ever let him go.

The rather soft kiss began to heat up, as Chris broke the seam of your lips, swirling your tongue in his, already receiving incoherent praise from deep down your throat, making the man smile against his lips as he continued. 

His hands slid further down, right to the small of your back, where he began to untie all the little bows he created for you at the dawn of the evening, the little touches of fire singeing you still. It was fascinating how effortlessly he loosened all the laces, fingers sliding through the patterns until one by one they fluttered down, until the dark red dress slackened around your chest. 

A small gasp escaped you as Chris, while creating a trail of kisses down your jaw, right down to your neck, grabs the dress from your sides, hitching it down until it falls to the floor. Leaving you practically naked save for the scraps covering your dangerously soiled underwear. 

Chris paused from his ravishing, taking a much too long look at your skin, glowing from the lamp light, and before he could stare any longer you brought your arms to your chest, suddenly becoming a little too embarassed to let him see you at your most vulnerable. 

The supposedly unfeeling criminal, however, nearly broke into a smile at your flustered nature, and grabbed onto your wrists, opening the lock to your breasts, peaked by his actions, and the thought of what was to come.

The soiled underwear was about to drip at this point.

“You’re exquisite,” was all he said, making you almost burst into tears at the praise. You pressed a long, heart shattering kiss upon his mouth, and he responded perfectly, hands sliding to your naked waist, each drum of his fingers like a tug towards a dangerous edge. 

Things began to take a turn, open mouthed kisses being plastered on the skin of your throat as the man pushed you back, further and further until the back of your knees hit the bed, stopping you in his tracks. His grip on your waist directed downwards, planting you on the mattress as his mouth descended to your collarbone, down and down until he licked your peaked nipple in a way that had you moaning obscenely loud. His husky chuckle resonated along your skin, still not pausing his trail until he hit the end of the dip of your cunt, barricaded by the fabric. 

The moment he looked up at you, that alone made you nearly undo yourself. By the increasing volume of your breathing, Chris seemed to realise so too.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he got out, watching you whimper at each touch caressing your hips. “Already about to come when I haven’t even done anything?”

“Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, wishing for those damned fingers of his to plunge inside of you. The son of a bitch was taking his time, making you wait knowing it pained you to stay like this. “Chan—”

His name on your tongue had him gritting his teeth, hands on each of your side grabbing onto your lace, and sliding your underwear down, all the way till it fell free from your legs and threw it across the room, forgotten when Chris parted his mouth at the moistened treasure between your legs. 

Those roughened hands steeled their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer till you sat right on the edge of the bed, cunt mere inches from his face. You could not even comprehend the insanity of this situation, that the hidden fantasies you dreamed of shamelessly were morphing into reality right before your eyes.

“So, so pretty,” he murmured, blowing a little air on your slick folds, earning himself a sucked in breath from his truly. “So pretty and wet, and all because of me.”

You let out a ragged breath, words of filth sounding so foreign on his tongue. It was not like he didn’t talk like the sailors living near you on the docks, but these dirty words and dirtier intentions, now all directed at you, made you feel so flustered, in a wondrous way you could not possibly describe. All you wanted was for him to keep singing this filth till you blacked out.

Chris, with the force of his hands, spread your thighs a little wider, and without warning broke his tongue from the seam of his lips, planting it upon your slit and moving it slowly over the surface.

That alone made you cry out in ecstasy.

But that was only a test, a taking on of foreign surroundings before truly welcoming himself, and by God, did he welcome himself in as more than a guest, when that tongue slid deeper and performed strokes which had you seeing all the stars in the universe. 

What was first slow teasing then became a starved hunt, tongue relishing in the sweet arousal you emitted, lapping it up brazenly as if he had been wanting to do this for a long, long time. Your blubbering grew louder with every lick, fisting the sheets behind you with such ferocity you were sure they’d tear. 

And if that wasn’t painstakingly enough, the man spread your legs a little wider, his tattooed hand, two fingers out, sliding straight inside you, making you mewl at the way they tightened they walls they journeyed in. Curling, just like they did earlier in the evening, they took their time finding the certain little spot which had you bringing the house down with your cries. 

“Ch-Chan, please, please, I’m going to—AH!” You rasped out, when the said-criminal found the sweet little undoing of yours and stroked your fingers along the sensitive spot, making that bundle of pleasure resonating in your back appear once more, like a low throbbing begging to be released.

His tongue had not given you any breaks, still working ruthlessly along your clit and you cried for him to give you that sweet release, to just let you come but he had not let you be satisfied this easily. No, he wanted you writhing underneath him, wanted the final ruination to be from underneath his trousers, angered as it outlined against his leather.

You craned your head back, screaming out his name because you knew all else had abandoned you. “Chan!” Looking down, his mouth very much occupied with your cunt. Your orgasm was reaching, was on the very edge, and if he kept working on you like this he was on his way to taste the consequences of his actions.

Something about that image made you want it as a reality with a worryingly strong intensity. 

“Chan, I’m going to—” you were about to warn but were interrupted by a squeeze of your thigh, done by yours truly as if he knew. And as if he knew, the two fingers began pumping much faster, harmonising along with his tongue, and the two actions at once, fucking you with that rapidity was so pleasurable that, with the first earth-shattering cry of the night, you were driven over the edge, releasing your orgasm straight into the criminal’s face.

You felt the work of his fingers slow down, along with his tongue, that with one, final lick, he retreated from your cunt, fingers still inside you as they comforted your aching core with slow, soothing strokes. 

When he looked up at you, though, with your residue mostly upon his mouth, scattered on his cheeks, and basically a bit of everywhere, that sight alone nearly caused you to come all over again. 

Perhaps that was his intentions. 

Because when he licked his lips clean of your mess, ever so slowly, as if enjoying your orgasm like a man starved, you instantly saw in his eyes that this night was not over yet. 

“Already so good, so wonderful,” he mused, slipping his fingers out, both hands now resting on your thighs. “Coming so quick even though I had been saving for the last.”

You knew exactly what he meant, but still had the nerve to ask, “The last?”

He raised a groomed brow, and that gesture was so breathtaking, more so when he raised himself slightly, so he knelt eye-level to you. “Don’t act oblivious, love,” he mused, leaving your thighs to your disappointment, but quickly diminishing when his fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping upon, each patch of skin being revealed like a show of your own. “We both know this isn’t how it’s going to end.”

Shivers crawled down your spine, but you only watched as the man finished undoing his shirt, peeling it off of him and throwing it amongst the other clothing. You nearly let spit trail down your chin at the sheer finery of his muscle alone, sharpened at his arms, his chest all the way down to his v-line, which dipped dangerously low. With no small amount of pride, you also noticed the large, angry outline of Chris’ cock, begging to be set free. 

The man caught you blatantly staring, and a shit-eating grin twisted his glistening lips. “You may do the honours if you’re so keen.”

Blushing, you mumbled a shut up, but was captured by Chris’ lips, tasting your own arousal on his tongue, as his grip on you led you further into the bed, while you fumbled on the buttons of his trousers, popping them open one by one when you broke from the kiss, your turn to shower him with more along the veiny expanse of his neck as you pulled his trousers down, tossing them among the pile.

When you saw the slight-stained underwear of his, you felt the familiar throbbing again, so affected by how you affected him. Noticing your apparent pride, he pressed his lips upon you in a searing kiss, peeling off any last scrap of clothing and forgetting that too among the other clothing.

And by God, when Chris Bang’s cock escaped from his underthings your mouth actually watered at the sheer size it bore. Husky laughter resonated in your ears, and you flushed the colour of blood when he caught you staring much too audaciously than he would have imagined. 

“Already fantasising about my cock?” He slurred, the tattooed hand curling stray hairs from your sweat-slick, flushed face. The way you scrunched your nose, clearly flustered by his comment, melted his stone cold heart, as he caressed your cheeks with his fingers. 

You did not answer him, only whispering his name along his skin, waiting and waiting for the man to drive that force home inside you. “Chan,” you murmured, and the name you kept saying like a religious chant, like it was the only word that mattered, was what brought him to grip his cock, directing it against your entrance, the still slick folds which grew more wet every time the tip caressed the sensitive skin. “Chan, please—”

“Please what?” He demanded, demanded because he needed to hear you precisely want you wanted. The words he practically prayed would be on your tongue the moment he kissed you for the first time this evening.

Obliging him was like second nature. “Please fuck me, Chan,” you breathed out, holding onto his shoulders, knowing you were going to need a hell of a good grip for what was about to arrive. “Please, just ruin me with your cock.”

A malicious smile curled upon his lips. “Good, good girl,” he purred, and began the descend which you dreamed of the very first night you realised you were ridiculously attracted to him.

His cock slid inside you, and with a soul-wrenching whine, was perfectly snug as the journey went on, and on, and on, until you were certain you could not take anymore, despite the man retaining a few inches. He was slow at first, making sure you were not going to be pained by this action. Although your nails dug into the granite muscle of his shoulders, you only egged him on. “M-more,” you only said, and he readily obliged, until you felt him all around you in your body, as if he had filled you up to the brim. 

“Ready?” He asked, and when you nodded, he rested his forehead against yours as gently, he began to pull out. 

You nearly whined at the lack of inches filling you up, but then he brought his cock back in, creating this hypnotic rhythm which was so unimaginably ethereal you felt yourself float amongst the clouds. Each thrust out and thrust in was a drive in and out of reality, with Chris Bang holding the tether of your survival, pulling you in and out of his mercy. 

Gradually, he began to fasten, panting as his drove into you with more force, and when the momentum hardened, you felt your soul leave your body. His cock created wonders for you, having you scream in unimaginable pleasure, and driving your nails into his back was not enough, your lewd moaning not enough given to his sheer skill, his pure simplicity in bringing his cock back and front which had you seeing stars. Hell, Christopher Bang showed you undiscovered universes, leading you across galaxies and unfamiliar cosmos, each thrust in a different vision, and when he lifted your leg a little higher for more access, you feared that you would wake the whole docks with your groaning, for this criminal, this heartless criminal provided you with the whole universe with the simple strokes of his cock inside you, and all you could offer him were screams. 

Even your reactions were pure Beethoven to his ears, relishing in your fucked out state as he gave you all he asked, driving you to the edge of the world. You, finally, clashed your lips against his, offering him sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over his face and neck, and that alone had him greeting his teeth, knowing his own release was near. You were going to die if he was not given the same pleasure as you, so you reacted with each of his touches, each of his thrusts, him practically pistoning you upon this bed which very much would break. 

“Ch...Chan…” you grated out, eyes blurring, vision completely fucked, “I’m...I-I—”

“I—fuck,” he too got out, for your last love mark painted onto to the curve of his neck nearly had him ruined. “I’m going to come, too, love—”

“Chan!” You whined, because the throbbing was there, and was so close that if the man did not send that last thrust home then it was all for nothing, everything that had ever happened will all be for nothing.

But he listened. The man who did not listen to anyone or anything listened, and pounded his cock so hard in approval that it had you crying out to the cosmos as you finally let go, orgasm spilling out from whatever space the residue could find between his cock. Your own release had Chris groaning louder than he had even done this entire time, praising you unconditionally, until the filth was cut off by a low curse, with his own release barrelling into you, some joining your spilled mess upon the sheets.

Chris let out a shuddering breath, slowly crossing his movement inside you. Carefully, when you stopped digging your nails into his shoulders, he pulled out, reaching for the blanket untouched and bringing it over you and him before collapsing beside you. Both of you breathed as if you had held your oxygen for a thousand years, chests rising unevenly. 

A silence hung over you two, heavy yet not uncomfortable, lingering in your bedroom. Chris sat up a little, using your pillows behind him as comfort as he raked his hair back, sweat-slick all over, much like you. You held the blanket right up to your chest, hair in disarray, much like your heart. The poor organ threatened to collapse at the events.

Sneakily, you caught a glance at the greatest criminal in London, staring off at the distance, mouth set in a concentrated line. He looked dashing even in his post-sex state, the lines of his chest still stark against his sweat. You truly had never seen a man this beautiful in your life. 

He turned his head to you, catching your staring, and when you tried to look away he captured his chin with his fingers, making you meet his fierce stare. Although dark, the lust had satiated, and instead held passive affection. Well, you hoped it did.

“Why do you still look away?” He demanded in a low, tired voice.

You tried to slide your gaze to the lamp, but was too bewitched by his midnight eyes. “Because you’re beautiful, Chan,” you answered, feeling the blood rush to your face. 

He cocked his head, damp curls sticking to his face. “You say that as if you are not,” he countered. 

You did not say anything then. Even so, he received your answer. 

“____,” he said in a low tone. The grip on your chin loosened, and the hand went to your cheeks, cupping your face. “You are truly flawless. Don’t make me have to make you believe that.”

A small smile hinted at your lips. “And what if I still don’t?”

His answering smirk sent butterflies tumbling once again. After a moment, as if hesitating, he then snaked his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You were surprised when his one hand fully encircled you, while the other hand, the tattooed hand, rested upon your head, stroking your hair with his slender fingers. You did not pull away, was never going to, only wrapping your arm across his chest. 

It was the first time you had ever seen Christopher Bang hug someone in his life.

“Chan?” You asked.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you get that tattoo?”

He paused for a minute, never ceasing his fingers intertwined in your locks. After a small sigh, which you felt beneath your own fingertips, he said, “It is simply something I live by. 

“Non ducor duco. No one will lead me, love. Only myself.”

You pondered over the roots of this phrase, of the significance for the man you lay with. 

“Good,” you said after a while. “I wouldn’t want anyone leading you either.”

With that, you gave into the soothing movement of Chris’ fingers, working lazily in your hair. And while you dozed off to sleep, the criminal mastermind of the biggest city in the world pondered some more, specifically over his motto.

NON DUCOR DUCO. A phrase which had stayed true for so long no one could ever change it.

But after tonight, as you slowly dozed off under Chris’ caresses, he wondered whether there isn’t one person he wouldn’t mind being led by. 

And as he stole a soft glance at the specific person beside him, he knew. 

He knew that although he will be led by no man, there is one woman who he would, to his own shock, happily be led for. 

So, with that new, and slightly terrifying revelation, Christopher Bang went to sleep, knowing that someone had fucked with him and gotten away. 

And he was willingly going to let it happen. 

[nepenthendline]

S/O that self-harms and has an eating disorder -  Tsukishima, Tendou and Sugawara

TRIGGER WARNING AHEAD: SELF HARM AND EATING DISORDERS

I’m dumb and accidentally posted this half done so thats why the requests are in screenshots 

I’ve added these two requests together as they’re about the same topic. Firstly I just wanted to let anon though that I’m absolutely fine writing about these topics so you don’t need to worry! I will, however, make it extremely clear on these posts about the trigger warnings and I won’t go into intense detail so that it’s more accessible, I hope that’s ok! And thank you for your lovely words! 🥰🥰 I have added trigger warning tags for those who need to blacklist this, but please please let me know if you need me to add any others

I know there are so many people who are struggling with these issues, especially at the moment with covid, I’ve been there too and I’m still dealing with these things myself so I want you to know that if you need to talk to someone, or you’d like an emergency request, then my askbox and messages are always open. You are not alone, you are not ‘strange’ for dealing with these things, and I promise you things will get better, I’m already proud of any progress you have made and you should be too. It’s ok to have worse days and to fall back into negative spaces, you’re human!

Also, these will be following my own mental health hcs of these guys that I’ve already posted so check that out first!

Tsukishima:

Tsukishima is the one who understands this the most

he’s been there, he’s struggled with those things and he is still fighting

if you didn’t tell him upfront about your struggles, he would have easily found out by himself quite quickly

since he has been through it himself, he knows the warning signs to look out for, so when you start covering your arms more often even with the hotter weather, or make a passing comment that you aren’t hungry at meal times, he knows it’s his time to step up as a support system

he isn’t going to be particularly forward about it, he’s not the type to come up to you out of the blue and ask questions because he knows some of them can’t be answered, so he takes things into his own hands

he spends more quiet time with you, just the two of you cuddling in your bed as he brushes his fingers over your body

while it may seem like a usual calming display of affection, he is really searching your body for any marks or wounds that are new

he tries to coax your feelings and worries out of you, telling you that you can trust him and that he isn’t going to run away

he knows that he can’t expect you to open up without him doing so either, so he lays himself out for you

he tells you what he has been through, he shows you the scars on his body, he lets you into his heart and his head so that you know you aren’t alone

once you both spill your stories, you don’t talk about it much after that, you both know what is going on so it’s just a matter of taking care of each other

regarding food, he isn’t going to force you to eat huge meals, because he has a small appetite even when he’s eating perfectly fine

but he is going to try and get you eating little amounts consistently throughout the day

you don’t want to eat a full meal? that’s fine, but he is going to be passing you little snacks every few hours so that you at least have some fuel in your body

he’s a smart guy, he knows how the body functions at its best and he will do his best to teach you too in hopes that knowing what your body needs and how it reacts to certain situations will aid you to treat it better

he’s not going to wrap you up in bubblewrap and shield you from the world either, but he will do his best to make sure that there isn’t anything you can easily hurt yourself with in your reach

he’ll put sharp objects on the top shelves, saying it’s just to piss you off about your height

he also always keeps a first aid kit on him in case of emergencies, something he has gotten into the habit of over the last few years

he’s not going to sit there and tell you everything is going to be perfect or to just ‘get over it’, it’s going to be a long process with both of you learning and fluctuating every day, but you’ll both get there eventually

Tendou:

Tendou is extremely attentive, he knows exactly when your mood has changed or if something is wrong

he’ll leave it for a little while to see if you’ll come to him yourself, but if you don’t, then he’ll start asking questions

they start off as simple, casual questions to check up on you, like ‘how are you feeling today?’, ‘how was your day today?’, before they go into specifics if he feels like you aren’t being honest with him

he’s the type of guy that makes ‘jokes’ about his depression, even going as far as joking about suicide or self-harm, and when he notices you flinch ever so slightly at his words, he knew what was going on

he brings it up one day as if talking about the weather while reading manga together

“you’ve been hurting your own body, haven’t you?”

he tries to keep the conversations a light-hearted as possible, saying how you are now ‘scar buddies’ as he lifts up his shorts to show you his thighs

he understands that what he says isn’t really going to do much, but he’s still going to shower you with compliments and affection in the hopes that it brightens your mood and distracts you even a little

distraction is his main way of helping you - if he can keep you busy then there’s less chance of you hurting yourself in his eyes

he’s going to call you over or turn up to your room unannounced with a book in hand to read together, or invite you to cuddle with him as you have an anime binge session, he also wants to make sure you’re getting outside enough so walks to get ice-cream and sit in the park happen frequently

he knows he can’t ‘cure’ you or actually make things better, so he mentions about seeing a therapist if you aren’t already and he will support you every step of the journey if you do decide to seek help

like Tsukishima, he also has a smaller appetite in general so he doesn’t expect you to eat tons

he uses prompts often to try and get you to eat more, such as “babyyyy I’m hungry, let’s go down to the cafeteria together and get some food ok?” or “I bought this jumbo pack of ramen but I can’t eat it all myself, come give me a hand?”

he likes getting you sweet treats too, they often make him feel a little perkier so he hopes they will for you as well

he isn’t going to give them any details, but he will ask his team to keep an eye on you if he isn’t around

he likes to use rating systems with you to determined how you’re doing in the day, whether that be on a scale of 1-10, or texting him a particular emoji that signals if you’re having a bad day

he will never get mad or annoyed at you if you relapse, he understands its a journey that will have it’s ups and downs, but he always reminds you of how far you’ve come and how proud he is

Sugawara:

out of these three boys, Sugawara is the one who understands this the least

he’s never dealt with this issues himself, and he has never been around those who have besides those who struggle with anxiety

even though he can’t empathise, he is naturally an extremely caring person so he wants to do his best to understand

he reads up on self-harm and eating disorders to learn about how they originate, how to notice warning signs and what he can do to help you best

he comes to you a lot as well, asking if there is anything he should know or that he can do for you

while he may not notice these issues themselves straight away, he is always checking up on you in general so he can tell if there is something a little off

it breaks his heart to know that you intentionally harm yourself and it takes him a little while to wrap his head around it

he knows he can’t do much to help the issues you face directly, so he makes sure you are keeping up with more general self-care, such as showering, getting some little exercise everyday, indulging in your hobbies and talking to him and other friends

if you need to rely on him for a little while you’re trying to get back on your feet then that’s fine with him, he is more than happy to remind you to do things to take care of yourself and help you do them too

Sugawara is the most forward when it comes to you getting help from a doctor or therapist

he has a couple serious talks with you about how you need to find a method of battling this, whether that be therapy or medication

as much as he wants to be, he can’t take this away from you

he starts stocking his bag with emergency items too, things like bandages, healing ointment or any safe foods that you can eat

to help your eating, he does his best to make food become part of your regular routine in hopes that it will make eating become more familiar and less daunting

this means regular meal times and creating lists of safe foods with you that you feel you can eat better than others

he will do his best to make sure all your meals have the right nutrients for your body and also recommend you take vitamin supplements daily in case you have a bad eating day and cannot get them through your food

it frustrates him that he can’t do more for you, or that he can’t understand exactly how you feel, but he never shows you that

he will always have his arms open for you if you need support and he will never ever blame you for the struggles you deal with, he reminds you constantly that there will be better days and he is going to be with you through all of them

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 9 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.7k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: fanservice. that's it. that’s the tweet.

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART NINE

"Okay, just sign your name here, and she'll come to get you when she's ready." The cheery girl at the front desk told you.

You offered her a polite smile, walking over to the sit in the waiting room.

You always disliked these chairs. We were willing to bet money that these chairs have sat in this very room since your university first opened, worn out, uncomfortable, and outdated. Sure, maybe you had been in a bit of a sour mood lately – what with your fake ex-boyfriend dirty dicking you and all – but as you sat there, metal rod poking your spin, you couldn't help but frown.

As you sat there contemplating your school's renovation budget, you hardly noticed the sound of another student walking in and over to the front desk, your stomach churning as you put a face to those loose curls.

"Hey, stranger! What are you doing here?" Kiri's white teeth blinded you, walking over to you once her business with the receptionist was done.

You could feel one of your eyebrows twitch in irritation, swallowing down your scoff as she sat next to you.

"Trying to schedule my class next semester." You responded uninterestedly, contemplating whether or not the suspension from decking Kiri in the face would be worth it.

"Oh, just picking up a termination form. One of our newbies wants to pull out of Kappa Alpha Tau."

Shocker...

"Hey, so sorry to hear things with Jungkook and you didn't work out, by the way." Kiri flashed you a sympathetic look.

An audible breath left your lips, disbelief no doubt visible on your every feature. Did Kiri seriously think you didn't know it was her who home wrecked? Or was she just that much of a raging bitch?

"If you ever need someone to, like, talk to, just know that I'm here. I totally know what you're going through."

Your hands found themselves curling into tight balls in an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. Kiri looked as cool as a cucumber in front of you, perfectly composed, not a single hair out of place.

Then it hit you.

Of course. It all made perfect sense now.

From the moment she came up to you at your event offering her condolences, she had been trying to drive you off from Jungkook. She was planting seeds of doubt about their break up and his character. Manipulation and intimidation were her cards, and she played them well.

Fine. If the rules were being bent, you might as well disregard them altogether. You relaxed your hands.

"Oh, no worries. It's all good, I mean, it's not like we were actually dating." You shrugged.

Rule #2: No one can know the truth.

"What?" Kiri blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment.

You edged closer to her, cocking your head in mock surprise.

"Oh... did you not know that? That our entire relationship was contractual?"

"What are you talking about?" Her full brows furrowing.

You let out a sigh, "Yeah, so, basically, Jungkook would get his frat to fund my event if I helped make you jealous so that you'd come crawling back to him."

The polite mask that Kiri had plastered on finally cracked, her next words clipped and curt.

"What the hell is your damage, Y/N? Do you think I'm some sort of idiot how'd fall for that?"

"Good grief, did Jungkook not tell you? Weird, I feel like that's something he'd need to tell his girlfriend." You puffed out your bottom lip in mock sympathy.

Whatever resolve Kiri had built up crumbled at the way you held her stare, a note of honesty in your voice that she couldn't shake.

"I'm..." She cleared her throat, turning her nose up. "We're not actually back together yet."

"No? Really? Hmm..."

The call of your name crossed the room, and the two of you turned to look at the receptionist, ushering you over with the news that your counselor was ready for you.

You turned to Kiri with a smile, "Guess he didn't want you back as so much as he just wanted back in your pants."

Kiri looked utterly stunned, eyes wide as you stood from your seat, for once, without a clue as to what to say.

"See ya around, Kiri. Let's do lunch sometime. Oh and, happy holidays!" You fluttered your fingers at her, slipping away from her with a smugness you couldn't be assed to hide.

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"Wait... he called you?!" Taehyung laughed, eyes wide.

Yara nodded, scouring through the shelves, a specific book in mind. Belinda Carlisle was playing softly overhead and Yara found herself humming along.

As the holidays rolled around and everyone found themselves back in their hometowns, Yara was surprised to find Jungkook's frat brother browsing through the jam aisle in her local supermarket. As luck would have it, Jungkook's genetically blessed frat brother was from her hometown, the two somehow never crossing paths until now.

What started as a polite catchup over coffee, quickly turned into an everyday thing, the two of them realizing they had more in common than friend drama.

"He did!" Yara enthused. "He left a voicemail apologizing and rambled about how he wanted Y/N's address so he could go apologize, blah, blah, blah."

"That idiot." Taehyung rolled his eyes. He watched as she let out a noise of excitement, looking over her shoulder to announce that she had found the book she was in search of. He grinned in response.

"Anyway, I didn't call back. Because that's exactly how she wants to spend Christmas morning, with that jockstrap knocking at her door, right?"

Taehyung snorted, bringing the straw of his drink to his mouth.

"Miriam is gonna have your head on a stick Lord of the Flies style if she catches you with that drink in her library." Yara warned, to which Taehyung dismissed with a wave of a hand.

Yara was a funny girl; he was pleasantly surprised to bump into her during winter break. He could tell something was off when they first ran into each other, so he invited her out to grab some coffee. It was over a warm cup of coffee – with the most absurd amount of sugar he had ever seen – that she finally shared with him all that had been weighing on her mind lately.

Sure there was the Jungkook and Y/N stuff. Yara was beyond homicidal. Taehyung was grateful for winter break as he was positive she would have rung out Jungkook's neck had she seen him after what had happened. Taehyung himself was astounded to find out what exactly was true nature of the two's relationship, curtesy of Yara, of course. Even if it was fake, however, he knew Jungkook enough to know that the happiness he gave off once Y/N entered his life wasn't.

But more than that, the petite girl was worried about a boy, an irritating one who Taehyung happened to be frat brothers with. Eunwoo had approached her immediately after Kiri left him, spewing some excuse about only dating Kiri because he couldn't get Yara out of his mind.

It was bullshit if you asked Taehyung. But he hadn't the heart to tell Yara that, especially with the way she looked so torn up about it – unsure of how to respond to Eunwoo. He wasn't entirely sure what their relationship was like, but he figured it must have meant enough to her to have her feeling this conflicted.

So he did his best to cheer her up, inviting her for lunch and driving her to their local library, which he had come to find out was her favorite place growing up. They spent many afternoons sprawled out on the couches in the now abandoned children's section of the library... or at least until the crabby librarian yelled at them to leave.

If Taehyung was honest, he didn't care much for literature – he was a math guy – but the way Yara would shove a book into his chest with wide eyes and an 'if you don't read this and tell me your thoughts on it, I'll literally die,' seemed reason enough to keep showing up day after day.

"Have you talked to her about Eunwoo, yet?"

Yara flinched at the blond man's words.

"Why don't we ever talk about normal people stuff? Like the weather, or what sports team played last night."

"Yara..."

"Oooh!" She exclaimed suddenly, "I know, let's talk about President Reagan. Did you hear his speech about tearing down the wall in Germany? Crazy stuff–"

"Dude, why are you so scared to tell her about Eunwoo? You told me." Taehyung interrupted, quirking up a brow. Yara held his eyes for a moment before sighing.

"I just don't want to bring it up to Y/N, you know? She has enough going on..."

"So? She's your best friend. She'll want to help."

"Exactly! She's going to want to comfort me and make me feel better – which will just make me feel worse." Yara groaned, leaning back against the bookshelf.

"I'm... not following." The frat boy admitted.

Surely girls aren't usually this hard to understand.

"Look, I know you'd only known me for a little while, but let me pencil you in. I have a reputation, okay? Yara doesn't get hung up on some dumb boy." Yara wagged her finger at him.

"Does Yara usually talk about herself in the third person?" Taehyung chuckled.

"Yara," she continued, paying the boy no mind, "is an independent woman who likes one night stands and sex without strings. She doesn't like clingy boys getting into her head and confusing her."

Taehyung nodded, "So basically, Yara is scared of catching feelings."

"Shh! Don't tell Yara about what Yara doesn't want to hear." She turned her nose up at him, pushing herself back off the stand to march away from him. Taehyung reached for her arm without hesitation, stopping her departure with a sigh.

"Look, I don't mean to be on your ass about this, but clearly, you feel something for this kid. Otherwise, you wouldn't be spending all your time pining over him."

Taehyung immediately wished he could take back those words as an offended look fell across the petite girl's face, her hands falling onto her hips, clearly displeased.

"Pining? You think I'm pining over Eunwoo?"

Taehyung shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to navigate this situation. As much as he liked Yara, she did spark a healthy dose of fear into him.

"Well... I mean... you're spending your whole break with me just because I can give you a ride to the library so you can read sad romance novels and cry."

"First of all," Yara began, "I happen to enjoy your company. You're a good listener and, frankly, very nice to look at."

Surprise fell over Taehyung, "Nice to look at?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know." She waved him off, "Secondly, I've never cried. I've let out a sniffle at most."

"Fine, so you're not pining over him. Just get back together with him." He responded.

"I can't."

Taehyung frowned, "Then turn him down."

"I can't do that either." She frowned right back.

"Dude."

"I'm scared, okay!" She whined, thumping a foot against the library's carpeted floor.

"Of what? What's holding you back from going back to Eunwoo?"

"...He told me he loves me."

"And?"

"And I don't even know what that means!" Yara threw her hands up in exasperation, the sleeve of her swear falling down her forearms. "I don't know how to love him back or be a good girlfriend – which I know is what he wants from me."

"Yara, I hope you don't feel like you don't owe Eunwoo anything. Because you don't." Taehyung grew serious, which only caused the torn girl to pout.

"I know, I just... I mean, I don't hate him. But it's scary. Whenever I'm dating someone, I get all up in my head like... Am I supposed to be this someone's person? Possibly forever? What the fuck!"

"No, I get it. It's a lot of pressure." He shrugged powerlessly.

"Exactly! I don't want to have to try and love someone. I want to do it. Like... not to sound like a sappy idiot but sometimes I think about all those stories I read," she gestured towards the books beside her, "about feeling a spark when you kiss your person and just... I dunno. Would be fucking nice, instead of this complicated bullshit."

Yara was far from a hopeless romantic. As much as she loved to read about romance, she had an innate urge to flee the moment the word love came around. Still, she could appreciate the idea of it.

"So then forget about that stuff. Forget about labels and expectations. Just be with whoever you want to be with. Have fun, worry about the heavy shit later."

Taehyung had a very soothing effect whenever he spoke. His tone was low and lovely, and despite the way Yara's head was still running a mile a minute, she appreciated the boy's docile nature. Certainly made her feel a whole lot less anxious.

"I want to. That's how this whole thing with Eunwoo started, ya know?" She admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. "But all men are the same. They say they're fine with keeping it casual, but they always end up falling for me, which, duh, understandable..."

The blond boy let out an airy snicker, a direct challenge to Yara's words.

"Something funny, Tae?" She pressed.

"C'mon, that's not true." He rolled his eyes breezily.

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to my four ex-partners who are all still in love with me."

"Maybe you just haven't met the one. You know... your knight-in-no-strings-attached-armor."

"I'm telling you, no such guy exists." Yara emphasized with a poke into Taehyung chest.

He grabbed the jabby finger reflexively, his long fingers wrapping around the small digit, setting his drink on the nearest shelf.

"Yara."

"Seriously, I've done my research! You're looking at a hot commodity, buddy. I may be a raging homebody, but I am very efficient—"

Suddenly, the petite was trapped against the bookshelf with Taehyung hovering over her, a large hand on either side of her head.

"Please stop talking."

Yara's cheeks flushed in surprise as she met the handsome boy's warm eyes, growing even hotter as he leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers.

He smelled distinctly of vanilla, and it sent her stomach fluttering, reeling in the way he gripped her waist, pulling him into her. She would've lost herself in the feeling of his soft lips moving against hers if it weren't for a cough ringing out from somewhere in the library.

Yara broke the kiss short, ears red as she brought her hands to wrap around her torso defensively, trying her hardest to ignore the way her heart was pounding against her chest as if trying to escape.

"You kissed me!" She scoffed, trying her hardest to seem unaffected. Taehyung shrugged.

"You kissed me back."

Oh god, this was bad. She felt all light and giddy tucked away in this corner of the library, the gorgeous tall man still close in proximity, looking at her through a smirk.

"Yes, well... I'm a very go with the flow kind of gal." She defended, brows furrowed adorably.

"Relax, Yara."

"Well, what the hell was that precisely?! Do you just make out with all your library buddies? Is there some sort of library buddy étiquette I'm not aware of?"

"I kissed you because I wanted to. Kissing is fun." He shrugged. "Some guys just want that, you know."

Son of a bitch.

"You got balls, Goldilocks. Understood. Message received, loud and clear." Yara acknowledged through narrowed eyes.

"Happy I could help, bookworm."

A corner of her mouth turned upwards, admittedly amused.

"Just so we're on the same page... you're not in love with me? You just smooched me for fun?" She looked at him skeptically.

"Sorry you had to find out this way." Taehyung joked, earning him an eye roll.

"And you don't have some ex-lover you need to make jealous?"

At those words, the frat boy laughed heartily, head shaking a firm no.

"Wicked."

Yara hopped onto the balls of her feet, hoping to catch the blond's kiss once more when her mouth met the hardcover of a book instead. She sank back down with an annoyed huff; Taehyung had pulled a book from the nearest self in reach, holding it up between them to pause the eager girl's ministrations.

Poking his head out from behind the book cheekily, he flashed her a lopsided grin.

"Easy there, tiger. What about Eunwoo?"

Yara held his eyes for a moment, wondering how she hadn't noticed what a pretty brown they were until now. She let out an appreciative hum.

"What about him?" She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk on her lips that had Taehyung leaning back over to meet it with one of his own.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me." You greeted him with a cautious smile as he slipped into the chair across from you.

You were nervous, to say the least, watching the tall man shift in his seat, trying to grow comfortable despite the uncomfortable circumstances.

"This place is disorienting." Erik scanned the mall cafeteria before flashing you a charming smile. "Thought you'd get tired of waiting and head back home. I apologize for my tardiness."

"No worries. I still don't know my way around at the mall, and I've been home for weeks." You grinned back.

A pleasant beat of silence passed between the two ex-lovers, each taking a moment to consider the other. Erik looked a lot older than he did in high school; he had on a brand new pair of glasses that suited him far better than the ones you remembered did. His hair was combed and styled smartly so that they would stay out of his eyes. A stark contrast from the long-haired boy you had come to know these past few months.

Dammit. Your eyes fell onto the red table between you two, cheeks growing warm as you realized your thoughts had drifted back to Jungkook, even with your ex-fiance sitting across from you.

Erik's voice rang out, "I'll be honest. I wasn't expecting you to call me."

"I wasn't expecting me to either." You confessed, your hands intertwining on the tabletop.

Really, you didn't have much reason to be nervous. I mean, it was Erik. Despite the end of your relationship, there was no bad blood between you two. It wasn't the first time seeing him since the breakup either... maybe it was why you had called him that had you so on edge.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from Erik. Company? A distraction? Maybe what you were asking of him was unfair, but as he placed a hand over yours reassuringly, you found the wall you had set up crumbling down.

"I can help you, but you need to talk to me, Y/N. If I could read minds, I would be a much richer man." His brown eyes rolled dramatically.

You chuckled. Same dry wit you remembered.

"I met someone."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me? Y/N, you're allowed to date other people. I understand your hesitation, but really, it is time you moved on–"

You let out a scoff, yanking your hand away from the now laughing man. You flashed him a feigned look of irritation, silently grateful for the change of pace in conversation, finding it much easier to talk when things weren't so tense.

"God, you are still just as full of yourself as I remembered." You teased.

Erik shrugged, "Not to sound like a cocky asshole, but is it not warranted?"

You let that question run through your mind. You suppose if anyone had reason to have a big head, it would be Erik. Intelligent, handsome, hard-working– everything a mother would want their daughter to have.

"It is. You've always been perfect..." You mused, a hint of sadness in your tone that Erik picked up quickly.

And all at once, his entire demeanor changed, a serious expression settling behind those frames of his.

"Tell me about him." He instructed calmly.

And so you did— the beginning, the end, and all the beautiful bits in between. You told him about a boy that challenged you in ways you never imagined– a boy who made you feel like the sun. You spoke of every stupid conversation you once thought of as meaningless but now weighed heavily on your heart and mind.

You were mad at him, of course. There was a reason you had been ignoring his calls and ordered Yara to keep him in the dark of your whereabouts, after all. But the more you talked about him, the more you lit up. Erik noticed it too. How could he not? It was that very way you spoke with an uncontainable passion that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

He watched with utmost concentration for the vocal inflections of your words, the slight movement of your brows that always seemed to speak your mind before you did.

It was clear to him that this boy wasn't just a boy. He could hear in the choice of words you used, words that were static and void of variables. But there were certain words you seemed to dance around he realized as you came to the end of the story... words that were evident to all but you.

"So... Analysis?" You breathed out, chest deflating as you took in Erik's frown.

"Above all... did you find out if he used protection? I don't want to presume anything about... was her name Kiri?" Erik paused, continuing once you nodded back at him, "but your health should be your number one concern."

"I had a friend of his ask him on my behalf. He says he used protection... I went ahead and got tested anyway, though, and I'm all good thankfully." You told him.

Whether or not Jungkook had passed along some sort of STI was heavy on your mind the next morning after you kicked him out. Thankfully, Taehyung was more than happy to get the answer you need but were still too damn pissed off to seek out yourself.

"Good." Erik sunk back into his seat, a hand coming up to run through his hair as he considered his next words. You suppose you were grateful to be able to talk to Erik like this still. Sure, he was blunt and sometimes stared at you like you were some case-study, but he didn't bat an eye of judgment at the news of the contract, for which you were grateful. He had known you for too long to find it peculiar that you'd pretend to be someone's girlfriend in exchange for furthering and fulfilling your passion project.

If anything, that was precisely in line with your character. He liked to think he instilled some of those traits into you.

"Well, frankly, I am sorry to hear this happened to you. You're a great girl; you deserve better than that."

Your neck warmed at Erik's words, slightly taken aback.

"Oh, um... thanks, that means a lot coming from you." You expressed your gratitude shyly.

Erik nodded back at you, "Seriously. It was very shitty of him to string you along for so long and for sleeping with Kiri despite knowing how you felt."

"Oh."

"Oh?" He frowned, not expecting your response.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, pausing to watch a woman with a stroller walk past your table.

"Well..." you cleared your throat, "I'm not actually sure that he knows that I, um, like him... like that."

God, this was mortifying. The first time you had admitted you liked Jungkook and it was to your ex-fiancé? Sometimes you swear you were the protagonist in a mediocre rom-com film and no one was telling you.

Erik paused, "I see. And does he know now?"

"...No."

"I see." He sat up, fingers tapping against the table in interest. He quirked up a brow at you. "Perhaps it wasn't just him who was dishonest."

You scrunched your nose at him, not liking what you were hearing. It wasn't anything that hadn't already kept you up, tossing and turning in bed at 2 AM, of course. You had a feeling this was where this conversation would lead to. Erik, as genius as he was, was fairly predictable in this sense. Rational, dependable... nothing like the spontaneous boy you had fallen for.

"So? Even if he knew, what would that change? He slept with her..." You grumbled stubbornly.

"And maybe he wouldn't have if he had known."

You crossed your arms, "You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. I don't even know the guy. But you do." He continued, offering you a suggestive look.

Huh. Did you think that would have stopped Jungkook? And even so, would that fact alone be enough to get you to forgive him?

"I... I don't know." Was your conclusion, pulling a hum from Erik.

"Guess the only way to know would be to discuss it with the meathead himself."

"I just... I don't want to get my heart broken again. I, quite literally, didn't sign up for this." You placed your face into your hands, hating how rational Erik had to be.

"My guess? He didn't either. It seems as if you both got more than you bargained for." He shrugged.

"He's definitely not at all what I was expecting..." You trailed off glumly.

When you first met Jungkook, he was obnoxious, cocksure, and grotesquely unbothered. You swore you had never hated anyone more on the first meet. But as you came to know him, you found in him a lot of what you wished you found in yourself. Approachable, flexible, spontaneous...

You just wished it all didn't have to hurt so bad.

"You and I are a lot alike, you know." Erik spoke up once he noticed you fall silent. " And I only realized this recently, but I think that was our downfall. When I asked you to marry me, what I was asking of you... Well, it was unfair. Because I know I would never accept that if I were in your shoes."

Your head shot up at his words, hands quick to wave at him dismissively. Asking him to meet you here was not to discuss what had gone wrong in your relationship, and you didn't want him to think that it was.

"Erik, that's okay you don't have to—"

"No, no, what I mean is... we made perfect sense together and it didn't work out in the end. This meathead of yours is nothing like you and maybe it's for the better. You said it yourself that he makes you feel important and formidable." He pressed on.

"Are you trying to imply the notion of opposites attract? Because I personally believe that's a myth and that we're drawn to those similar to us—"

"Puzzle pieces."

"Wha— Huh?" You blinked, blind-sighted by the calm man's sudden words.

Suddenly, Erik readjusted in his seat, leaning in close as he nodded his head.

"Think of life as one big puzzle, and everyone you meet is shaped differently, right? Yet somehow... they fit. We find those that complete us. And they're not necessarily opposites but—"

"But different pieces in the puzzle." You sighed, understanding the metaphor.

You raised a brow at the intellectual man, "That was uncharacteristically poetic of you. I thought you were a man of science... since when do you rely on literary devices to get your point across?"

Erik let out a dramatic sigh, fingertips pressed to the rip of his glasses, leaning back into his seat as if showing his greatness.

"I'm a growing man, Y/N. Science helps you understand the mind and the body, but as far as the heart goes... there's only so much it can tell us." He tutted wisely with a wag of his pointer finger.

"Wow. I dig this character development. I quite like this new you."

"Wanna get married now?" He deadpanned suddenly, a laugh ripping out of you at his unexpected words.

Erik grinned at the familiar sound, also finding the humor within his joke. He was pleased to see that if anything, he could at least momentarily take your mind off of your heart's turmoil.

"Ask me again in another three years." You rolled your eyes, grinning wide, to which Erik threatened that if Jungkook didn't by then, then he just might.

[ihaveafandom-problem554]

i love your works oh my god, the wait was so worth it. thank you for doing my requests!! they all turn out great :D despite my username, I’m glad I made an account just so that I could request more of your spider bro content.

okay so uh I’m sorry if I’m requesting this a bit early since you only posted your latest spider bro today but after reading it, a sudden wave of problems and curiosity hit me so I thought:

‘yo aren’t the village gonna question why spider bro and rui only come around during sunset to night time sooner or later? are they gonna make up some excuse about them having some condition where if they stay in the sun for just a little bit they get really bad sunburn?? like “yeah so our parents died because they went out in the sun for too long so newbie demon slayers noticed this and thought they were demons in disguise and killed them, haha runs in the family amiright” idk ?? (sorry that’s a weird death) I like to imagine they pretend to be albino so that they can have an excuse in case someone ever asks them or say that they have jobs in the day time to support each other so they just visit around night time.

but honestly, I think the village would be a little sus of them but then they’ll be like “ehh they can’t be demons, they would’ve ate us already! plus they’re just so kind!!” so yeah.. (unless the village doesn’t really know about demons, then you can just ignore this)

okay so imma just start putting my ideas and prompt in here yeahh ..

so what I imagine is that the village knows about demons, but most just chalk it up as some sort of folklore to keep kids from wondering at night by themselves. however some (mostly the elders) claim to actually experience demon attacks so despite practically everyone living these two, they have their eyes on them just a bit..

the elders there would usually gather some kids and tell stories about demons roaming the night hunting for humans, and there would be people who would be as strong or stronger than the demons and slay them by cutting their heads off with a special blade- they say that there’s a whole organization dedicated for these specific people! and that those people who would sometimes come to the village with an odd uniform on are part of them.

one day while spider bro and rui visit the village, ashai drags them to where his grandfather would tell stories about demons and how the grandfather’s father were part of that organization and was called a “hashira” who mastered the sun breathing.

after that ashai would be like “that’s just gramps being all weird again with his whole demon slayer stuff, but it’s pretty interesting! it’s only a folklore though so you have nothing to be scared of. honestly, there’ll be times where I think you’re both demons or something because you guys act like you don’t know how to function as a human being sometimes, haha” and the spider bros would just be like “aha.. yeah..”

some of the elders start noticing that they only came around night, and unfortunately, not everyone is friendly. they kind of start interrogating them to the point where the other villagers would politely step in and tell them that they’re just kids with a condition that runs in their family (and rui becoming fed up then almost slashing them into ribbons). of course, a small portion of them don’t stop and are.. quite positive of it and would be a bit passive aggressive towards the two.

alright so I’ve come up with some ways it could go but I have no idea, you can decide which is better or somehow merge them together or mismatch and combine things,,, :D

1: obviously, the spider siblings can’t survive on human food. they’ll need human blood, the human food is just for when they get bored of eating humans for a bit. but.. how are they gonna get some? they can’t eat the village, and as much as they found the elders annoying they couldn’t since 1, they were pretty much right about them, and 2, if they were to eat the elders/anyone who found them suspicious even more people would start growing sus of them.

maybe.. the demon slayers that came to the village every now and then?

(name) would usually just use his spiders and take at least a cup (or two if rui’s feeling hungry) of their blood and bandage them up to go.

it lasted for a few weeks, so he thought he could control it.

him and rui did their best to try and suppress the urge, they really did.

they vowed themselves to not eat innocent people after meeting the friendly village.

but whenever a demon slayer would come to the village and whenever they took one or two cups of their blood, the more they craved just devouring them right there and then.

it was true that the two had a dislike for demon slayers, but they can’t say that most of them aren’t innocent. (I mean.. they kind of aren’t too)

they can’t do that.

but…

a few more cups won’t hurt, right?

a few days pass, and the butterfly mansion has been getting more and more demon slayers, most of them were from dangerously high blood loss, just enough for them to live and walk.. kind of.

and they all came from near the mountain.

but.. (I’m assuming this is after the fight between tanjiro and rui, but instead rui got away before tomioka could show up) didn’t tomioka, shinobu, and a few other demon slayers slay all of the demons there? unless there are a few hiding.. however they claim to not have entered the mountain, and instead went straight to a nearby village. they also claim to not have remembered anything about getting their blood taken, just waking up on a floor near the village with their arm bandaged up (it always happened at night time, too).

two or more days pass before they send some demon slayers to come investigate.

these demon slayers of course being tanjiro, inosuke, and zenitsu (plus nezuko).

when they arrived, it had been around 5 to 6, just before the spider siblings came to visit.

as they entered, tanjiro could smell a very faint scent of a demon almost everywhere (mainly around the shops and the people)- so faint that he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t searching for demons right now.

but before he could try to track it down, many young children from the village ran up to them and started excitedly asking about their uniform and their swords.

“are you guys demon slayers?”

“are grandpa’s weird demon stories are true?”

“can I touch the sword???”

it was no secret that they stood out from the crowd, and the villagers usually didn’t really question it because each demon slayer looked pretty normal and bland.

tanjiro smiled remembering his younger siblings all getting ready to eat and play during spring time.

zenitsu noticed tanjiro being confused and told them that demon slayers weren’t very well known, but it seems like it’s a folklore from around here.

and inosuke, of course was about taken aback by all of these mini humans running around them and was about to fight them until tanjiro reassured him.

ashai ran towards them thinking that rui and (name) was here a bit earlier than usual but was a bit disappointed when he got closer to clearly see their faces (and a boar head).

I TOLD MYSELF I SHOULD'VE ADDED A SCENE WHERE OLDER SPIDER BROTHER EXPLAINS TO ASHAI THAT HE GETS REALLY BAD SUNBURN BUT MY LAZY ASS SAID NO. ACTUALLY FUCK ME WHY AM I SO LAZY!?

Anyway let's do this..

Ok so the Village are familiar with demons and demon slayers but they take it as a Folklore since the grandparents keep mentioning it to the kids.

And before [Name] brung Rui, Ashai did ask him why he only came when the sunsets. And [Name] told him he was really sensitive to the sunlight, like, to the point it would actually burn him really bad.

And Ashai looked at him saying, "You could've just said you get really bad sunburn.."

And yes, his mom did smack him for saying that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hi Ashai! You seem happy today."

"[Name]! Rui!" Ashai called out, running towards the two boys. Rui immediately pouted when he noticed the voice calling up to them wasn't one of the kind ladies trying to offer him food. Meanwhile, [Name] smiled at the boy's presence and walked faster towards Ashai.

"Yeah! I want to bring you to my grandfather-”

“Why?- Wait was is that..” Rui interrupted causing Ashai to stop walking and face Rui. “You did not just ask what a grandfather is.”

“I did. Now I want an answer.” Rui demanded his facial expression not changing a bit. Ashai sighed before explaining what a grandfather was, later explaining what a grandmother was, then explaining what a great grandfather and grandmother was.

Before Rui could ask anymore questions about people’s parents, Ashai changed the subject to the reason why he wanted to take them to his grandfather. 

‘Demon slayers’ was the first thing that came out of Ashai’s mouth and it made the two spider sibling’s heart drop. Rui’s heart dropped even deeper once he heard the word ‘Hashira’. It was almost impossible to hide the fact that it bothered him greatly.

Ashai turned around to race the two, and met their petrified expressions. Thinking they were terrified about the demon folklore, he immediately stopped talking and cupped [Name]'s face to try and reassure him.

"Oh no don't worry! It's just some dumb folklore, there's nothing to worry about! The demons aren’t real, it’s just some dumb story to keep the little ones from going outside at night. Its just gramps being all weird again with his whole demon slayer stuff, but it’s pretty interesting! Again, it’s only a folklore though so you have nothing to be scared of.” Ashai says letting go of [Name]’s face and opens the door for the two siblings to walk through. “Honestly, there’ll be times where I think you’re both demons or something because you guys act like you don’t know how to function as a human being sometimes, haha” Ashai joked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit

[Name] nervously laughed back while Rui just glared.

As the 3 boys walked inside the minka, [Name] noticed no one else was there except for the old man and Madam Yui. Not only that, but there was some strange aura in the air, as if he wasn’t welcome here. Turning over to Rui, [Name] can see his uneasy expression as well. But before he got the chance to say anything, Yui spoke aloud.

“Oh! sorry boys grandpa needs to rest, I’m sure if you come back later he’ll tell you one of his stories.”

A quiet sigh of relief was emitted from Rui. “Aww, that sucks I really wanted to you guys to here some of his stories.” Ashai pouted slightly. 

“Don’t worry, he’ll be awake soon.. Ashai, go over to the bakery and get the box wrapped in blue, its for your grandfather, don’t take to long ok?”

“Ok.. [Name]! Come with me-”

“No, I need him for something, just go over to the bakery real quick, get the box and come back.”

“But-”

“Nothing sweetie.. Hi Rui” Yui smiled, hugging the demon child who had just ran up to her. “How are you baby? Did you eat the food I sent you home with?”

“Go young man.”

Knowing he couldn’t argue any further, Ashai reluctantly went over to the bakery without [Name]. “That boy is obsessed with you, isn’t he?” Madam Yui joked. Unfortunately for [Name], he was too busy staring at the door Ashai just went through to hear what Yui said, causing him to answer a couple seconds late. “H-huh”

“The tempura and Sushi? Yeah we finished it.”

“Oh, you must still be hungry.. [Name] can you close all the blinds and sweep the floor?”

“Of course!”

“Thank you dear, I’ll be in the kitchen with your brother if you need me” Yui said, walking into the kitchen with Rui.

[Name] got straight to work, closing the blinds and sweeping isn’t anything hard...But the strange aura he felt before when he first entered, intensified. It almost felt like the air gotten thicker as well.

As [Name] swept closer to the sleeping grandfather, he noticed something right next to him. Taking a closer look, [Name]'s eyes at the sight of the samurai sword. Why does it look bigger than the usual than the swords I’ve seen.

After staring at the sword for a bit, [Name] finally looked away from the sword to finish sweeping. 

“I kill your kind with this exact sword”

...

“Is that what you tell the demons before you kill them?” [Name] questions, trying his best not to show the slightest amount of fear in his voice. “Every. single. one.” [Name] nodded, but refused to face the owner of the voice and the larger than normal sword. “Your kind disgusts me. Killing innocent souls just for your selfish needs.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘Your kind’ sir-”

“Demons.” He spat. “I mean Demons.” [Name] only nodded, no words, justs movements. Speaking of movements, the old man began to get up and slowly move closer to [Name]. Shit, what do I do now?

After hearing Ashai say that his grandfather was a Hashira, [Name] knew that his age didn’t affect the way he moved. The retired hashira can block his way to the door in the matter of seconds. He didn’t want to question how fast he was compared to a sun-breathing hashira. So he put the broom down and finally face the old man who was ten feet away from him. “Who many demons did you ki-”

“You may have fooled everyone in this village with your little story. But I’m not naive.” The sun breathing hashira was now walking towards [Name]. [Name] wasted no time walking towards the kitchen, he could probably notify madam Yui..

If it wasn’t for the sun breather grabbing [Name] by the neck. "Like I said before... your kind disgust me. And don't get me started on your excuse of a leader 'Muzan kibutsuji' (I hate his last name. I've spent about five minutes trying to figure out if the first half was 'kitbust' or 'kibust'). You don't happen to have any information on him do you?" With every word, the hashira tighten his grip on [Name]'s neck. Making it harder and harder for [Name] to breathe. "And don't worry about him finding you after you tell me, I'll kill you the second I get the information I need."

"A-and...wh..if...don't..?" [Name] was barely audible and on the verge of blacking out with the insane grip on his neck. He could taste own blood at this point, but he wasn't concerned about the blood trickling out of his mouth, he was more concerned about how no one was here to save him. Madam Yui told Ashai not to take long, and the bakery isn't far away from here. So what the hell?

Without waiting another second, [Name] unleashed a tiny spider to go and kill the hashira. Sure he was Ashai's grandpa but, it was either this old man or him.

"Have nothing to say? Well that's disappointing.." [Name] could feel his eyes threatening to shut as he Choked on his own blood. "P-plea....sto..p" he tried to plead. "If it wasn't for you disgusting demons.. my wife would've still been alive. I swear, I will defeat your leader, and kill every single one of you good for nothing demons-"

"GRANDPA NO HE ISN'T A DEMON! LET HIM GO" Ashai yelled, alerting Madam Yui who came rushing out of the Kitchen, Rui not to far behind. "Put him down Grandpa! He isn't a demon!" Ashai pleaded, gripping onto his grandfather's hamari, tears threathing to spill from his eyes. "PLEASE STOP YOUR HURTING HIM!"

"Oh Ashai, this isn't what you call a friend. This is a human eating demon, that killed your- OW DAMMIT" The hashira yelled in pain, thus letting go of [Name].

Once [Name] hit the floor, he immediately sucked in as much air as he could before choking again.

"[NAME] are you ok?!" Ashai called, rushing over to help [Name]. Rui would've done the same if it wasn't for Yui protectively holding on to him.

"When was the last time you took your medicine? You almost killed him! He's only a child" Yui quickly scolded the elder. " Oh sweetheart.. that kick was so powerful it almost broke my arm. You should-"

"I'm not and won't become a demon slayer. Go back to your room and take your medicine. You almost killed him!"

"He isn't a kid. That thing is a demon.. And so is the smaller one your holding."

"They aren't demons-"

"They how come they only come out when the sun goes down?" To that Madam Yui didn't have an answer. She never really thought about why they did come when the sun isn't out. Thankfully Ashai spoke up just before the elder could prove his point. "Their both sensitive to sun the sunlight. Both their parents died because of that."

Madam Yui held Rui even tighter as she looked back at the elder. "Ashai go take [Name] to Ms. Reiki." She demanded. Without thinking Ashai immediately picked up [Name] and proceeded to carry him to whoever Ms. Reiki was.

"I know you wanna check on [Name], Rui, don't worry we'll go there in a minute." Yui reassures, while cupping Rui's left cheek. "Yui, your not this naive."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, hurting a defenseless child-"

"He isn't a child.. You know that demons basically have a unlimited lifespan? That 'kid' is most likely 40 years old"

"Your just delusional, you haven't taken your medicine all day have you?"

"I do not need that Goddamn Medi...cine.. What the hell are you staring at?!" The elder quickly spat at the small spider boy who stared at the two adults.

"Nothing.. I didn't know older people quarreled.. I thought only children quarreled." Rui said with pure innocence. "I thought when hu- people got older they learned how to settle their arguments maturely, rather than idiotic children that need someone superior than them to settle it for them"

The two adults stared at Rui, both with different intentions of what to do next. "Oh, Rui, It's-"

"Don't explain anything to that thing." The elder spat. Rui watched as the two adults argued with each other. For some strange reason Rui was invested slightly uncomfortable but couldn't help but listen to what they had to say.

Throughout this argument, Rui learned some new words..

...

"I'm so sorry about my Grandfather, [Name], my mom said he's been having some illusions lately.. I didn't expect it to get this worse." Ashai apologized for the 26th time. "Like... I said for 26th...time Ashai, its ok! I'm fine really.."

"I know but he choked you and called you a demon! Why are you so calm about it?! You could've died!"

".....But I didn't..So..Yay?..." [Name] jazzed-hand. Ashai just sighed in response.

"That's odd.." Ms. Reiki said to herself, but the boys were interested anyway. "What's is it Reiki-san?" Ashai asked, his voice full of concern. "You said your grandfather choked him right?..Oh nevermind it's probably nothing.." She dismisses. "How's your throat? Is it feeling sore?"

"Well-"

"Don't speak. Just nod or shake your head." Reiki quickly spoke. [Name] nodded slightly before smiling at Reiki. "Your welcome sweetie.. Oh! Yui, is everything.."

"Everything's ok.." The two boys turned their heads to face Yui, who had just walked in with a sleeping Rui. "[Name] I am terribly sorry for what occurred and your injuries."

"It's-"

"What did I say about speaking?"

Not wanting to know the punishment for disobeying a nurse, [Name] nodded again with a smile, hoping Madam Yui will see that he forgives her. Thankfully she understood and returned a smile. " [Name] you can go, just remember to take it easy on your throat and take the medication I gave you." [Name] obeyed and made note to throw out the medication, since it had no use to him.

Both Reiki and Madam Yui watched the [Name] walk out with his admirer, Ashai.

As they left, the two women looked at each other with worry some expressions. "How did it even happened?" Reiki asked immediately. "I'm not sure.." Yui answered in disappointment. "I was in the kitchen with Rui because he wanted a snack. Then all of a sudden I hear Ashai yelling something about a demon so I ran out to see him choking [Name]"

"Did he take his medicine? Or did he continue to rant about how he doesn't need it?"

"That exactly" Yui sighed. She looked down at the sleeping Rui she had in her hands. The only thing she could think about was how the situation would have happened if she didn't come out sooner.. Rui would've lost the only member of his family.. he would've been traumatized for the rest of his life.. "The nerve of him to call him a demon.." Yui spoke through her teeth in anger.

Taking a second to rid off any dark thoughts she turned back to Reiki. "I'm leaving now. I want the kids to eat something before they leave, have a nice night."

"Same to you as well"

...

"You need to eat a human"

"I'm aware of that.. But who am I going to eat?" [Name] questioned. It has passed a few weeks ever since the two spider siblings ate a human body. Sure, the human's food is tasty and gives them energy for a couple hours, but it doesn't give them the nutrients they need. Day by day they can feel their bodies growing weaker do to the lack of human blood in their system. [Name] could care less about his own health, he was more concerned about Rui and what he was gonna eat. Every couple minutes or so, he could here Rui's stomach growl from hunger.

It pained him to see Rui in this state. Yet he's been in this state for weeks now and [Name] still doesn't know what to do or who to eat.

"We can eat that old sun-breather" Rui suggested. [Name]'s eyes widen in response. "Or" Rui continued, "We can eat everyone else who called us a demon! We'll make them regret-"

"We can't do that.."[Name] sighed. [Name] knows that Rui's way smarter than this, but after weeks of being around humans and not being able to take a even a bite out of them, is bond to do something to the way he thinks.

"They've been accusing us for being demons, if they suddenly go missing, we would have a lot of suspicion towards us."

"If we can't eat any of the old people or anyone else at the village who can we eat?" Rui asked, completely annoyed. "It's already a problem that we can't go out during the day when the sun's out, so how can we- uhh... [Name] what- what are you doing?" Rui questioned as he watched [Name] create a small spider and send it out to go in the opposite direction towards the deeper part of the woods.

"[Name], What are you?- huh?" Rui stopped talking as he sees a demon slayer slowly walk towards him like a mindless zombie.

"You did so well sweetie~" [Name] cooed to his spider, gently petting the spiders head. "uhh.."

"mh? Oh! I heard footsteps coming while you were talking.. I don't think we can devour the body this time though.. they'll probably send in more demon slayers complaining about a demon."

Rui stared at the demon slayer who had no control over their body. It's right there in front of him, he has every right to devour the vulnerable human, but then at the same time he doesn't. Just because people don't know he's a bloodthirsty demon who needs human blood to survive.

"Cut the skin open, you can suck the blood off of that. Take as much as you want but don't take too much so they can't walk, ok?" [Name] said. "Wait what about you? You need to-"

"It's fine, you need it more than me, I'll just fine another-"

"No. Take some as well, we don't know the next time you'll get choked like that.. or be threaten with wisteria.. we might not be able to regenerate as fast as we used too. I won't take a lot.. A cup or two should be enough to last a week or so." Rui demanded. [Name] only nodded in response.

Rui examined the slayer standing in front of him, figuring out where to suck the blood out of. "Cut open wherever chubbiest and take some blood. I'll send out a couple of my spiders to grab some bandages so we can patch them up. Then we'll leave them here and continue with our day." [Name] said, already making bigger than normal sized spiders to send out to the village to steal some bandages.

"How often are we gonna do this?" Rui asked while using his threads make a 'X' formation around the slayers hips. "I guess every couple weeks? or when your feeling hungry..."

It was surprising how well they managed to control themselves for so long. After taking a little more than one cup of blood, they soon decided to reward themselves with another two cups. After being satisfied, they cleaned and bandaged the body. Later leaving it mindless on the ground waiting for sunrise to come and free it from it's curse.

The spider siblings decided to do this every week or two. Find a slayer, drain most of its blood, patch it up, and pretend like nothing happened. It was hard trying not to devour the human, but the managed. Sure they had to hold each other back every now an then but the really are trying..

Meanwhile the butterfly mansion was trying to solve the mystery of the barely walking slayers with bandaged arms, legs, neck, and or stomach with a dangerously high amount of blood loss.

"Shinobu! We got another one!" Aoi called from the door frame leading to the medical room. "And Yes! Its the same bandaging pattern!" Shinobu sighed, yet kept the smile that was always on her face. This is the 5th one this month, the last person was barely alive.. if this keeps going...

"Oh! Another one?" Kanae (Yes she's alive here, I really miss her) said walking into the same room as Shinobu. "Your back so soon?" Shinobu questioned. "Only for a bit... I do have to get going soon. But since it is still day, I thought I would be able to get some more information on why some of our people are coming back with a terrible amount of blood loss. You care to join me?" Kanae offered, signaling Shinobu to follow her. Without a doubt, Shinobu followed her sister to medical room Aoi was in.

...

"Wait, The mountain that's a couple miles from here?" Shinobu asked, interrupting the story the only stable slayer was telling. "Y-Yeah actually.." The slayer answered.

"That's odd.." Kanae remarked, putting her index finger to her on her chin. "Shinobu, didn't you and tomioka slayed all the demons near the mountain?"

"Yes. Indeed we did.. We even raided the shed near the mountain."

"Act-actually.." The slayer spoke up "I never went to the mountain.. I went straight to the village near the woods."

"Why go straight to the village?"

"I was going to ask the people there if they had experince any suspicious activity. But before I got to the village, I felt something bite me. That's when I passed out. I wasn't sure how long I was out for, but when I woke up.. I was all bandaged up."

"Sorry to interrupt" Aoi interrupted "But, did you ever did get the chance to go to the village?"

"uuh no." The slayer concluded.

" Why'd you asked that Aoi?" Kanae asked. "Oh I wanted to know where the bandages came from. Anyway I should get back to work." Aoi claimed as she quickly walked off.

Aww she want to contribute but got nervous.. Kanae smiled to herself before getting up with a small stretch.

"Well!" Kanae clapped. "We'll send a couple demon slayers to investigate the area... Aoi said the patients claimed that it happened at night correct?"

"Uhh Yeah.."

"Then it's settled we'll send slayers right away to the area.. please get as much rest as you can and stay healthy, we will get to work immediately. Thank you!" And with that Kanae signaled her sister to follow her once more before leaving.

"Are you going to ask any of the Hashira to help?" Shinobu asked. "Well no that's not who I had in mind.."

"Then who?"

...

"We could've got here earlier if SOMEONE DIDN'T MAKE US STOP FOR TEMPURA!" Yelled a very pissed Zenitsu. Inosuke paid no attention to Zenitsu and instead enjoyed the last bite of Tempura he had in his mouth underneath his mask.

"Well it's only 5:48 so we have plenty of time to investigate the area" Tanjiro said trying his best to cause not another fight between Zenitsu and Inosuke for the fifth time today.

Zenitsu sighed. "Well? Do you smell anything?"

"Oh um.." Tanjiro took a second to sniff the air.

The village smelled friendly. Happy kids, happy adults, happy pets, demons, baked goods, fresh food, healthy environment..

"Huh?" Tanjiro said quietly to himself. He took another sniff around, taking him about a minute to finally, fully grab the demon scent.

"It's very faint." He unintentionally reported to Zenitsu. "It's on almost everything..and everyone.."

"Wait.. on the people too?! Dose that mean it's hiding as a human!?" Zenitsu began to panic. "It seems like it... how else would the scent get on the people."

"Start tracking it down gompochiro!!" Inosuke demanded.

"Right I should-"

"Is that a real sword?" A little girl asked. "Oh uh- where did you-"

"Are you a demon slayer?"

"Are grandpa's weird stories true?"

"Why do you have a boar hat?"

"Can I touch the sword?"

"Can I wear the boar hat?"

"Is that a bird on your head?"

A whole bunch of little kids ran up to the three strange looking people and asked them all the questions that came to mind. Not giving them the chance to answer.

Tanjiro smiled at all the kids who surrounded them, they reminded him of his siblings when it was time to eat or going out to play.

"Are Grandpa's weird stories true?"

Tanjiro's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought demon slayers weren't that well known.." Tanjiro questioned Zenitsu.

"INOSUKE STOP TRYING TO FIGHT THE KIDS- huh? Oh uhh I guess it's a folklore around here.. maybe to keep the kids from walking out at night or- INOSUKE NO"

"LITTLE ONES FIGHT MEEEEEEEE!!!"

"No! No Inosuke these are kids, you know? The ones we don't fight!" Tanjiro quickly reassured. "Huh? Why not?? Their just like us but smaller! They can fight!!"

"Oh you got to be kidding me-"

"[Name]! I didn't know you were coming this early- oh hi! Sorry.. I thought you were someone else.." Ashai apologized, he thought [Name] and Ashai came earlier due to the ruckus outside in front. Instead he ran up to a couple of strangers in weird clothes and a shirtless boy in a boar hat.

---------------------------------------------------

So why did this take me a month to post? It's not even that long..

I'll edit this in the morning and answer the other asks in the morning as well.

Remember that requests are still open and have a nice night/day/afternoon/universe

[cotccotc]

SKZ REACT to...

 ✰ you coming out PART 2 !!

part of my eight as fate event !! ( requested by anon ♡ )

genre/s: ot8 reaction headcanon, gn reader, platonic, fluff & humor

wc: ~1.3k

warning/s: descriptions of coming out as non-binary, brief mentions of gender dysphoria, my dumb commentary once again (hehe), these are just my opinions and ideas !!

a/n: i reference the first version of this reaction a few times and i recommend reading it first !! i got some really sweet responses to the original so i hope y’all like this one too :) OH ALSO i should mention that i decided to make it platonic since i found that easier and more natural to write.

✰ CHAN

i feel like even if he already knows a bunch about gender identity, non-binary and genderqueer people, dysphoria, pronouns, etc. he would definitely enjoy you giving him a full rundown on it !! and specifically what your interpretation is and how you identify

BEST LISTENER EVER !!!

do you remember that vlive where felix is talking and chan’s just sitting back and looking at felix with immense amounts of love in his eyes? yeah…

he’d be so. incredibly. proud. of you.

idk why the chan portions of these reactions have both been super sappy but anyways-

he’d be very dedicated to using your preferred pronouns and finding new ways to compliment you !!!

his google search history would most definitely include “genderless adjectives” and “enby dad jokes” and he’d keep a running list on his phone

chan: “what do you say when your non-binary friend is sad?”

you: [dead silence]

chan: “their, their....” [giggles]

KSDFJ

✰ MINHO

my first thought is that he’d be the type to ask for your new pronouns and immediately use them in a sentence.

for instance, say your new pronouns were xe/xem. he’d immediately say, “well, i’m very proud of my y/n, and i love xem very much.”

so then i’d start crying in the background.. blah blah blah omniscient narrator struggles :’)

i can’t see him being anything but casual and accepting !!

if you want to talk about things, he’ll most definitely let you, but if you don’t want to he won’t push.

but regardless, he just wants you to know he supports you in whatever way he can.

would also politely correct people if they misgender you in public !!! he wants you to feel safe !!!!!

i saw him as a wingman in the other reaction but in this context he’d definitely serve as your personal information pamphlet for people who you might not know too well.

random person: “what exactly does that mean?”

you: “it-”

minho: “WELL ACTUALLY-”

✰ CHANGBIN

just like in the first version, he’d get pretty emotional !!

i think he would really sympathize with you even though he can’t fully understand what you had to deal with externally or emotionally.

honestly that would probably make him even MORE emotional.

the fact that he can’t fully relate to those complex feelings would really tug at his heartstrings as he listens to you speak. he really wishes he could understand your struggles more, and maybe even take on the burden for you.

but let’s get less emo, shall we?

ok picture something with me bestie:

first, he casually refers to you using your new pronouns in a group conversation.

next, after the topic changes in the conversation, you look at him while the others continue talking.

this mf WINKS and flashes you the silliest smirk

you let out a little chuckle and you both continue on in the conversation

[end scene]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH anyways-

✰ HYUNJIN

i feel like he might question his own gender identity a little as well sometimes, especially due to what people say online (like calling him “pretty”, the edits some people make, praising him for breaking stereotypes, etc.)

so, he probably understands a bit deeper than some of the other members might.

in that same vein, i think it might make him a little bit emotional to hear your story !!

over the years, i think it’s plain to see that he’s become more comfortable with expressing his more feminine attributes, which has always comforted you as his friend.

he understands the feeling of being uncomfortable with the gender roles one is expected to follow, so he empathizes with you.

in terms of his actual first reaction, i think it would be pretty similar to what i suggested in the other version of this.

(my bias is showing but oH MY GOSH I STILL THINK THIS WOULD BE SO CUTE-)

“woo~” *insert little jazz hands here*

…

[cries] anyways-

you feel really comfortable coming to him with this, and you’re happy when you do !!

✰ JISUNG

maybe it’s because i’ve seen tweets about it, but i feel like this dude knows everything there is to know about modern gender identity topics and neopronouns and stuff

after the initial awkwardness of the conversation (and a big supportive hug ofc) he’d be stoked to talk about it !!

would ask for your pronouns right away !!! he might also do the thing where he uses them in a sentence.

“y/n !!! ze’s so cool !!!!!!!”

i think if he saw someone misgender you (by accident) he wouldn’t correct them for you out of in-the-moment nerves, but he’d be very proud of you if you do it yourself !!

might buy you a snack afterward tbh

but if HE ever misgenders you OHHHHH goodness gracious

HE WOULD FEEL SOOO BAD AH

EVEN IF IT’S LIKE.. THE NEXT DAY

he’d get so very embarrassed and apologetic SDKFJ you’d have to really assure him that it’s not that big of a deal since he’s still adjusting to things, but he’d still feel like he has to make it up to you in some way

would probably buy you snacks again LMAO

✰ FELIX

i think he would be really excited !!

we know felix really loves and is passionate about androgynous/genderless forms of expression, especially in regard to appearance, so he’d probably really enjoy talking about gender and stereotypes with you !!

(if you’re comfy with it, ofc)

honestly, felix would be really encouraging and would help you gain more confidence !!!!!

if you ever feel like trying out a new look, he’d be like “OK BESTIE LET’S GO SHOPPING”

tbh he’d probably try it out with you !! or if you hang out often, he’d probably subconsciously start finding inspiration in your style and adopt it a bit himself

on days where you feel a bit down for whatever reason, especially in regard to dysphoria, his first instinct would be to cheer you up by reminding you how unique and cool you are.

and it’s not just because you’re nonbinary but also because you’re just a super cool person !!!!!!!!!! and i think so too !!!!!!!!!!!! never forget it !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so overall, i feel like felix wouldn’t be very hard to come out to once you get over your initial nerves, and the end result would be super fun :D

✰ SEUNGMIN

i think his initial reaction would be pretty similar to chan’s !!

he also seems like the type to be super, super diligent with adjusting to whatever pronouns you feel comfortable using or words you’re okay with him using to refer to you.

(maybe it’s because we know he was a good student and he’s diligent with practicing his english. training his brain to correct itself would be like studying for him lol)

for example, instead of calling you “pretty” or “handsome,” he might even try simply pointing out a part of your appearance that he thinks looks especially great !! something like your eyes, your hair, your outfit, etc.

your hair looks great today, btw. anyways-

aside from that, i think he would just try to be as courteous as possible without making a big deal out of things.

and if he ever slips up with your pronouns, descriptors, etc, he’d be super quick to apologize and correct himself before keeping the conversation going like normal !!

there’s just generally a lot of mutual respect all around :)

✰ JEONGIN

this is somewhat similar to my other version of this reaction, but i think he’d just be really intrigued and a little shocked

IDK WHY I KEEP THINKING HIS ABILITY TO GAUGE THESE THINGS IS SO BAD DKFJ every time i think about someone coming out to him i just can’t help but picture him being like “reaLLY??? since WHEN”

still, something deep within my soul is telling me that jeongin would truly think you’re the coolest person on the planet.

being as he can’t personally relate to this, jeongin would be pretty psyched to hear about your journey to finding out !! kinda the opposite reaction to changbin lol

honestly he’d be a super good listener !!!!

he’d hear you out for however long you explain things to him, and if you ever get a bit emotional, he might smile at you or reach out to hold your hand :’) or both :’’’’’)

then, when you tell him your preferred pronouns he’s like “oH okay !! coOL !!!” lmao

so, he understands the concept and is super happy for you but he just didn’t really expect it !!

tags: @stayndays​, @hanniiesuckle17​, @leggomylino​, @freckledberries​,@kisskissbanggang​, @mr-jisung-main​, @childofthecosmos​,@kpopscape​, @skzwriternet​, @hyunsins​, @sleepylixie​, @sunshine-skz​, @vera-liscious​, @moonlit-lixie​, @thatrandomoneinthecorner​, @sunshine-skz​ ( join my tag list !! )

©️ cotccotc 2021 ~ all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[g3nosarchive]

i've noticed a bunch of people are still trying to argue w me over the aave links and stuff i had in the beginning of that post, and in general still confused when i, or others say, don't use aave if you aren't black.

before i start here are some links for y'all who ignore these type of posts

a tumblr post i found that does a great job of explaining

another list of aave

powerpoint on understanding what aave is

regarding that post i linked of a twitter thread with black users calling some aave words slurs - i know it's sarcasm/ satire. no those words are not slurs (w the way tiktok and twitter ran them through the mud they might as well be) but they are aave words. if the post isn't serious enough for you, there's a good 3 links w a lot of information that could help you instead right above it. stop dming me / sending me asks on it and check the original post where i even added an explanation. the rest is going under a cut

1. if you're a foreigner (to america) i'm not expecting you to know not to use aave because you weren't born over here and you might think it's just slang or an informal way of speaking. it is not. aave is more than a dialect - it's actually considered a language and has been around for centuries. thinking of it as merely informal language is erasing the history behind it and adding to the stereotype that black people who speak differently are dumb and uneducated (and that black people who speak "white" or formally are not black enough).

grammatically, aave is correct (there's many studies and articles on this), and like any other language it has it's own rules to follow. regardless of whether you can use aave correctly or not though, now that you do know you have to make an effort to reduce/ stop your use of it. ask yourself, why do you use aave? in what situations do you use aave? what message are you trying to give by using aave? how are you trying to portray yourself by using these words?

if you are using aave to come off as aggressive, cool, hyper-masculine, to apply pressure, when you are angry or have lost control of your emotion, or when you want to scare someone, that in itself is a micro-aggression and prejudice (a step away from racism tbh).

what you are saying is that you have some deep-seated stereotype/prejudicial thought in you - black people only come off as that aggressive, threatening type of people. your anger can only be expressed as 'angry enough' when you say it like a black person does. when you speak, act, or present yourself in a way that black people do, you are taken either as a serious threat, a source of fear, or somebody who seems so cool and different and special.

do you see the problem with that train of thought? thoughts like this contribute to police brutality, medical ignorance towards the issues of black people/ doctors and doctors-to-be thinking black people can't feel pain, the belief that black women are either apathetic or angry with no in-between, the demonization of black culture, the hyper-masculinity forced onto both black men and women (especially including trans women) and a lot more.

2. the difference between using a southern-american way of speaking vs aave. many make the mistake of thinking being from the south means you are automatically using aave. that is wrong; while it seems hard to differentiate between the two, they are not the same thing and have a noticeable difference. the two do share some words between each other, like 'y'all' or 'ain't' but what you have to remember is not all aave is part of 'speaking south'.

southern accents typically draw out their words so if you're from the south, just speak like you normally do and avoid picking up terms you hear solely from black friends/ online (especially twitter or tiktok). I'm not the best on explaining this particular issue so here's this tumblr post.

in addition to this, before you start asking your black friends or your random token smart black blog, go to google. so many things could be fixed with a simple search on the internet. if you can say that you went on google, you checked articles, you checked twitter threads and hell even tumblr posts and still don't understand, that's the only time you should be asking questions (asking a minority group to educate u on issues specific to them is a micro-aggression and you shouldn't be asking anyone who has made it clear they don't like being your personal wikipedia; black people are not your reusable resource.)

3. you were born in the hood or around black people... and? you still need to make an effort to reduce your use of aave. because people think it's okay for them to talk like black people, you get this ridiculous number of non-black poc thinking they have some pass to start saying our slurs. you have people thinking aave wasn't even created by black people, that hispanic groups and nb drag queens and nb gay men created these words (when in reality, non-black gay men are notorious for putting on a blaccent or acting like black women to solidify their break from socially acceptive masculinity but otherwise to keep a sassy, harsh way of speaking. black* LGBT used their rightful terms and had it stolen, butchered, and the history behind it nearly rewritten by non-blacks. while hispanic ethnic groups and black people have been forced into the same run-down communities as each other, we do not have the same struggle, and yet some think they can be us and not actually be us, own what is ours and not even know where it came from and etc, leading to cultural appropriation from hairstyles to our words).

4. when somebody calls you out for using aave as a non-black person please don't throw in some excuse in there. just apologize, thank them for letting you know and subsequently educate yourself on any other words you might be using that's considered aave. saying it's hard to correct is unnecessary; nobody needs to know all that. just show that you understand and change your actions.

if you are non black and reading this thinking 'i don't do any of that' read it over. there is a high chance you do but you wanna pick and choose which post applies to you or not because nobody's called you out yet, or you're different.

ok to reblog, nonblack people stay silent

[gay-otlc]

Keepers of the Chaos (Chapter 2)

Summary: Tam, Linh, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh's podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.

Content warnings: Cursing, food, L*ura

Word count: 2005

Notes: Check out the beautiful theme song here!

(Read on AO3)

Sophie rolls her eyes as she opens the link her girlfriend sent her and puts in her earbuds. Biana has been incessantly pestering her to watch Keepers of the Chaos for so long that Sophie half wants to watch it just to shut her up, but she's always tired, or busy, and she doesn't really like watching new things. Still, Biana asked her very nicely to listen to this one podcast, and she looked very pretty when she asked, so Sophie's dumb omni ass couldn't refuse.

"Welcome to the Twins of the Chaos podcast," it begins after loading for an obnoxiously long time. The girl speaking has a pretty voice, Sophie has to admit- sweet and melodic and vaguely amused.

Maybe listening to this podcast won't be so bad if she can listen to that girl's voice the whole time.

But another person speaks, adding "Where some chaotic twins discuss our favorite show, Keepers of the Chaos," and his voice is not as pretty. She continues listening anyway, since Biana may or may not murder her if she stops.

The two voices- whose names are Linh and Tam, apparently- start talking about Keepers of the Chaos some more, giving Sophie a summary she's heard tons of times from Biana and Fitz- though the twins explain it slightly more coherently and with less... whatever the verbal equivalent of keyboard smashing is. Biana usually starts rambling about her favorite characters, like Lynn- not "Lynn the fandom mom," but the other Lynn- and Avery, or sometimes Nora and Darwin. Sophie doesn't understand any of those names and loses track of the conversation as soon as it involves too many unfamiliar names.

But Tam and Linh are making more sense, at least for the most part, until they start mentioning specific couples. The conversation gets again comprehensive soon enough, though, and Sophie does smile at the name "The Dark Duck."

By the end, when Tam says "half of them wearing sleeping masks with teal eyes painted on and the other half watching the chaos with mild amusement," Sophie is curious enough to be mildly intrigued. She listens to their outro music, and before she can regret it, types out a text message to Biana.

Sophie: fine

Sophie: ill watch it

Biana responds instantly with an array of heart emojis. Sophie blushes.

Biana: can i come over and watch with u?

Sophie: ok!

Sophie: moms making mallowmelt

Sophie: but u cant have any

Biana: >:(

Biana: hope u like being single then

Sophie: fine u can have some mallowmelt

Biana: yayyyy!

Biana: ily

Sophie: ilyt

Sophie: now lets watch ur stupid show

Biana: on my way!!!

Sophie smiles, shaking her head. She's a little annoyed, but fine, it sounds interesting enough from the podcast. And what else would she be doing? Studying? Having US history as an alternative would make even the most horrible of shows seem good. She stuffs her textbooks into her backpack and shoves some things out of the way so her room looks a bit neater before rushing downstairs. The mallowmelt smells good enough to make her mouth water.

"Mmm..." she sighs, barely taking time to let it cool off before taking a large bite. "That's so good. Thanks, Mom."

Edaline  smiles. "You're welcome. Just save some for your father and I."

"Fine, fine. I have to share with Biana, anyway." Sophie huffs and takes another bite. "She's coming over, is that alright? We're going to watch a show together."

"Sure, just make sure to get your homework done."

Sophie rolls her eyes. "Fine."

"And keep the door open!" Grady calls. Edaline laughs as Sophie's face flames.

"I'm going back to my room," she grumbles, taking a plate of mallowmelt with her and walking up the stairs. She manages not to trip over her own feet and drop the mallowmelt, thankfully, as she grabs her laptop and opens Netflix. Sighing, she searches for Keepers of the Chaos and clicks on the show that comes up before waiting for Biana to arrive.

The doorbell rings soon, and Sophie carefully sets down her laptop and her plate on her bed before rushing down the stairs. Panting slightly, she opens the door for her girlfriend. Biana's wearing a t-shirt with the Amsterdam flag on it. Sophie has no idea why. Maybe Biana likes the country? Her girlfriend is pretty weird. "Come on in," she says, realizing she's been staring. In her defense, Biana is pretty and Sophie is very omni.

"Ready to go watch Keepers of the Chaos?" Biana asks. She bounces on her toes slightly.

"Alright," says Sophie. "I set it up on my laptop in my room."

"Awesome! You'll love it."

Sophie follows Biana up the stairs and into her room. They sit on the bed together, Sophie leaning against the wall and Biana leaning against Sophie, and Biana presses play. Somber kazoos begin playing in the background as the theme song starts.

We're on the edge of chaos

No one is straight

We're making fanart

Because L*ura we hate

And we're gonna have teal eyes in the end!

We must be weird, and we must be gay

(We must be gay!)

We will find every bit of sanity that we have

And give it all to Lynn

Ohhhh

We must be gay!

Biana dances a little along with the song, and Sophie can't help but smile. A curvy, round-faced person with short dark hair and colorful earrings plays a few notes on the piano, and then a KEEPERS OF THE CHAOS logo flashes across the screen. Then, a group of students sit in a classroom.

"Shai! Tater! Lynn! You three finally got together?" says the same person who just played piano, gesturing to a redhaed wearing a Sappho lesbian flag cape. She's holding the fingerless-gloved hand of a lanky person with brightly colored hair, and they're holding hands with a tall girl who has chin length brown hair. The rest of the class applauds the fiancees before returning to their own conversations.

"Yep! Thanks, Ink," says Tater.

Ink smiles at them and turns to a person with light brown skin and golden hoop earrings partially covered by long dark hair. "Hi, Kiri, how was your break?"

"Good! Here's to a good 2021?" Kiri turns to the person next to them. "How about you, Ref?"

Ref has short brown hair and red glasses. "Yeah, my break was dOPE," she says, leaving everyone to wonder how he did that with their voice. "oH, and happy belated Hanukkah to Shai!"

"Thanks, you too. And guess what! I didn't set my hair on fire this year!"

A short guy with strawberry blonde hair looks concerned. "Um. Congratulations?"

"Thanks, Sam!"

Sophie looks away from the screen and at Biana. "There are a lot of characters..." she mutters.

"Yeah, but you get to know them well enough eventually," says Biana. "Now shh, let's keep watching!"

A lot of other characters are introduced in various conversations, and Sophie's brain has a hard time keeping track of them all. She does remember Tara, a curvy, bored-looking girl with long sideswept bangs, and Blue, a bisexual who may or may not be an arsonist. She doesn't know either of their personalities very well yet, but she likes them so far. Lucat, a pale, blue haired asexual, who later joins the Hanukkah conversation, also seems cool.

Once quite a bit of introductions are done- Sophie lost count at around twenty something- are over, an announcement comes over the school's loudspeakers.

"Welcome back, Tumblr High School!" announces a voice. "I hope you all had a good break. Now, the Tumblr staff have an important announcement for you all. High schools in this county, like ours, Pinterest High School, and Instagram High School, will be holding a competition. All members of the winning team will receive a scholarship to AO3 college. If you are interested, meet in room 69 after school. Now, onto other announcements..."

Somber kazoos play again as the principal's droning voice fades into the background. A montage of the previously introduced characters wishing they could go to AO3 college moves across the screen. After a few minutes of them zooming through school and talking about how fucking boring it is, all of them gather in the room (some of them with more jokes than others) to discuss the competition.

A blonde woman welcomes them into the room. They wait a while to make sure no one else will arrive, but once everyone is there, the woman clears her throat. "Hello, everyone! I'm glad you're interested in joining the competition. My name is Shannon Messenger, and I'm in charge of admissions at AO3 College. My coworker L*ura and I designed this competition."

Sophie gasps and looks at Biana. "L*ura? But isn't that the person they hate? They said that in the intro!" Biana smiles at her, and she blushes as she realizes that she's kind of... maybe... invested in the show now. She decides she'll endure the "I told you so"s later and looks back at the show, trying to telepathically tell the characters not to trust this L*ura person... and perhaps not Shannon either. It's too early to tell whether Shannon will be an antagonist or not.

"All of you will be working as a team to write a story together. The main premise is that a twelve year old girl named Sophia is a telepath, but she can't tell anyone her secret. Then, she meets a teal-eyed boy named Finn, and he tells her that she's an elf. She travels back to the elf world with him, where she struggles a bit at the elf school Firefox, makes friends with some other elves, learns that she is an illegal creation of a rebel group called the Dark Duck, and another rebel group- the Rarelynoticed- tries to kidnap and kill Sophia and her friend Deck. There are other details to be included into the story, which will be given out to the participants as a packet. The object of this competition is not to determine your ability at coming up with story ideas, but your ability to work in groups and execute well developed ideas. Does anyone have any questions?"

Someone raises their hand- a short, tanned girl. "Lynn?" prompts the principal.

"Did you say the rebel group was named the Dark Duck?"

"And the Rarelynoticed?" adds another person, with rectangular glasses and a red bracelet.

"Raise your hand before speaking, Auran," scolds the principal. "But yes, those are the names."

"Alright then," Auran mutters.

"Unless anyone else has questions, we'll be sending out sign up forms for everyone interested, and then we will distribute the information packets about your story. You can talk to each other and start planning."

No one else has questions, so once they've all filled out the sign up form, they gather in small groups and flip through the packets, making sarcastic comments or mocking names ("'Rarelynoticed' though-" a stylish hijabi named Raiin sighs as they come across a page of information about the group) as they try to form some semblance of a plan. Once they all agree that they've made a lot of progress, they make plans to meet up again soon and walk back home.

Unbeknownst  to them, a pair of ominous teal eyes watch from above.

Somber kazoos play once again, and the credits roll.

"So, what'd you think?" Biana asks as Sophie closes her laptop.

Rather inaudibly, Sophie mumbles "It was good."

"What was that?"

"It was good! I liked it!"

Biana grins. "I told you so." She leans over and kisses Sophie on the cheek. "Thanks for watching it. I have to go do some homework, awesome seeing you!" As she walks out, Sophie hears her singing under her breath. "We must be gay..."

[dreamypeaches]

don’t wake up pt. 1 | rafe cameron x reader

summary: you and rafe cross paths at a boneyard kegger and find a space to escape in each other

warnings: making out, cursing, alcohol use

word count: 2.2k

a/n: so i posted this last night, then realized my account is so new that it wouldn’t show up in the search or tags. but i just got a bunch of followers, so hopefully y’all enjoy this! also, all characters in my fics are 18+, unless i specifically say otherwise. also also, fuck canon rafe, we don’t know him.

series masterlist

 The Boneyard was packed with Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons. It was the middle of the summer, the height of the party season in the Outer Banks, and there was no party like a kegger at the Boneyard. You and the Pogues were at the center of it all, music pounding in your chest louder than your heartbeat as you danced with Kie and Sarah. The liquid in your red solo cup spilled as you spun around, accidentally bumping into JJ, who was approaching the dance floor with a drunk grin on his face.

“Having fun?” He questioned as he gripped your waist to keep you from falling.

“Always am!” You slurred, gripping his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor with you and the girls.

At the beginning of the night, your dancing would have been sexy, grinding with Kie and Sarah, shaking your hips as you moved seductively. Now, you were a point of drunkenness where your legs no longer coordinated with your mind. You jumped and yelled along with the music, a goofy grin on your face. You wrapped your arms around JJ’s shoulders as you both screamed the chorus of the song, rocking back and forth like the waves not far from the dance floor. As the song faded out, JJ led you off the dance floor. You downed the last of your drink and giggled as you and JJ tripped over nothing in the sand. JJ collapsed on a log next to Pope and John B., both boys much more sober than the rest of their friends.

“You too better not puke in my living room,” John B commented.

“How dare you, I’m not even that drunk. In fact, I could go for another right now,” JJ said, standing from the log, swaying, and immediately falling back down on his ass. He stood up again, successfully, and grinned at you.

“Y/N, care to join me?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go for a walk. I want to feel the waves on my feet!” You giggled as you turned away from your friends and marched towards the ocean. The music slowly faded the farther you got, stumbling to an empty area several yards away from the party. As you stepped towards the water, letting the tide roll over your feet, you noticed a figure a few feet away sitting on the beach. He was nothing but a silhouette in the night, but you approached him anyway, your drunken state leading you to want to be a little too friendly than you normally would be. You stumbled over to the stranger, but realized as you got closer that it wasn’t a stranger at all. Rafe Cameron sat on the sand with his need pulled to his chest, hands resting on his knees. His button up shirt was halfway open, blowing slightly in the breeze as he stared at the ocean.

Being a Pogue, your normally would have avoided Kooks like the plague, especially this Kook. But for some reason, possibly your drunkenness or some invisible string of fate connecting you to him, you continued walking toward him until you were standing right above him. You unceremoniously collapsed into the sand beside him, causing him to glance at you strangely.

“What are you doing here, Pogue?” He said, though he lacked the usual venom behind the words. You turned your head towards him slightly, giving him a small smile before turning back to the ocean.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it? Especially at night, you can see the moon reflecting off the water. It looks like a portal to another world that just goes on forever. Sometimes I wish I could just jump in and disappear. End up in some other universe where everything is as beautiful as the ocean.”

Rafe stared at you as you spoke. Despite you being a Pogue, he’d always found you beautiful, though if his friends asked he would use a different word like hot or fuckable. But right now, as the moon shone down on your hair and the light from the kegger illuminated your outline, he couldn’t think of any other word but beautiful. As you spoke, your words floated from your mouth and into his chest, wrapping around his heart in a comforting embrace. He had gotten into an argument with his dad before the party and he felt like shit. He’d tired to bail, but Kelce and Topper dragged him from his home on Figure 8 and down to The Cut, promising liquor and drugs would cure his bad mood. They had no idea the real reason behind his anger and sadness.

As soon as he could, he escaped from the loud and chaotic kegger to this quiet spot on the beach, needing a moment on his own to just be. Then you come along and, had you ben anyone else, he would have yelled at you to go the fuck away. But no, it was you, the Pogue who always smiled at him when they made eye contact, the one who apologized for her friends when they started shit, but wasn’t afraid to chew him out when he was the shit-starter. He’d always tried to ignore his little crush on you, knowing it would never happen. But now you were here and speaking to him like no one else had.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He replied, not taking his eyes off you. You turned and made eye contact with him, raising an eye brow at him.

“So, what’s the Kook King doing sitting over here all alone?” You asked. Rafe gave you a sad smile, breaking eye contact to look at his hands, tapping his fingers on his knees.

“I could ask the same thing of the Pogue Princess,” He said. You laughed and Rafe’s heart skipped a beat. He’d never heard your laugh before but now it was the only thing he ever wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

“I’m not the Pogue Princess,” You chuckled, shaking your head, “I just wanted some air, and to feel the waves under my feet. Helps me stay grounded.”

Rafe nodded and looked back at the ocean. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you for a short moment. You were the one to break it.

“So? I answered your question, now you need to answer mine. And I asked first so if you don’t answer that’s just plain rude.”

Rafe chuckled and glanced at you. He ran his hand through his hair, messing up the slicked back style. You watched as his hair fell in his eyes and licked your lips. Rafe was a dick, yes, but you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. All those times he and JJ were at each other’s throats, your eyes would wander to the tall boy, taking in every detail of him. You would never admit it the other Pogues, but he intrigued you. He was never as rude to you as he was to the other Pogues. Once he’d even smiled at you and said “thank you” when you’d handed him a cup of beer at a kegger. Kiara, who had been right next to you, was convinced he had been possessed.

You had never been a fan of the whole Kook versus Pogue rivalry, you thought it was cliche and dumb. But you continued to abide by the rules of the island, despite the constant urge to go up to Rafe and befriend him. After all, you had made friends with Sarah, why not the other Cameron sibling?

“Didn’t really want to come to this kegger in the first place. Since I’m here, might as well enjoy some shitty beer and a great view while trying to ignore all my problems.”

“I get that. I ignore my problems all the time. Whenever I get ice out of the freezer and a couple cubes fall to the ground, I always just kick them under the fridge.”

Rafe laughed, a genuine, joyful laugh that made your heart flutter.

“I’ve done the exact same thing many, many times,” He said.

“I’m assuming your problems are a little bigger than ice cubes.”

The smile slowly faded from his face and he nodded. “Yeah, just a little bit,”

You looked at him as a pained expression crossed his face. You already missed his laugh, and you were determined to hear it again.

“Well, can I help you ignore your problems? Even if it’s just for a little while?” You said.

Rafe looked up at you, eyes sad but a smile on his lips. “I would love that.”

You and Rafe talked about nothing as the party continued to rage on behind you. You told him all the shitty jokes you knew while he told you about embarrassing stories about his sister and his friends. You got into a short argument about what fast food place had the best fries, never coming to an agreement. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, hours maybe, but you didn’t want it to end. You had moved closer to Rafe and he to you until your thighs and shoulders were touching. The conversation had died down for a moment as you made eye contact with each other. His tongue flicked out and licked his lips, drawing your eyes to them.

“Do you know what else will help you ignore your problems?” You asked. Both of you slowly moved closer and closer towards each other, eyes flicking from eyes to lips and back again.

“What?” Rafe asked. You answered him by leaning forward and connecting your lips to his. Your hands gripped the sand for balance has he reach up to place a hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand rested on your hip, gripping it as if his life depended on it. You raised your hands to run your fingers through his hair, almost falling on top of him. The Hand on your hip swiftly wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You straddled him, fingers threading through his light hair. He tasted like beer and mint and heaven. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and you opened your mouth, allowing him to explore to his heart content. His hands moved underneath your shirt, running up and down your sides. One of his thumbs brushed up against the bottom of your breast, feeling you through the thin fabric of your bra. You let out a moan into his mouth that motivated him to move further. His grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against him. Your lips were soft and sweet, every negative thought disappearing from his mind, being replaced by you, you, you. Rafe didn’t want to forget a single part of this moment. He memorized the curve of your hip, the softness of your lips. The way you smelled and the way you moaned and breathed and tasted. He was euphoric, questioning whether or not this was a dream.

His hand had just ventured underneath your bra, lips creating dark spots are your neck when someone yelled from the direction of the kegger.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes snapped open as you looked towards the edge of the kegger. In the distance, you could see the silhouette of the Pogues against the fire light. They were waving their arms and shouting your name. Rafe, however, paid no mind, sucking on the sensitive spot below your ear that made you moan.

“Rafe,” you moaned his name. You pulled his hair, forcing him away from your neck to look in your eyes. “I have to go.”

You kissed him again as you slowly removed yourself from his lap. His hand gripped your arm as you stood, your lips still attached. You giggled as your rested your forehead on his, pecking the tip of his nose. You finally disconnected from him, but your eyes never left his as you walked backwards toward the other Pogues.

“I’ll see you around, Cameron,” You said before turning on your heel, jogging towards your friends. Rafe stood their frozen, hair a mess and lips swollen as he stared at your retreating figure. A he couldn’t help but smile as he stood up, brushing the sand from his body. As he walked toward where Topper and Kelce were standing, he prayed for another moment where he got to taste your lips.

You reached the Pogues, a smile still on your face as you adjusted your messy hair.

“Ready to go?” John B asked. You nodded walked next to Kiara and Sarah towards the Twinkie. Both girls examined your giggly state and the hickies that littered your collarbone and neck.

“Who was that?” Sarah asked, smirking at you. Your words caught in your throat for a moment, unsure if you should tell the truth or not. You quickly glanced over the fire and met Rafe’s gaze. He winked at you and blush crawled up your cheeks. You quickly looked back at Sarah and smiled.

“Just some Touron,” You answered. Sarah and Kie laughed at your blushing face, asking you more questions about the Touron you had just made out with on the beach. You told them you knew nothing about them, dodging their questions and suggestive looks. Tonight had been a dream, you weren’t ready to wake up yet. As you approached the parked van, you took one last glance at Rafe and smiled. You hoped you would never wake up.

[harryhighkey]

reassurance

hi! it’s been a really long time since i posted a one shot! i don’t really have a good excuse besides that life has just been really busy. but i genuinely do miss writing these. here’s just a little something to get me back into it 

______________________

It was late, and normally by this time you would be in bed with Harry and finding yourselves somewhere in between either a deep coversation, making love, laughing at silly things or even seeing a viral parkour video and asking him if he thought you could do it to which he would say,

“Baby, you can’t even walk up the hallway without tripping over.”

But currently, you were kind of avoiding going up to your bedroom. Harry had been off for the later part of the night. You couldn’t figure out why either and it was putting you in a weird mood, also. Usually you were so tuned in with him that you would notice even the slightest shift in his demeanour, as he would with you too.

However, whatever mindset he was in tonight really seemed to appear out of no where. You couldn’t pick where it came from at all. There was no argument, no significance with what day it was, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Hell, you hadn’t even been secretly binging TV shows you were meant to watch together behind his back just because you couldn’t wait after he got upset about it last time. You couldn’t even really tell if Harry’s mood was more mad, sad or anything else in between and you were dwelling over it. You couldn’t find any kind of clue and your brain was caught in a whirl of over thinking.

You sighed as your phone died, you’d been killing time by scrolling through Tiktok. It was the only thing that was keeping your brain distracted. This time, you had to finally make your way to your room where you knew Harry was. You couldn’t help but become a little anxious with each step. You were a big believer in being honest with feelings - and thought everyone else should be too - so when you couldn’t pick what was going on because something wasn’t being said, you felt so out of your element. 

You couldn’t help but to think you shouldn’t have to be feeling like this, it had been such a good afternoon and night. Your best friend had come over spontaneously, but that was nothing new. She did that about once a week, and her and Harry got on well. At first the three of you were hanging out, you’d had an early dinner and then Harry left you two, to allow you to have friend time. He was good like that, he knew how important friendship was to you. But that was never something that bothered him before.

You’d noticed his mood change when you went to ask him if he wanted a tea when you were making some for you and (Y/F/N). And the way he answered you was so strange, immediately you noticed and asked if he was okay and once again, his reply was not like his usual self. If you didn’t have a friend over you probably would have questioned him further, but you figured it could wait until it was just the two of you.

Which happened to be right now. And fuck, you wished it had been sorted out earlier so you weren’t overthinking how this was going to go.

You cracked open the bedroom door and stuck your head in, as if you were a guest in someone else's home and trying to find the right room. However, this was more your apartment, Harry had been living here ever since he got back from tour a couple of months ago, though.

He looked up and saw you peering in, “What are you doing?” He initiated the conversation, but it wasn’t said with any humour, you picked up on that. Things were still not completely okay.

You took the opportunity to come into the room fully, taking the few steps it took to reach your bed in your not so big bedroom. “Phone died.” You answered him while sitting on the side of the bed and reaching for your charger.

“That’s the only reason you came up?”

Shit, things were touchy with him then.

“What? No.” You answered him instantly, twisting to face him and bending one of your legs up on the bed. “I just got caught in a Tiktok scroll after (Y/F/N) left.”

“Told ya’ not to go on that before bed.” His tone was lighter and you smiled, unconsciously shifting more onto the bed and closer to him. He smelt so good, and his hair was damp. He’d showered already. “Keeps you up for hours. Good thing it died.”

“It’s not my fault I find the dumbest shit funny.”

“That definitely is your fault, that’s your sense of humour!” Harry laughed then, too.

“Oh my god, like yours is any better.” Harry was definitely no where near into social media as you were, but he would always come see what had you laughing at your screen. And sometimes he’d find himself laughing too, but it mostly made him smile to see you laughing. “I didn’t even get to do a twitter scroll yet.”

He frowned at that and looked away. The weird mood was back as quick as that brief moment of normal had appeared. Why? You hadn’t said anything to upset him, he knew you also enjoyed scrolling through twitter to see silly things to laugh at there, too.

“Hey,” He looked back at you as you got his attention. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He was being stubborn and you really had to fight against an eye roll. You hated when he was like this, it wasn’t all the time but enough to frustrate you when he wouldn’t be forthright with his feelings.

“Harry.”

“(Y/N).”

“Please tell me what’s going on. We had such a good night, I’m really not understanding this right now.” You were always very forthright with your feelings, sometimes that contrast between you two worked wonders and other times, it was challenging. Tonight seemed to be the latter.

He let out a deep breath and had a very deep in thought look on his face as he stared at his own feet stretched out to the end of the bed. God, even there propped up against the headboard he looked perfect. If your phone wasn’t dead, you would have picked it up and taken a photo. 

“Why are you smiling?” He caught you staring with that fond look upon your face.

“You just look really good right now.”

“You sure about that?”

What? 

“What?” The word appeared loud in your head and also exited your lips in surprise. That was not the typical reaction you received from Harry after complimenting him. You couldn’t help but to begin to think that whatever he was feeling off about was something not so major, in fact, something petty or he wouldn’t be acting so immaturely otherwise. “Tell me what’s going on, you’re being silly right now.”

Stubbornly he looked away.

“Harry, c’mon. You know this is gonna’ get to me if you don’t tell me.”

“Something you said got to me.”

“What did I say?” Your reply was a little defensive, you didn’t want it to be but you couldn’t help it. You knew something was off with him, but you didn’t expect it to be specifically something you done or said to him, because you truly thought tonight had been such a good and chilled out night.

“When you were talking about Zac Efron.” He finally admitted what was stirring in him and the conversation with your friend from earlier played in your mind.

-

“Dude, what?!” You displayed genuine surprise at what your friend had just told you. “There’s no fucking way, you’re lying.” After reminiscing over a funny memory that had happened when you and your friends had gone to see High School Musical Three at the cinemas, you’d been informed by your friend that Zac Efron was in a relationship with a girl he’d met at a cafe while she was waitressing.

“I’m not! Check twitter, it’s all over it.” She prompted you.

You picked up your phone then. “Oh my fucking god.” You exclaimed after typing Zac Efron into your twitter search bar. “This is like... real fanfiction shit.”

“I know!”

“She is living the literal dream, imagine dating the actual Troy Bolton. Her life couldn’t get better.”

“Personally, I’m more into a 17 again Zac Efron.”

“Or how truly beautiful he looked in Charlie St. Cloud. What a man.”

-

It was such a silly conversation with your friend, one that in all honestly, really had no significance. You, like many other people, were a big fan of the High School Musical movies and - once again - like many other people had a celebrity crush on Zac Efron at the time.

“Harry, you can’t be serious right now.” You couldn’t help but to let out a laugh, all of this fretting you had been doing over something so minor.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry, but you have to know this is really dumb.”

“Didn’t you hear how you talked about him? Saying how his girlfriend has got the best life and shit like that.”

“Oh my god, you do not need to be this jealous right now.”

“It wasn’t very nice to hear, (Y/N).” You didn’t even realise Harry had heard you two talk about this, he must have gone to the bathroom or something and overheard as he walked past you two on the couch. But after his latest response you started to realise that all he heard was you two talking about Zac Efron, his current reaction probably meant he had missed when you talked about your own life with Harry.

“Did you stay around to listen to what I said after that?”

“No, I had enough.”

“Oh, baby, you really missed out on the good part.”

“What did you say?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you.” You know you shouldn’t be teasing him right now, but you really couldn’t help but to make fun of him. It wasn’t often that Harry got caught up in something more on the pettier side and you weren’t one to shy away from teasing in the first place.

“Don’t.” Along with his one worded reply, he scooted his body down to lay flat on the bed before rolling onto his side and groaning into the pillow. He knew this was one of the more trivial things he had gotten annoyed at you with, but he couldn’t help but to allow his jealousy to seek through. Not when it came to his dream girl.

Mirroring his movements, you too manoeuvred to be laying down on your side and once you were comfortable, you brought a hand up to run it through his hair. “Well, if you had stuck around to hear the rest of that conversation you would’ve heard me say,” He turned his head to face you then, genuine curiosity painted on his features and it truly took your breath away how beautiful he was this close up. “that I was living in the best fanfiction of all.” He started to smile then, he could notice the blush beginning to appear in your cheeks. You typically weren’t one for a sappy moment, so when you were this way he loved every second of it.

“Tell me more.”

“Well, I said to (Y/F/N), it’s kind of weird because Zac Efron is this celebrity crush, you know? Like a, never gonna happen but woah, that man-”

“I meant tell me more about me, not him.” He cut you off and there was a little anger in his voice, but it was at least mixed with a little humour this time.

“I’m getting there.” You laughed at him again. “Anyway, but, so were you once upon a time for me.”

“Hm?”

“Harry, you know this already, don’t make me say it.” Now you rolled over, except onto your back to look at the ceiling.

“If you want to make it up to me, I gotta hear it.” He wasn’t being serious, you knew he had already moved past the jealousy from before, but it was rare to catch you in a more romantic spiel and he wanted to milk it some more.

You let out a sigh before continuing. “Well, you know I was a One Direction fan.”

“I’ll never forget the night you told me.” You laughed at that reply from him and so did he, it came out when you were very drunk and made for lots of embarrassing moments the next day. 

“Anyway, what I was saying to (Y/F/N) was kind of along the lines of, if I could tell a younger version of myself walking out of her first One Direction concert that she’d be where I am right now, she’d... I don’t know, die or cry or something.” You turned your head to look over at him then and he was smiling in that way that made his dimple so prominent and the beat of your heart harder. “Like, yes, I have celebrity crushes from when I was younger, but, I’m so happy with you, Harry.” You rolled back onto your side, you wanted him to know you meant this. “This life with you is better than any fanfiction or daydream I could think ever up. You don’t need to be jealous, I have everything I want with you.” You didn’t intend for the mood to shift but tears of complete happiness had welled in your eyes.

Harry noticed and he brought his arm around you to pull you closer in towards him until your bodies were against one another. “I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you, too.”