#this is not only allowed but great (if it's your jam). embrace it and be free

[astriiformes]

Understand that this is coming from someone who is decidedly romance-averse and has been active in the aro & ace headcanon and fanwork sphere longer than many people have even been on tumblr, so I get it, the frustration with shipping culture is real, I have the text posts I've been harassed over to prove it.

But also. If you are so focused on the lens other fans will choose to apply to certain scenes that it totally poisons your ability to enjoy any close, affectionate interactions between two characters you otherwise like, you are.... also kind of falling prey to "This is your brain on amatonormativity" and I promise you there are other options.

Embrace ambiguity. Have fun with ace and aro headcanons on various parts of the spectrum or imagine characters having messy and complicated relationships with aspec identity. Interpret canon queerplatonically. Ignore the voices of people who insist the "only" way to make sense of an interaction is if two characters are involved romantically and instead do a cool high-five with the ones who like the ship but also like letting you do your thing and can respect someone else who loves the same relationship they do, just in a different flavor. Not only is it less exhausting, but it's decidedly more radical and relationship anarchist than saying "These two characters held hands, so I guess they're basically dating.... sigh"

#also like.... as a weary romance-averse aro in a queerplatonic relationship who already gets a lot of assumptions from allo folks #feels. kind of weird to see these takes from other aspec people and go 'ah ok so if you saw me and my qpp out walking around together' #'you would ALSO assume we were dating' #sometimes you want absolutely nothing to do with the idea of romance but like holding hands. or cuddling. or little forehead kisses #this is not only allowed but great (if it's your jam). embrace it and be free #aroblogging #aceblogging

[huenation]

who you are / csb

word count: 3,180

genre: soft angst, fluff, slice-of-life

warnings: not much happens in this and it’s almost a vent piece so you probably wont love this — mentions of nervousness, family issues, mc has a big family

synopsis: when soobin finally meets your family, he learns something about you (and he can’t help but love you more)

soundtrack: lovelovelove by baek yerin and can’t you see (acoustic) by matthew and the atlas

soobin is never home on weekdays in the mornings because of work, happily assisting the newbies at his barista job, since he’s been working there for three years now. he didn’t remember what nine am’s in his home looked like until now. he paces his hallway, awaiting your text message to let him know you’re outside to pick him up. it’s the big day after all, the one where he meets your family.

it’s been roughly eleven months since you both started dating and you’d just been introduced to soobin’s family a week earlier from now at a brunch. his sister and brother had finally decided to both visit his family home at the same time. despite the great harrowing pill of trepidation taken at meeting your boyfriend’s family, they had been so graciously welcoming and accepting of you. their questions were mere softballs, compliments and genuine interest in you that didn’t at all feel too much. you and soobin are familiar with the weight of stares, certain tones, and body language.

you had understood that floods of words could be conveyed through touch. being held by his family, a gripping hug, tearful thank you’s told you everything. it just meant a lot of love. soobin’s parents had embraced you so tightly that night, his mom more than kind and thankful when she held your hands and told you how special her son was to her, how dear you were to him and for that, she thought of you that much as well.

it all made sense that night on the drive home — it made you comfortable, knowing and seeing how soobin was raised well and so loved. he’s his own guy, but he is definitely a fragment of all those around him: infinitely precious.

so, when time allowed for him to meet your own family, despite the fear of jumping off your comfortable cloud into oblivion, you and he felt it was time. sure, he was beyond nervous when you both agreed to today as he’s currently anxious out of his mind, but you are, too. eye twitches, shivers, and that swirling pit in your stomach are all little footprints of this feeling.

really, as long as you have each other, just the knowing of it, that’s what matters.

he feels his phone vibrate and your contact name and picture pop up from a message that lets him know you’re outside. a small grin sprouts between his dimples at the sight of that photo. in it, you’re wearing his hoodie with the hood over your head so only your mouth is showing, a big smile worn. of course he had to set his contact photo as that. your contact name has your name with a single white heart.

just by seeing it, thinking of you… this warm feeling washes over his freezing shivers that wrack him from anxiety. you melt it away. you make a typo in your message as he’s already exiting his place, meeting you, stepping in your car, greeting you with a gentle but wide hug, kissing your cheek and thumbing the ends of your pretty eyelashes.

so, even if he’s nervous, you were able to do it, and it is about time, after all. he can do it. he holds your hand the entire way.

amazingly enough, the drive draws his anxieties away, your hand in his, and far too distracted by your chatter and the way his legs must bend to fit in your passenger seat. you chat about work or school, or something an online player from his game did that was funny, even jamming out to your shared playlist. but then when you start slowing down, pulling into a street, hitting stop signs, it gets quiet.

“we’re acting like we’re going to the police station…” you point out, sharing a little laugh with your boyfriend, whose eyes are bouncing around as they always do. there’s lots of cars down this specific street. it’s why you have to park just a little ways to your destination, beside the curb, soobin gaping at the environment and litter of cars that definitely signifies there’s a lot of people inside. the growing clamminess in his palms only intensifies.

“soobin, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, baby,” your small flame of reassurance has him turning back to you, a crease between his eyebrows and a pout on his cute lips. you have this effect; the world can start spinning far beyond a speed he can keep up with, but there you go, slowing things down. “what?” his question comes out a lot louder than intended, making you both laugh. “i wanna do this… i’m just nervous is all. that’s normal. i’ll be fine, babe.” you don’t seem satisfied with that, nodding and trying to smile it off. he sighs, deflating into the seat.

“i just… i don’t want to leave a bad impression on your family.” he mumbles, ears growing crimson. you coo and he scoffs a little, fake annoyance at your touched reaction. soobin’s legs are folded, knees pulled up high from his great height, but they also surround a gorgeous bouquet of flowers that sit in a timeless vase he bought. those familiar, luscious gardens are so full, you can even catch a glimpse of their edges and you’re down the street from them. all in all, it’s a very sweet gesture — you paid witness to him tracking down multiple florists and online shopping for a pretty vase.

“that’s how i felt about your family! and look what happened? i’m still alive and it’ll be the same for you!” you wrap your hands around his bicep in an effort to warm him up. your cheek presses on his shoulder. his head angles down and your eyes lock. oh he’s a very weak man when it comes to you.

“that’s not fair!”

“what is?”

he exhales, eyes dropping to your steering wheel.

“no one could hate you. you’re basically perfect!”

and if you’d been an anime character, your nose would’ve for sure bled. it’s silly how he thinks this way of you when he’s got it flipped. he doesn’t even know how special and loved and wonderful he is. to you, at the very least.

after giving soobin a few more moments to prepare, you both unload your car once he feels ready to enter.

he watches with rapture at the way you look around at what he is seeing for the first time. it’s different the way you do it. you look at things with familiarity and this far away look that can’t decide itself between nostalgia or simple history. soobin’s heart thumps something harder because he’s about to see who you came from and how you came to be.

the door opens once you knock and there’s a few kids lingering in the hallway, waving at you, staring a little too long at soobin. you introduce them as your younger cousins, and all hell breaks loose once you tell them it’s your boyfriend. soobin’s eyes grow so big at their loud excited voices, all asking questions about his height, if he loves you, if he has a lot of money, et cetera — all silly questions that feel like practice runs for when it comes to the adults. he allows himself to be shy, to stutter and make mistakes, expecting harsh reactions for doing so but your girl cousins simply coo and call him cute. the boys ask if he plays any games and right when an interesting conversation is about to start, you hear your mom’s voice before she makes her way over to you, grinning ear to ear.

looking down at others physically-wise is not new to him. he’s just been tall since he could remember, shy, too, might he add, so standing out isn’t a new concept. however, now as he meets your mom and slowly the rest of your immediate family bleed into the living room, he feels so exposed and naked, watching from above, like he can’t control his real body. he finds himself particularly scared. what grounds him is the way you hold his hand or link arms with him, turning your head all the way to face him, smiling at him like you’re the only two here. the littlest contact does wonders for him.

all good?

your eyes deliver this message in the shadows. his dimples flex.

all good.

for the first hour or so, it’s just introductions and endless flow of compliments. all your relatives call him cute, handsome, charming, and oh so very tall. he hides his blushes as best he can despite towering over you. everyone’s having dinner by the time you and he arrive, so you just assume your plates and eat at your own little table, talking and fighting the nervous sweats. soobin finds that the new foods he’s trying seem to distract him with how good they taste.

then, it gets a little… soobin doesn’t know how to put it. nor did he think it was his place to have an opinion. well, at least at first. one by one, some cousins and relatives come by to your table to get to know more about soobin. he gets flustered easily, so it was expected that he wouldn’t be able to handle everything perfectly. but, he did, not that he had a choice. you would be speaking for him, but they would cut you off, demanding he answer instead. you’d seemed flustered, apologizing, squeezing his palm and looking at him expectantly.

it became more than that.

soobin might not know the ins and outs of girl talk and well, the inner workings of your family, but he senses the backhandedness of the constant surprise your family members show at seeing you together. they choose their words incisively. his heart aches for you when they do so. your mom even jovially points out your flaws to contrast his strong points he’s only revealed to answer their question.

you just fight it off with an embarrassed grin, gripping onto soobin’s big hand from under the table.

there’s no place to try to even talk about what’s going on. not without any prying eyes following you or him. he has no ill feelings — well, maybe a little — towards your family, but he doesn’t understand why it is the way it is.

it’s getting awfully late, the party definitely running on momentum to carry on past the dead hours of the night, and you know it’s more than ready to begin bidding goodbyes. you rise from your chair, sparing soobin a tight smile, excusing yourself from your parents first before making any moves with soobin.

leaving seems a lost cause when you keep getting pulled aside by a relative or two. right when each conversation is done, your mom is calling you over to the kitchen to take leftovers. as you should.

it’s when he’s briefly alone, a few family members turn to him, simple questions on their tongue. his heart beats so fast and irregularly, but he somehow finds the strength to ask a few questions.

all he gets is one in, and somehow it is enough to answer a lot.

what were you like as a child?

he is met with inconsistencies or things that seem to be the opposite of you. they fumble softball questions, so obviously unaware of your hobbies, your favorite color, your passions, drawing assumptions of your character on the way they treated you as a kid. soobin smiles and nods, internally confirming his previous thoughts, though it makes his stomach ache at the thought of it.

sunshine comes around the corner in the form of you, speeding over with a large tupperware of food, nearly tripping with the bustling kids running around without care. your smile is stretched so big and he knows more than anything that it’s because you can’t wait to get out of there.

instead of excusing yourself individually from everyone with soobin like you’re supposed to, you both just get up and head to the door, waving and giving one big verbal goodbye. soobin holds the tupperware for you in one hand and he has your purse hanging over his shoulder, bowing his head a few times and smiling while you wave and keep saying bye until the door shuts behind you. you deflate with relief once it does that.

the walk to the car is quiet. both of your stomachs are turning with anxiety because you kinda do have to talk about it.

soobin opens the passenger car door, setting the bins down on the seat before closing, turning to face you as you lean on the car next to him. he moves away so, you can lean on where he was standing.

he can’t really let it go. they don’t even know you. maybe you gave them the opportunity to, while you grew up, maybe you didn’t. but, you just now are old enough, their lack of empathy and familiarity a result of their own carelessness. you were just a kid.

soobin turns on his heel to face you. his shoe twists the gravel beneath, dull against the incoherent beats of crickets chirping and cicadas buzzing. the streetlight above attracts a few fluttering moths, dim in its function, enough for fireflies to float around in the air. the world moves around you both, never pausing for either of you to try and catch your breath. literally. it spins on its axis at 1,000 miles per hour.

it is pretty baffling when he thinks about it. the way you do so much for him, calming down his faint heart, and his chest clenches at the annoyed urge that he can’t have the same or a better reciprocation of providing shelter, happiness, and love.

your eyes are still stuck on your dress shoes, head hanging low and back slumped against the passenger door of the car.

“sorry, you had to see all that.” you finally manage, moving upwards to look at him with a humorous smile.

the world moves fast regardless of what happens. soobin doesn’t know why he gets so hung up on the mountains he can’t move.

he blinks down at you, watching the way your curtain of eyelashes reflect a shine from the lamp post near you, fingers twiddling in real time at the speed of your thoughts. you are everything to soobin. he loves you and declares himself the happiest person ever being with you. isn’t that enough?

there’s a lot he knows he can’t do. but one thing is sure, he loves you endlessly.

“don’t be sorry, babe,” he takes another step closer to you, smile widening and at that, your mouth follows his expression. like magic, lighting a flame in his heart and tummy, your hands reach up towards his, and without sparing another moment, he takes them in his hands. you intertwine your fingers, moving your wrists a little, hands playing around.

there’s a part of him, wide and conquering, that has him unsure of what to say, no room to figure out the best thing to open up with or explain what unfolded. you yourself look overwhelmed with this very burden. even if your smiles say otherwise.

he makes a little noise that is somewhere between a gasp and a hum before sealing the proximity. soobin slides next to you against the car and gently rounds his arms over you, pulling you in for a hug that knows no end to comfort. he curls his hand in your hair. his fingers stroke softly through the area closest to your temple and your own hand fists into his clothes. a kiss is pressed to your crown and your eyes sting.

the crickets chirp so loudly around you. the bass of the muffled music booms from the inside, but it doesn’t reach your ears. he kisses again this time with an audible pucker, making you snicker into his bicep. your hand shifts up to drift over it. you wrap up in each other like two snakes on a caduceus.

soobin is so thankful you let him in to your little world, even if it meant you nicked yourself while opening the door to your background. it adds up as to why you’re so resilient and strong, characteristics he could only dream of being able to call himself. he thanks you for allowing him the honor to knowing you, understanding you, and loving you. the people you consider family don’t know you one bit, but he feels lucky because you let him know you. and you are so beautiful. he has to blink aggressively so as to will the stinging tears away.

“do you think your parents liked me?” he murmurs and you snort, angling your head to now face up at him.

“soob,” your tone is in warning, but he knows you’re joking. “you know they loved you.” with that answer, you reach up and stretch to peck the corner of his lips.

“and your family, too?”

“especially my family.” you chuckle, feeling the fabric of his sleeve. soobin holds back a sigh. guilt and a sort of odd tension bubbles in his gut.

“thank you for letting me meet them,” he mumbles against your hair. you hum out a response, but it mainly comes out as an acknowledgment. “now, i know we have tupperwares of food, but what if…?” you can hear his smile.

“what if we go get mcdonald’s and watch a show while we snuggle?” at the last word, soobin brings you closer in his chest, laughing at your muffled yelp and own laughter.

you angle your head to peck a kiss to his wrist, looking up at him and he is already gazing down at you, eyes full of love.

your heart races just a bit at the excitement but also because you know you are due to talk about how you felt during the dinner. the drive home is going to be filled with your favorite songs, you and your boyfriend singing along to the lyrics while the other one talks or comments on tonight. soobin drives this time, ordering and picking up the food, your order memorized. you feed him some ice cream while practically downing your own. once the show is on, food is settled, you and him are wrapped up in blankets. you bring it up on your own accord, talking about how your family made you feel and how you already would rather spend heaps of more time with soobin’s than your own. soobin will stay quiet for a bit, hand rubbing your back in circles until he tears up, making you tear up, leaving you two to have quite a heart to heart. the forecast has already played out, but it doesn’t matter; none of it does since you have soobin and he makes you so happy. so, you pull away, giving him a big smile, which makes him light up like a star, and say,

“i’d want nothing more.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

ending note: if you have any ideas or requests that have actual plots and want to spare me one and do me a favor, please hit me up T_T i feel like i give you guys nothing and i’m so sorry,,, if you made it to the end, thank you 🙏

#soobin angst #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #txt imagines #txt angst #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt comfort

[im-robins-bitch]

An Ode To Roadtrips (Fruity Four x Gn! Reader)

Or, you had always wanted to go on a roadtrip, when you go with your four loves it turns out it isn’t exactly like in the movies.  1.9k

Inspired by @love-toxin​ (their stuff is great go read!)

Eddie’s elbow was jamming into you and continued to do so with increasing velocity as Eddie complained that none of his music was on the mix tape. Steve insisted it was on shuffle and one would come on soon. The discussion began anew every time a new song played and you were growing sick of it, but Eddie, who had ‘suffered through an entire ABBA tape’ was not going to let up anytime soon.

A cooler crammed on your lap was only adding to your discomfort. Your ass was aching on either side no matter how often you readjusted. Eddie had promised to swap it to his lap during the initial packing phase. Then his long legs hadn’t fit under Steve’s seat.  So his legs were jammed up against the seatseat and there was no room for the cooler on top of them. His uncomfortable position was only encouraging his sour mood. 

Robin was the third in your backseat trio and she was suffering from car sickness. She had promised she still had some travel sickness pills when Nancy had asked. Told everyone she had some in her backpack when Steve questioned her before setting off.

Only she had packed an empty packet. 

Your hand was entwined with hers, squeezing it every so often in solidarity. 

Steve ignored Eddie’s whining and turned Whitney Houston up louder. Eddie sank back into his seat once again and dropped his head against yours, smacking a kiss to it. 

Nancy and Steve were the only ones who were in relative comfort. Both sat in the front seats, Steve driving and Nancy giving him directions, the map dutifully laid on her lap. 

Every so often Nancy would watch Robin in the rearview mirror. She had a soft spot for the two of you. You knew it was killing her that she couldn’t take Robin's sickness away, it was killing you too. 

This whole road trip had seemed like a fun idea when it had been brought up. Going far away from Hawkins for a little while, deep into the woods where no one could disturb you. Allowing the five of you to fully relax for once. Not having to worry about prying eyes, about if you were acting too close for a group of friendly roommates. 

You only realised a little too late the reality of how annoying road trips could really be. Crammed into a car with too much stuff. The lack of space causing any possible tension to be multiplied. God forbid someone needed the bathroom shortly after you had already passed a service station. Of the five of you, only Nancy and Eddie had truly been on long road trip drives before. Nancy with her family and Eddie with his bandmates, going to shows in his van. It wasn’t living up to the romanticised fantasy you, Steve and Robin had envisioned when planning. 

“Not much longer now,” Nancy assured. The three of you in the back were glad to hear it. Eddie seemed to perk up at the news. 

He pressed a smattering of kisses to the side of your face. You moved your face to kiss him back, your free hand cupping his cheek to hold him in place. He shivered at the coldness of your touch, caused by the cooler. You nipped lightly at his bottom lip making him whine. “Hey,” Mumbled Robin, not wanting to be left out. She looked so pitiful, looking up at you from her slouched position with a pout on her lips. She slumped against you, shoving the cooler against Eddies legs to get closer. 

“Ow!” Yelled Eddie dramatically, rubbing his hand up and down his leg. He slid an arm around your shoulders to pull both you, the cooler and Robin closer to him. His hand carded through Robin's hair the way that he enjoyed with his.

Robin hummed in appreciation. 

You melted in the embrace of your two loves. Robin snuggled in as close as she could get to your chest, Eddie sandwiched between you and the cooler. It hadn’t always been this easy. 

Initially, Robin struggled with feeling a little like an outsider in your group. She was the only one who wasn’t sexually or romantically attracted to everyone in the group. It had been a little awkward at first, she wasn’t entirely sure how to slot herself in, but you all talked about boundaries and it was clear that between the two guys and her everything was purely platonic. 

Steve was her platonic soulmate, the solid rock by her side who always knew how to calm her down when she was getting into her head. Eddie on the other hand, brought out her wilder side.

You, Robin and Eddie, had become thick as thieves, always causing trouble much to Steve and Nancy’s chagrin. The two of them were the caretakers of the group, they loved you all so much and took care of you in their own ways. You all may not have had a traditional relationship, but it worked so much better than any relationships you had been in before. 

“Steve! Stop the car!” Robin blurted out. 

“Are you gonna be sick?” He exclaimed, “Please not on the seats,” He quickly pulled over. Your hand moved to soothingly rub at her back and Nancy spun to her, concern crowding her features. 

Robin scrambled out of the car. You followed out after her, ready to hold her hair back. 

Prepared to be met by a retching Robin you were shocked to see her bouncing on her toes, with a toothy grin. She was pointing at something and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at what you saw. 

There, in the middle of a rundown farm was the self-proclaimed ‘world's largest trumpet’. "Robin, what the fuck?” Steve exclaimed, adrenaline running through him at his sudden stop. 

“Please Steve we have to see it!” She begged, clasping her hands together. Suddenly it clicked in your mind as to why Robin had insisted on going to this particular campsite even though it was an extra hour away.

“Fine” He huffed, trying to hold back a smile. “15 minutes,” He warned, using his best dad voice, holding up his finger. 

His hands rubbed soothing circles into the bottom of your spine, his mouth pressing kisses to your cheeks. 

She squealed, her excitement met by Eddie who was racing her to get there first. Steve shook his head, watching the two idiots try to trip each other in the grass. “I swear...” He muttered, wrapping both his arms around your waist. “How is she running when she could barely move without threatening to hurl a second ago?" He questioned.

The two of you waited for Nancy who was rooting in the boot of the car for something. 

“Sore?” He questioned, feeling the way you keened into his touch and closed your eyes in relief. 

You nodded your head before burying your face in his neck. “My ass hurts” You mumbled, rubbing your nose against him. 

Steve snorted, moving his hands further down. Blocked by the car it seemed like you were hugging, rather than receiving an ass massage. You lifted your head, your chin moving to rest against his chest. You cupped his cheek, smiling as he leaned into your touch. “Are you sore?”

Steve shook his head and tugged you back into him again. You knew he was lying, there was no way his shoulders and back couldn’t be a little stiff. Your arms snaked up from around his waist to his shoulders. Your hands dug in trying to find a good rhythm and you were rewarded with Steve sighing contentedly when you did. 

“Got it!” said Nancy smiling in victory as she pulled out her camera. You pulled away from Steve with one last kiss and both of you linked hands with Nancy, one of you on either side. 

You slowly walked over to the other two, warming your legs back up. They were racing around the trumpet and waving their hands, yelling for the three of you to hurry up. When you finally reached them, they were out of breath from their excitement. 

Nancy insisted on taking photos in front of the trumpet, getting you all squished in together so she could take it and be in the photo too. 

“It’s over 104 feet long!” Robin explained once the photo shoot was over, “Isn’t that cool? And-” Her next fact was interrupted as a toot came from the trumpet in question. You all turned and saw a bashful-looking Eddie standing at the mouthpiece. “...it even works,” Robin finished, scowling at Eddie. 

“That’s disgusting!” Yelled Steve “Think about how many people's mouths have touched that.” Eddie only laughed, not taking Steve’s disgust seriously. 

“Yum,” 

Robin stuck her tongue out in disgust and Nancy had a similar response. You giggled, even more so when Eddie stuck his tongue back out at Robin. 

“I’m not kissing you after that,” Steve said and Eddie's childish glee diminished at once. 

“What! C’mon,” Eddie pouted. 

The pout on Eddie's face finally made Steve smile, “That’s what happens when you misbehave.” 

“Yeah Eddie, that's what happens when you misbehave.” You parroted, crossing your arms to mirror Steve's stance. 

“Oh yeah?’ He taunted. He launched himself at both you and steve, and the two of you dived out of the way just in time to avoid being knocked to the floor.

You then spent the next fifteen minutes running from Eddie as he chased everyone around and gave wet kisses to anyone he could catch. Your shrieks and giggles filled the air as you all ran around the field to avoid his sloppy kiss, until at last, you all returned, exhausted, to the car. 

Steve’s original 15-minute rule had gone forgotten, though he didn’t seem to mind. Hesat on the hood of his car with Eddie standing between his legs, pecking his lips over and over again. 

Nancy was rearranging the items in the back, trying to find a way to fit the cooler in the trunk and at least make it so you didn’t have something so heavy and cold digging into you for the rest of the ride. 

You ended up sitting on a sleeping bag rolled out over the back seat with a couple of blankets tossed over top. Robin was fast asleep, a balled-up jumper cushioning her head against the window.

Eddie was drooling on your shoulder, mumbling in his sleep. You weren’t far behind either, eyes blinking back open every time you caught yourself dozing off until at last you went slack.

Nancy grinned in contentment, telling steve each direction softly as not to wake you all up. 

They came to a stoplight and Steve used the moment it gave him to look back at his favourite people knocked out in the back. Nancy's hand covered his on the gear stick and he lifted it to his mouth for a sweet kiss. 

The mixtape switched over to the next song and Sweet Child O’Mine played quietly throughout the car. Eddie sang along in his sleep.

It was rare he felt content nowadays. He was always looking for danger after the horrors he had been through. Now he let himself relax.

masterlist

#fruit four x reader #fruity four blurb #fruity four fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley blurb #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler blurb #nancy wheeler #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things

[melonbear51]

Lasombra concepts

I got your ask @iamthegodof but for some reason Tumblr won’t let me answer it normally so here we are lol. So, I know I say this about all the clans, but the Lasombra are just *chef's kiss.* Their vibes, their disciplines, their history are just top tier. Complete side note: the song/spoken-word poem "Want" by Recoil just SCREAMS Lasombra and I highly encourage you to check it out if you want to get into the headspace of one before a roleplay sesh or just want to jam out. But you didn't want song recs or opinions, you wanted ideas, so here they are! 1. We all know the Ventrue and Lasombra are antagonistic towards each other, to say the least. Imagine a pair of feuding vamps, one of each clan, who decide to truly test which clan is superior. As such, they target a pair of identical twins, the Lasombra siring one and the Ventrue siring the other. The twins are then encouraged to rise in vampire society, gain power, and generally become better and stronger than their sibling. By any means they see fit. I feel like playing the Lasombra twin in this scenario could be incredibly interesting, as they could either genuinely love their sibling and not want to participate in this charade, or resent and hate their sibling and fully give in to the ruthlessness of their bloodline at their sire's urging. Plus, the dynamics with their sire are just a breeding ground for interesting (and pretty unhealthy) interactions. 2.  A famous classical musician whose performances have a strict "no photographs or recordings allowed" policy.  They refuse to release albums or recordings, stating that performance art is best live, and that mechanical reproductions suck the soul out of art. This, of course, is a complete crock of bullshit and the musician is actually a Lasombra trying to make sure their bane doesn't get them caught by the Second Inquisition. Thanks to their retinue of security ghouls who diligently keep an eye on crowds and venues, they haven't run into too many issues, but the stress this causes them is doing nothing for their mental health and is making them begin to hate that which once gave them joy. 3. A Lasombra who specializes in corporate espionage. Need a competitor's newest prototype to glitch right before an important press event? They've got you covered. Need trade secrets or information on an upcoming acquisition or deal? They'll seduce the right employee and get the information out of them one way or another. The paycheck and the vitae are great, but the enjoyment they get out of it? Priceless. 4. A Lasombra who practices the Japanese art of Kintsugi, both to make a living and because they find it therapeutic. After all, much like the broken pottery, they've mended and come back stronger and, in their opinion, more beautiful. For a darker spin on this otherwise wholesome concept, have them really enjoy sabotaging others' lives and unlives to see "how much more beauty and strength can be achieved through adversity." 5. A Lasombra fledgling abandoned after the embrace, who, after a turbulent adjustment period, seems to be finding their way and who enjoys learning more about their bloodline from sympathetic clanmates and older vampires willing to educate them.  What this fledgling doesn't know is that their sire is a VERY old vampire who abandoned them to truly test the "survival of the fittest," sink-or-swim mentality of the clan. This vampire has been watching them from the shadows, and will only reveal themselves if they think their childe worthy of their presence. 6.  A Lasombra who leads a religious congregation at a college's local church/temple/mosque/[INSERT PLACEOF WORSHIP HERE]. Holding prayer meetings and other extracurriculars complete with vitae-spiked refreshments , the Lasombra has slowly been ghouling a sizeable section of the congregation, providing them with an ample herd to drink from and young, impressionable minds to mold as they see fit. 7. A Lasombra neonate who presented their staked sire to the Camarilla in order to join the sect. Initially happy to have a modicum of safety, they've become tired of their treatment from the Ivory Tower and plagued by guilt. Recently they have begun to consort with the Hecata in order to learn the secrets of Necromancy so they may see their sire once more. 8. A Lasombra grief counselor who actually engineered the deaths of their patient's loved ones and who is slowly indoctrinating them into the nihilistic views of the Cult of Shalim. Thanks again for engaging with my ideas and interacting with me! If you'd like to tip me (though you are under no obligation to do so) you can do so with this ko-fi link: https://ko-fi.com/melonbear51 Hope you enjoy these!

#Vampire The Masquerade Bloodlines #vampires #Clan Lasombra #Lasombra #Hecata #cult of shalim #VTMB #VTM #vtm v5 #vtmb2 #vtm ocs #fang formulas #ttrpg #ttrpgs #oc character #character concept #character ideas #ny by night #la by night #world of darkness #vampire the masquerade #vampire the masquerade bloodlines 2 #vampire: the masquerade #vampire chronicles #ventrue

[theresattrpgforthat]

Any good games for a birthday party? ie. on the shorter side, ideally collaborative/GMless, low set up time, no prep, easy to teach. Very open on themes but urban fantasy would be a plus.

I get this is a tall order so I totally understand if there aren't many options.

Appreciate what you do!

THEME: Party Games

Hello friend, thank you very much! There’s quite a few GM-less games out there but I agree that’s important to be cognizant of the birthday party setting in order to make sure a game in which everyone understands what they’ve got going on. I hope you find these recommendations useful!

Please Report to Customer Service, by KitRole.

You are a Kid.

You have been separated from your Adult at the Store.

This is widely regarded as a Bad Thing. “Please Report to Customer Service…” is a rules-light, GM agnostic TTRPG, written  over 12 hours for the Lost Caravan Game Jam 2023. It has not been tested, needs no prep, and requires at most 2d6 to play. Gather your friends to play as a gaggle of siblings, or play solo. Either way, the goal is the same:

Find your Grown Up, or cause chaos trying.

This is a cute, lighthearted game that has great potential for silliness. You can choose whether you run this game with or without a GM: a GM would be responsible for setting the scene and coming up with encounters, but players can also collaboratively create problems for each-other. There's no inherent fantasy rules but it's easy enough to create fantastical or magical traits for your kids. Perhaps you're three elf children and a faun, or perhaps you're all secretly cryptid kiddos! If you want something that allows you to play silly little folks with low stakes, this game might be worth checking out. 

Hallow Unseen, by marymcharg

Spooky season has finally arrived, and your group of friends have all been invited to the biggest Halloween party in town. But while most invitees will be shopping for costumes, you won’t have to… 

Tonight is the one night of the year where creatures of myth, beasts of legend, and monsters of nightmare can live among humans without fear- and what better way to spend it than getting drunk at a stranger’s house, making a fool of some arrogant humans, and maybe learning a bit about yourself too?

Hallow Unseenis a Halloween-themed coming-of-age TTRPG, filled to the brim with cryptids and teen drama. This is a diceless system- all you need to play is a deck of cards!

The game is short and the character sheets are simple, which makes this game easy to learn. It makes use of tried-and-true tropes, which means that the premise of the game should be pretty understandable for new folks. It does require a GM however, so it’s probably something that one person should agree to pick up ahead of time. Check it out if you want to let everyone embrace their inner teenager, and all the messiness that brings.

Fey Critter Tea Party, by anniedisaster.

Gather your friends (2 or more) and journey through the Magic Wilderness gathering ingredients for some wonderful baked goods just in time for tea! This game is GM-less and only requires a simple D4 to play! 

It comes with 4 adventures, each with 4 sessions of play. Each session can take as little as a half hour-45 minutes to a few hours depending on how involved and how into the story building everyone is! 

There is no set DM, instead, everyone takes their turn building up parts of the story and role-playing as an NPC or an enemy, etc. The setting and the adventure outlines are simple and easy for both kids and adults to play. 

This game is cozy, cute, and with a theme of gathering ingredients for baked goods, I imagine it would pair well with some birthday cake to eat after you finish play! The game comes with 4 pre-written adventures, so to reduce prep you can simply pick one of those and follow along. 

Unlikely Ambassadors, by Luciano Correa.

The rumors circulating in the main hall are confirmed by the desperate cry of a mansion servant. The ambassador of Vol Redinjia, the country on the brink of an unprecedented revolution, has disappeared from the face of the earth, upsetting the distinguished partygoers. Nothing foreshadowed that an event like this, which would bring together important figures from the four main nations of the oldest continent, each with more conflicts than the previous one, would end so disastrously. By chance, fortune, or disgrace, nobody in this party is more qualified than you to solve the case. It is your duty to investigate every corner of the Duke of Nekronia’s mansion.

Unlikely Investigators is a GM-less roleplaying game of mystery and intrigue. Collaborate with your fellow investigators to solve the mystery of the disappearance of the ambassador; search for clues around the mansion, talk to the peculiar and distinguished party guests, and come up with a theory that explains the weird happenings around the case. The game comes in a trifold pamphlet format, ready to print and play.

Murder mysteries are classic party-pleasers. This game combines the the feel of Clue with the mystery-solving mechanics of Brindlewood Bay, which means that all of the players will get to solve the mystery together. This pamphlet comes with eight characters for your investigators to interrogate, and inspiration tables for clues and complications. There’s no demand that fantasy be present in the game, but there’s room to make things magical, eerie, and/or horrific. I think this game is very smartly put together, and I recommend you check it out!

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #asks #dnd #birthday games #short games #GM-less #urban fantasy #game recommendations

[kykyonthemoon]

For the winter prompts, could i have 1 with kaeya x reader?

Hello, thank you for the request~

Since you hadn't state any specific prompt, I wrote up something fluffy I thought you might like. I didn't make it for Kaeya birthday, but I hope a day later is still okay ＼(＾▽＾)／

Cozy morning with Kaeya

— 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 / 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Kaeya x Reader

— 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: fluff, romantic fluff

— 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Kaeya came home after his night shift to find comfort in your arms.

— 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 831

— 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕

— 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

— 𝐚𝐨𝟑

— 𝒉𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒃

---------------------------------

Kaeya returned home in the early morning while you were still asleep. You could feel the blanket pulling up higher to warm your body, as well as a light kiss in your hair. You then heard the cabinet door open and close silently, followed by hesitant footsteps on the wooden stairs, as if trying to make as little noise as possible.

You eventually turned around. It was not quite bright yet. You could tell Kaeya had returned, but he was not in the room. You got off  the bed, took a woolen blanket, and wrapped yourself in it.

Kaeya could not be seen in the living room or kitchen. There was only one place to look for him. You walked inside his workroom and opened the door. Kaeya slumped face down at the desk, a mess of papers and books covering the surface. There was a glass of wine nearby that was missing just a sip. You walked over to him.

The mood in Mondstadt was more lively at the end of the year, with great festivals and winter markets open all night. It also meant that members of the Knights of Favonius would have to work harder to ensure the safety of residents and visitors throughout the holiday season. As their Cavalry Captain, Kaeya was responsible for night patrols and occasionally had to deal with the hilichurls who deliberately looted goods on the way. Although he always claimed that it was a little issue that he could solve in a flash, his worn expression every morning when he returned home made you want to give him a prolonged embrace.

Kaeya must have been tired after a rough night on patrol. He just had enough time to change into his pyjamas and put on a blue-gray nightgown that matched his hair color before sleeping in the workroom since he did not want to wake you up if he climbed into bed. He skipped breakfast and instead drank a glass of wine, yet still left it there. You sighed quietly. This guy can take care of the entire Mondstadt yet was unconcerned about himself.

Your cool fingers brushed over his cheekbone. Kaeya seemed to awaken. He took your hand in his and drew it closer to his face.

“Y/N…”

He mumbled your name sleepily. You were standing next to him, caressing his tousled hair.

"Kaeya, get up for breakfast and then go to bed."

Kaeya hummed briefly before following you into the living room. He insisted on assisting you with breakfast preparation, but you could not really allow him because of his worn expression. You left him in the living room and went to the kitchen by yourself. Breakfast was simple, consisting of tea break pancakes with berry jam and two cups of hot chocolate. Having them all done, you put them on a tray and took them to Kaeya in the living room.

When you were not around, he did fall asleep. He was still sitting, his head resting on the edge of the sofa, his eyepatch had been removed to rest on the table. He appeared to be like a sleeping kitten, which was both amusing and endearing to you. You approached and sat down next to him.

“Kaeya? Breakfast is ready.”

Kaeya awoke once more. His bewildered face glanced at you, then his arms found you, wrapped around your waist, and drew you up close. You stroked Kaeya's silky hair again as his head rested on your shoulder. You sealed it with a kiss.

"I need to convince Captain Jean to grant you some time off." You muttered.

Kaeya shook his head dumbly, stating in a kitten-like voice, "Without me, the Knights of Favonius wouldn't be okay at all..."

“Without you, I am not okay either…”

You exhaled a sigh. It's not that you're complaining; it's simply that you missed Kaeya and wished he could rest more. His hard work made you feel dreadful, as if you had not taken care of him at all. 

Kaeya drew back, one hand still wrapped around your waist and the other caressing your cheek.

“My apologies, Y/N! Next week, another troop will take turns patrolling the night. I'll come home immediately and take you to the Mondstadt night market, okay?"

You sighed and responded, "I simply want Kaeya to pay attention to his own health. I'm not asking you to always be with me and console me."

Kaeya began to laugh.

"Yes. I know. I apologize for causing you concern. Now I'm going to eat my breakfast and then go to bed, like a good boy. You won't be able to wake me before five in the afternoon."

You laughed too. Kaeya only showed such childishness when you were together.

"Keep your words. If you get up before five, there won't be dinner for you."

Kaeya grinned cheerfully, his lips traveled down the length of your nose, halting just at your slightly parted lips. Outside, it was snowing.

-The End-

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you #genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #reader #fanfic #fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #requested #thanks for requesting! #winter #latte for two series

[narcissa-black-supermacy]

Well, I want in.

13 & 18 my darling Dani. With the prettiest of pleases. And I don’t even care who you do (yes even prongfoot or snirius but the cringe is great and mountainous)

okay so since i am……a complete dyslexic dumbass…..i somehow misread the prompt numbers by one? and i am only now realising these are actually 12 and 17 instead of 13 and 18? but i already wrote it so you will have to accept them (youre welcome to send me another one as an apology tho (like, as me apologising to you - you do not owe me an apology))

(also no great mountainous cringe for you today, i did wolfstar feat. jegulus for you. this is a 2-in-1 package deal) (also i wrote half of that to the song you sent me and the other half to MSI)

12. Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over? + 17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

Send me an OTP question from the list and a ship and I’ll respond with a drabble.

-

James glances around the dark backyard, its emptiness amplified even further by the thick layers of white snow covering everything around them. It’s criminally cold outside, to the point that even the usual warming charms they use on the go do not work anymore to chase away this kind of frost.

“I’m telling you, Reg, it’s a bad idea.” He says and brings up his hands to rub them together, breathing out a cloud of warm air onto his frozen palms. “Sirius doesn’t just cancel plans last-minute like this, something must have happened.” The warm breath out of his mouth rises up to his glasses, clouding his vision with hot steam.

“I don’t care, James, they promised us dinner.” Regulus reaches out to take off his glasses, wipes them on the hem of his robes, and runs a quick spell on the glass of the spectacles before gently sliding them back up his nose. “And Sirius’ ideas are bad all the time anyway, I’m allowed to have one bad idea every once in a while.” He turns back to the door and knocks with the bottom of his fist, much more loudly and forcefully than last time. “Open up, we’re freezing out here, you animals!”

There is finally a sign of life from inside, voices and a sound of feet shuffling downstairs before the door is thrown open and Sirius appears in the doorway. Besides a black jumper and jeans, he is wearing a deep frown on his face, glaring down at them like they are a chorus of children asking for donations on Christmas for the seventh time in one evening. He looks mostly tired.

“Hello,” Regulus tilts his head to the side and gives his brother a wide smile. “Next time you keep me out in the cold like this, I’m blowing the door out.” He pushes underneath Sirius’ arm, which is blocking the passage with the way it’s rested against the other side of the wall, and unceremoniously makes his way inside.

Sirius watches him as he does, but does not say anything. Once Regulus is inside, he turns to James.

“Prongs,” He raises a hand to run it through his hair. “don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you here?”

James offers him a sheepish smile. “Reg said that if you ask me that, I get to blame everything on him.” He steps forward to pull Sirius into a hug before getting inside. He can feel the tension in his shoulders when he does, although Sirius does return the embrace and steps aside to let him in.

“Reg, I understand that you are a big, pretentious douchebag with no concept of personal space,” he grumbles as they both make their way over to the kitchen of their house, where Regulus has already dropped off his snow-covered coat and is now busy rummaging through the cabinets, “and I respect that, but this is a really bad time.”

“You are about to have a really bad time if I don’t eat.” Regulus yells back from the kitchen.

The commotion draws attention from upstairs and Remus comes down to join them, hair a little dishevelled and the same frown in place that is still present on Sirius’ face as well. “James?” He asks, a little puzzled, just before his eyes wander over to Regulus.

James grins at him and raises his hand in greeting. “Our portkey point was around here, so we thought we would stop by before we head home.” He explains apologetically. “We can go if we’re interrupting, it’s not--”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Regulus cuts him off as he pulls out a half empty box of cereal from one of the cabinets, grimacing in disgust at the packaging before shoving it back inside, “we are staying, they owe us a dinner.”

Remus turns to face Sirius and his eyebrow raises in a silent statement. He nods his head in Regulus’ direction subtly, and Sirius grunts loudly, leaning back against the counter behind him.

“What do you want me to do?” He asks in irritation. “They’re already here.”

“This is exactly what we talked about.” Remus says impatiently. “You have no boundaries.”

“I told them not to come today, they just showed up!” Exclaims Sirius in return, throwing his arm up in the air as he gestures at James next to him.

“Because you allow it!”

“What was I supposed to do, leave them outside?”

“Yes!”

“No!”

James uses the opportunity to slide away from between them while he remains unnoticed and joins Regulus, who is now crouched down by the freezer, studying the contents of it with a careful concentration on his face.

He pulls out a long plate with a row of frozen lamb ribs in it. “How about some ribs on the grill?” He drops the plate on top of the counter and goes for the fridge next. “With some..” he pauses, eyes scanning the insides of the appliance methodically, “mashed potatoes and asparagus. Merlin, these two really need help with their shopping, there aren’t even any mushrooms in here.”

“My friends don’t show up here unannounced whenever they feel like it.” Remus goes on, the accusation in his tone growing as they keep arguing.

“Sounds like a plan.” James agrees. He snaps his fingers at the utensils drawer to float the necessary tools out of it while Regulus performs a thawing charm on the frozen ribs. “I’ll start on the potatoes and the salads.”

“Your friends? What friends do you even have, Remus? We have the same friends, James is your friend as much as he’s mine--”

“Oh, come on, now you’re just being a cunt.”

Regulus gives them both a funny look. “Let it be stated for the record that I am friends with none of you. I only have unfortunate family ties in this room.”

“Go freeze to death.” Sirius snaps at him harshly at the same time Remus turns his head to say, “Shut it, Regulus.”

Regulus pushes his bottom lip out in a mock-offended pout and turns to gaze at James sadly. “They are being mean to me.”

James smiles despite himself and reaches out a hand to ruffle the other’s hair gently. “You should probably leave them alone unless you’re actually trying to get us kicked out.”

Regulus leans into the touch. His gaze wanders back over to the bickering pair. “What’s their deal anyway?” he asks with a click of his tongue.

James shrugs his shoulder. “They fought about something before we got here.”

Regulus stares off at the wall thoughtfully for a moment, then turns to address his brother again. “When was the last time you had sex? That usually solves--” James hurries to quickly slap a hand over his mouth.

“See?” Remus exclaims pointedly, turning to look at Sirius. “No fucking boundaries. Either of you three.”

Sirius lets out a low bark of laughter. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

Remus’ eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 Regulus arches an eyebrow and turns to face James once more. “Are they arguing about boundaries? Them, seriously?”

James tunes out the rest of their argument to focus on the dinner instead. Regulus works swiftly and methodically, and he is even faster when he is hungry, which is very fortunate because while James hates to be the kind of person to diminish other people’s problems, he can not help but agree that sometimes certain grudges just go away on their own if you sit two people down in a warm living room and shove a bit of well-cooked food down their throats. The human body is just magical like that sometimes.

“If you ask me,” Regulus says, lowering his voice to half a whisper when they sit down at the table after the ribs have been seasoned and pushed into the oven to cook. “All they really need is some hot, steamy shower sex and a plate of hot grilled ribs.”

James pulls up the kettle at the centre of the table to pour them both a mug of chai. “Before or after the ribs?”

“Before, obviously.” Regulus deadpans, offering him a grateful nod when James slides the mug over to his side. “Food is best after sex.”

“Mmm.” James feels his lips curl up in a smirk as he brings up the cup to his lips. “Now you’re just giving me ideas on purpose.”

“Can you two stop being gross all over our dining table,” Sirius says with a grimace as he flops down on a chair across from them. The argument seems to have died down a little by now, but the heavy atmosphere still hangs in the air between them. “I’m about to throw up, thank you.”

Regulus watches his brother for a moment, the mug pressed between his fingers tightly. He looks over to James, gestures at Sirius with his eyes and raises his eyebrows in question. James gives him a subtle nod, to which Regulus blinks slowly in confirmation.

“I shall go check on the ribs.” Regulus announces loudly, pushing himself up from the table. I’ll talk to Lupin, he mouths at James wordlessly over his shoulder before leaving him and Sirius alone at the table.

James’ eyes wander over to Sirius, watching him as he drums his fingers against the surface of the table impatiently, eyes staring off at an unfocused point on the wall across from him. James sighs and reaches out a hand to close it over Sirius’.

“What is this about, Pads? Really.”

Sirius exhales slowly through his nose. He shuts his eyes and raises a hand to run it through his hair in a nervous gesture. “I don’t know, it’s not really… about anything, you know? It’s just..” He huffs out a sigh, averting his gaze to the window beside them. The snow keeps pouring on, covering everything in a dirty shade of white.

“Everything.” James agrees with a nod. “I know.” And he knows from the heavy look in Sirius’ eyes that he also knows.

It’s not a secret that the past few years after the war have been tough on all of them. And while it seems like it was such a long time ago, these things have a tendency to stick, to a point he could never even imagine to himself. Grieving people does not really have an expiration date on it, and apparently neither do the legal trials at the Supreme Wizarding Court.

Even Regulus’ trial, which was by far not as controversial as many of the others, like Bellatrix’ and Malfoy’s, was still dragged out into years and years of unending hearings, publicised in a way that should have never been allowed in the first place. The Ministry insisted on milking every last drop out of their stories, until Sirius was prepared to actually march down to the Minister’s office himself and threaten to set fire to the entire building if they don’t stop this absurd charade.

They were all promised a clean sheet, an opportunity to start over and change the society they live in, secure a better environment than the one they grew up in for kids at Hogwarts, a stronger support system for kids from non-magical families, better laws and conditions for marginalised groups in the wizarding world; werewolves, goblins, elves.

But what they were not told was that nothing came without a price, and that after all the fighting they’ve already done, most of it was still ahead of them, and nobody was going to give it to them that easily. Sirius was very vocal about his opinions in favour of the disbandment of the Beasts Unit and complete reform of the Registry, which did not always draw the most positive of attention.

All in all, it was not easy for either of them. Sometimes things just boiled over and got the best of them. James knows it for a fact because he and Regulus used to fight about that too, all the time. They still do, although it’s been getting better.

“How’s Harry?” Sirius asks suddenly.

James looks up to meet his eye. “With his mum and Mary. They have that thing in Ireland next month, so he’s staying with them this week instead.” He glances at the snow storm outside for a moment before returning his gaze back to Sirius. His fingers are still dancing against the table restlessly, drumming out an anxious melody.

“You know, Pads.. he’s not really upset about anything you said or did. It’s more about.. It’s frustrating. When these things get to us. Because it’s supposed to be us against them, you know? And instead here we are, fighting with each other over minor bullshit. It feels like losing to them.”

Sirius watched him for a long moment. “Yeah, I know.” He says quietly. “I hate that.” He admits, and James can hear the strain in his voice when he says that. “I will burn down the Ministry one day, mark my words.”

James feels his lips curl up in a smirk despite himself. “Just don’t forget to call me.”

There is a noise from upstairs and Regulus makes his way back into the kitchen, followed by Remus shortly after. James quickly excuses himself from the table under the alibi of having to help Regulus set the table, but more with the intent of leaving Remus and Sirius alone to talk for a minute than anything else.

“Sorry for yelling.” Sirius says quietly after a moment of silence between them when Remus lowers himself down into the chair across from him, eyes fixated on his own hands.

Remus raises his gaze to meet the other’s. “Sorry for calling you a cunt.”

Sirius blinks at him, then a small smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah, that was a bit uncalled for. You’ve been spending way too much time with my brother lately.”

Remus mirrors the smile. “Oh, yeah, and whose fault is that, Padfoot?”

Sirius rolls his eyes at him, but there’s a hint of affection in it. He gets up from his seat and hops over to take the chair next to Remus, leaning in to press a quick peck to his lips as he does so.

James does not realise he is staring until Regulus clears his throat next to him. “I think I also deserve a kiss for my matchmaking services.”

James turns to smile at him warmly. “Oh, you deserve a kiss regardless, love.” He reaches out a hand to wrap it around Regulus’ waist and pulls him closer against him, tilting his head in an angle to press a strong kiss to the other’s lips.

“So, you were saying ribs?” Sirius yells at them from the table.

Regulus clicks his tongue and begrudgingly pulls away. “Honestly, what would you do without us.” He grumbles.

#this is 2.5K words?? what?? #i enjoyed every second i am sobbing my heart hurts i love them so much precious babies #wolfstar feat jegulus is just......the ultimate go to dynamic i love them #this warms my soul #hope you enjoy this #wolfstar #jegulus #james x regulus #regulus x james #james/regulus #sirius x remus #sirius/remus #my writing

[chipotle]

You're So Vain, You Probably Think This App Is About You: On Meta and Mastodon

Those of you not plugged into the Mastodon community may not be aware of the predominant reaction to Instagram Threads. This started when it was merely rumored, reaching a crescendo with reports that Meta had been talking to a few of the larger Mastodon instances under NDA, presumably to encourage them not to “defederate” with Threads when it came online.1 Let me describe that reaction for you, with only mild exaggeration:

Meta is coming! If Threads is allowed to become part of the Fediverse, it will destroy it! It will steal your data! It will inject ads onto your timeline! It will corrupt Mastodon into being everything you hate about Facebook and Twitter combined!

Let’s stipulate that Meta has a long history of doing demonstrably bad things, and that the argument I’m about to make—that Threads is not what people on Mastodon believe it is—should not be mistaken for an argument that Meta is just here to give everyone free cookies. Daring Fireball’s John Gruber has written extensively about how Facebook wanted NSO spyware to monitor iOS users, produced their own spyware VPN and pushed it within their mobile app, and how Facebook’s “unknowable megascale” created “societal harm…as easy for anyone to see as the respiratory problems caused by smoking.” Threads is a product of that data-tracking, spyware-installing, society-harming Facebook, and it is not joyless unreasonable alarmism to keep that in mind when we evaluate how fun and interesting it otherwise may be.

Having said that, Threads is not an attack on Mastodon to subvert it for nefarious purposes.

How can I say that so confidently? Because Threads is not a Mastodon instance. It is its own self-contained, centralized social network with plans to let its users follow Mastodon accounts and vice versa.

The difference is not mere semantics. Mastodon doesn’t care what client software you use—or even what server software you use. Threads does. Threads needs you to use their app. It’s baked into the business model. Facebook and Instagram never killed their robust third-party client ecosystem the way Twitter and Reddit recently did, because they never had one. They understood their business model from the get-go.

When push comes to shove, Threads is Instagram. That’s how, as of this writing, it already has over 100M accounts created. If you have an Instagram account, you have a Threads account. If you get a Threads account, you get an Instagram account. Threads has zero-effort access to over one and a half billion users who, by definition, tolerate Meta’s privacy policies and Instagram’s monetization strategies.

By contrast, Mastodon is maybe two and a half million users on a network explicitly positioned as “social networking that’s not for sale”. The users are much less receptive to monetization strategies. And as Mastodon founder Eugen “Gargron” Rothko notes, the design of the network makes it effectively impossible for Threads to collect personally identifiable information on Mastodon users merely interacting with Threads users.

So, on one hand: a billion users who accept Instagram showing them ads, algorithm-jamming their timelines and hoovering up as much personally identifiable information about them as they can. On the other: two or three million users on an explicitly anti-corporate platform engineered to be highly resistant to leaking private data. I dare you to make a convincing business case for Facebook spending a single cent trying to capture a fraction of the second group, when it’s less than a percent the size of the first group.

Threads is not now, and never will be, about Mastodon. It’s not about embracing it, extending it, or extinguishing it. It’s not about it at all.

So if Threads isn’t trying to overwhelm and destroy Mastodon, why have ActivityPub support at all? Two answers. First, “Look, see? We’re open!” is not only perceived as a great talking point these days, it’s perceived as a regulatory relief valve. Look, see? ActivityPub! We’re open!

Second, remember that the business model for Threads is keeping you on Threads. If 95% of your friends are on Threads but 5% are over on that weird Mastodon thing, now you don’t have to use Mastodon to follow them! Just follow them from Threads! Woo! Will Threads be a good Mastodon client? No, but it just has to hit “good enough.” Will any Mastodon client be a good Threads client? Fuck no. They don’t want you accessing Threads from Ivory or Tusky or Elk, they want you accessing it from the Threads app, guaranteed to show you as many ads and gather as much data as possible.

The argument Mastodon is collectively mustering against Threads is, at the end of the day, “but Facebook is evil!” Again, no argument. But Mark Zuckerberg is evil in the way of a greedy, privacy-flouting tech bro, not in the way of Sauron.2 Not only would the “extinguishing” part of “embracing, extending and extinguishing” Mastodon be extremely difficult at a technical level, the plausible <abbr title="return on investment">ROI</abbr> on doing so would be minimal at best—and probably even counterproductive.

Yeah, but should people defederate?

The aforementioned John Gruber is bullish on Threads’s chances, and he wrote “Threads is the most fun, most interesting new product of the year” on Mastodon (while taking a swipe with “have fun over here in the library,” as if libraries are terrible sad stern places, a weird dig for a professional writer to make, John). Seriously, while I love the estimable Mr. Gruber’s writing, when I look at Threads what I see is an influencer-infested, brand-driven, algorithmically-jammed-up crapfest. A lot like, well, modern Instagram, without the silver lining of pretty photographs.

My point is that Threads and Mastodon are already really different culturally. Even when-slash-if the ActivityPub bridge exists, I don’t think many Threads fans will rush to follow us Mastodon users over here having fun in the library, nor will many Mastodon users be rushing to follow their friends on Threads through the Mastodon client of their choice. I predict the vast majority of people who want to use both networks will maintain separate accounts to do so.

Instagram has thousands of content moderators, and while they’re already making decisions that will make everyone mad, they’re clearly making decisions. While I doubt Threads will officially follow the Mastodon Server Covenant, in practice I suspect they’ll be more strict in some respects. Instagram has a puritan streak that Threads will carry through—there’s a non-zero chance that Threads may refuse to federate with your instance because, I don’t know, you allow titties and people who say “fuck”. The chances of Threads becoming a conduit for harassment on Mastodon are slim.

Personally, I would federate with Threads in “silence” mode: my instance’s users would be able to follow Threads users and vice versa, but posts from Threads would not show up in any public timelines on my server. I think, though, this should be a choice each instance makes with input from their users, and it is a little dismaying how many instances are perfectly happy making that decision unilaterally.

The truly toxic idea, though, is that Mastodon instances should not only refuse to federate with Threads, but they should refuse to federate with other servers that do federate with Threads. In other words, users should be punished for decisions they have no control over and may not even be aware of, made by the administrators of servers they don’t belong to. I am dead serious when I call this toxic. The default position must, must, be that breaking your users’ social graphs is a last resort against clear and present danger. A server explicitly welcomes Nazis, child porn, TERFs, and serial harassers? Block that fucker. But it’s absurd to insist that federating with Meta’s general-interest server presents the same threat level.

Look. At the end of the day, I’m a Mastodon partisan. But I don’t love its collective tendency toward self-important dogmatism. I’ve seen more than one friend get set up only to pull back, worrying there are dozens of unwritten rules about content warnings and alt text and linking and boosting they will constantly be put on blast over. I have never seen so many self-identified queer leftists reflexively drop into well, actually mode.

New users frequently get stuck on the “pick an instance” part of Mastodon’s signup, and we always say oh, it doesn’t matter that much, which is just not true. Some instances seriously up the unwritten rule count; some suck at moderation, and the admins go tinpot dictator when they’re called on it; smaller ones get their plugs pulled with some regularity.3 How much worse will it be when hundreds of small-to-medium servers decide they won’t federate with the largest servers—the ones new users who took our “don’t stress about picking your instance” advice ended up on—because those servers have chosen not to block Threads? That level of fracture won’t preserve the Fediverse, it will mortally wound it.

The truth is, Threads is not about Mastodon. It’s about Meta and only about Meta, and Mastodon isn’t important enough to them to spend the considerable effort that would be necessary to destroy it. It’d be awfully damn ironic if the Fediverse decides it’s become necessary to destroy itself to stop them.

An “instance” in Mastodon parlance is one of the many distributed servers that comprises the network; Mastodon users have accounts on individual instances. Nearly all instances are “federated” with nearly all other instances, e.g., they allow their users to follow one another, but any instance can choose to “defederate” with any other instance. [return]

Peter Thiel, however, is evil in the way of Sauron. [return]

And let’s not get into how many asterisks there still are to “moving between instances is easy”: sure, as long as you remember to export the right things first, do everything in precisely the right order, and oh yes, don’t care about losing your entire post history. [return]

[giftsforus]

Farmer Christmas Gift Ugly Sweater Party

The holiday season is a time for spreading joy and love, and what better way to do that than by hosting a Farmer Christmas Gift Ugly Sweater Party? This unique and festive event is the perfect opportunity to bring together men and women from all walks of life, and ensure that there is a gift for everyone. The theme of the party revolves around ugly Christmas sweaters, but with a fun twist. Instead of the typical Santa Claus or reindeer designs, the sweaters are adorned with farm-related motifs. Picture cows, chickens, tractors, and barns, all dressed up for the holidays. These sweaters are not only amusing, but they also celebrate the hard work and dedication of farmers who play a crucial role in providing us with food and resources. The Farmer Christmas Gift Ugly Sweater Party is all about inclusivity and creating a welcoming atmosphere for everyone to enjoy. Whether you're a farmer, an agriculture enthusiast, or simply someone who appreciates the rural lifestyle, this gathering is for you. The party invites men and women to come together, fostering a sense of community and allowing for friendships to be formed. As for the gifts, there is something for everyone at this festive event. Since it's a Farmer Christmas Gift party, the gifts exchanged should reflect the theme. Consider unique and practical presents that farmers can utilize in their daily lives. You could opt for gardening tools, seeds, or even a subscription to a farming magazine. For those who may not be actively involved in farming, gifts that celebrate the rural lifestyle are also great options. Think about cozy flannel blankets, farmhouse-inspired decorations, or even homemade jams and preserves. In addition to the gift exchange, the party can also feature various activities and games to keep guests entertained. For example, a tractor-pulling contest can be organized, where participants compete to see who can drag the heaviest load. Alternatively, you could set up a hay bale stacking competition, challenging guests to see who can build the tallest tower. These activities not only add an element of fun to the party but also provide an opportunity for guests to showcase their farming skills and strength. As with any successful party, food and drinks play a crucial role. Embrace the rustic theme by serving up hearty dishes such as homemade chili, cornbread, and apple pie. To truly capture the spirit of a Farmer Christmas Gift Ugly Sweater Party, consider incorporating local produce and ingredients into the menu. This not only supports local farmers but also adds an authentic touch to the overall experience. In conclusion, a Farmer Christmas Gift Ugly Sweater Party is a fantastic way to celebrate the holiday season with a unique twist. Bringing together men and women from all walks of life, this event is inclusive, fun, and ensures that there is a gift for everyone. So, grab your ugliest sweater and get ready for a holly, jolly farm-inspired celebration!

Get it here : Farmer Christmas Gift Ugly Sweater Party

Home Page : tshirtslowprice.com

Related : https://giftsforus.tumblr.com/post/722543964450930688/personalized-villian-ursula-the-little-mermaid

#UglyChristmasSweater

[julierysava]

Next Week🌟 Saturday Serenity: Embrace the Weekend Vibes! 🌼🌞

Hey there, Tumblr fam! 🌟 The weekend is here, and it's time to kick back, relax, and savor the simple joys of life. Whether you're out on an adventure or enjoying some well-deserved downtime, Saturdays are for soaking in the serenity.

🚶‍♂️ Explore the Outdoors: Take a leisurely stroll in the park, hike a scenic trail, or simply bask in the beauty of nature. There's something magical about the great outdoors to rejuvenates the soul.

📚 Get Lost in a Book: Find a cozy nook and lose yourself in the pages of a good book. Whether it's a thrilling mystery, a heartwarming romance, or a fantastical adventure, let your imagination roam free.

🎶 Groove to the Music: Create a playlist which sets the perfect weekend mood. Music has the power to uplift, inspire, and transport us to different worlds. What's your go-to weekend jam?

☕ Sip and Savor: Treat yourself to your favorite brew, whether it's a steaming cup of coffee, a fragrant tea, or a decadent hot chocolate. Pair it with a sweet treat for an extra dash of indulgence.

🌼 Practice Mindfulness: Take a moment to meditate, practice yoga, or simply sit in stillness. Mindfulness allows us to appreciate the present and find tranquility amidst the hustle and bustle of life.

📷 Capture Memories: Bring out your camera or smartphone and capture the beauty of the world around you. Whether it's a stunning sunset, a blooming flower, or a candid moment, let your creativity flow.

🌟 Spread Positivity: Share a kind word or gesture with someone today. Small acts of kindness have the power to brighten not only their day but yours as well.

However you choose to spend your Saturday, make it a day filled with peace, joy, and a touch of magic. Share your weekend adventures and moments of serenity with us in the comments below. 🌈✨

#SaturdaySerenity #WeekendVibes #RelaxandRecharge #NatureLovers #Bookworms #MusicMagic #CoffeeTime #MindfulnessJourney #CaptureTheMoment #SpreadKindness #TumblrCommunity #SaturdayAdventures #SimpleJoys #WeekendEscapes #SavorTheWeekend #EnjoyThePresent #SaturdayMagic #CherishEveryMoment #PeacefulSaturday #SereneWeekend

[paradiselifeebikes]

Coastal Escapes and Electric Thrills: Paradise Life E-Bikes in Dunedin, Florida!

Are you ready to embark on an exciting journey through the natural beauty of Dunedin, Florida? Paradise Life E-Bikes invites you to experience the thrill of e-biking while exploring the enchanting landscapes of this coastal paradise. Whether you're a local resident or a curious traveler, our e-bike rental company promises an unforgettable adventure that combines eco-consciousness, freedom, and pure joy.

The E-Biking Revolution: Embrace the Future of Adventure

E-bikes have revolutionized the way we explore the great outdoors. With pedal-assist technology, you can conquer hills and cover more ground without breaking a sweat. At Paradise Life E-Bikes, we are passionate about bringing this electrifying experience to Dunedin, allowing you to embrace adventure like never before.

Why Choose Paradise Life E-Bikes?

Eco-Friendly Exploration: Our e-bikes are eco-conscious, producing zero emissions as you ride through the city and nature trails. Experience the joy of adventure while leaving a minimal impact on the environment.

Accessible Adventures: E-bikes cater to all skill levels and fitness levels. Whether you're a seasoned cyclist or a beginner, our e-bikes offer a seamless and comfortable riding experience.

Freedom to Explore: With an e-bike from Paradise Life, you have the freedom to explore Dunedin at your own pace. No need to worry about parking or traffic jams – simply hop on and venture wherever the path leads you.

Captivating Trails: Dunedin is a treasure trove of hidden trails, and our e-bikes will take you to these natural wonders. Discover breathtaking views, serene mangroves, and the pristine shores of Honeymoon Island State Park.

Memorable Experiences: Create lasting memories with friends and family as you embark on exciting e-bike adventures together. Capture Instagram-worthy moments and cherish the joy of exploring this picturesque coastal city.

Unveil Dunedin's Hidden Gems

Dunedin is a city that embraces nature, offering an array of outdoor activities for every adventurer. Here are some must-visit spots and trails you can explore with Paradise Life E-Bikes:

Honeymoon Island State Park: Pedal along the scenic shores of this stunning state park, known for its unspoiled beaches and wildlife.

Caladesi Island State Park: Experience the serenity of this pristine island accessible only by boat or nature trails.

Dunedin Causeway and Pinellas Trail: Discover the charm of Dunedin as you ride along the Pinellas Trail, connecting you to various parks and neighborhoods.

Experience the Paradise Life Difference

At Paradise Life E-Bikes, we are committed to providing top-notch service and memorable experiences for our riders. Our fleet of e-bikes is meticulously maintained, ensuring a safe and reliable ride every time. Our friendly team is here to assist you with any inquiries and provide recommendations for the perfect e-bike adventure.

Book Your E-Bike Adventure Today

Are you ready to embrace the thrill of e-biking in Dunedin, Florida? Booking your e-bike adventure with Paradise Life is quick and easy, just visit us at Paradise Life E-Bikes

#e-bike rentals florida #e-bike rentals dunedin florida #ebikeadventures #e-bike rentals dunedin fl #e-bike tours and rentals dunedin fl #dunedin fl e-bike rentals #dunedin e-bike rentals #e-bike rentals dunedin #dunedin florida e-bike rental

[closhelby]

HER. - Thomas Shelby

Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: it’s peaky blinders, with smut

Word Count: 2472

AN: this is my first time writing smut, please give me any tips pls, it’s appreciate. It’s probably shite.

::::::

She always was on his mind. The woman, that always read between the lines, always two steps ahead of him, and had an incredible eye for business. She had left him years prior, leaving for a top business school in London. they never had a title, a label on their relationship, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that they always, somehow, gravitated back to one another. Often people, especially Polly, would say that there was no way two people would be so alike, strong headed but only rarely clashed. 

However y/n’s degree had finished and she was coming back to Small Heath for a period of time before she was going to figure out what exactly what she wanted to do. Y/n was actually great friends with the Shelby family, since growing up with them, living just down the road, they practically lived together. Y/n was actually younger than Tommy, she was ages with Ada and John. They were in the same class throughout school, Ada and y/n regularly wrote to each other, updating each other on Ada’s eventful life as a Shelby still in Small Heath and y/n’s very exciting studying life in London. 

They had actually planned to meet up, for a nice and quiet drink at the Garrison on her return. The thoughts swirled in y/n’s mind as she approached the Garrison, it had just gone 6pm, and she knew as it was a Friday, she did have a possibly of bumping into her first, arguably her only love.  Pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, she pushed open the door to see a fairly crowded Garrison. 

“Ah, y/n, how was London?” Harry shouted, from behind the bar. Y/n smiled at him, walking over to Ada sitting in the back corner. “It was good Harry, nice to be back in this clear Birmingham air”. He chuckled slightly, “Whiskey coming up love”. 

Y/n nodded, taking a seat next to Ada, giving her a cuddle, “Unsure if ive missed this place or not” y/n laughed slightly, eyes scanning the pub, looking for the one man she questioned if she did want to bump into. The pair was throwing back drinks like it was going out of fashion, knowing they would both regret this in the morning. Apparently, Ada wasn't allowing y/n to go back home, and in fact y/n didn't have a home yet and wasn't willing to go back to her parents, so Ada was insisting that she stayed at hers until y/n found a suitable place. Y/n didnt put up a fight, despite them both being hot heads, and taking absolutely no shit from anyone, men or woman, y/n didn't argue. She was actually really thankful for her. 

They eventually stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, their laughs echoing throughout the silent house. 

::::

The sun caught y/n directly in the eyes, quickly awoke y/n from her sleep. Her head felt as though someone had been hitting her head against the floor multiple times. Y/n continued to lay there, turning away from the sun, trying to keep the contents of her stomach from getting sprayed all over her and the sleeping Ada. She made an attempt at moving, sat with her head in her hands as she was trying to give herself words of encouragement to get up and make herself something to eat. 

“Fuck sake, why do we do this to ourselves?” Ada moaned from behind her. Y/n scoffed, “ Your bloody idea”.

Quickly standing up, in hope she could get it over with quickly. The room continuing to spin, as she attempted to walk to the door. Ada following closely behind. 

They both sat slumped over the dining room table, as they attempted to sober up and embrace the oncoming hangover. John now present, laughing at the two dying woman in front of him. 

“Good night?”

“Always.” Ada grumbled.

Pol placed a plate in front of them, toast with jam, “Does Tommy know your back? 

Eyes falling onto y/n from every person in their, “No.” answering quietly. 

Attempting to change the subject, “Told myself I would start looking for a new job today, since I shall be staying here for a decent period of time.”

John raised his eyebrow, “Tommy’s looking for a new secretary.” A slight smile on his face, “You've got a good background, business and that”.

“hm, I don't think so Johny boy”.    

“Don’t say no too soon, your a good asset to the business.” Pol added. No one was ever in y/n’s corner more than Pol, they would bang heads sometimes, as neither of them would back down. But she accepted y/n was the only one that had the best interest for Tommy.

The front door closed, and there he stood, the room turning to face Tommy, silence filling the room, then he broke it, “Heard you were back.”

“Yeah,” she replied quietly.

“Well, you know where I am if you need that job, I’m sure you’ve already been told,” he spoke, cigarette hanging from his mouth, as he walked away from them and into his office.

Y/n let out a breath, as though she hadn’t been breathing the whole time he was there. Ada smiled at her, placing her hand onto y/n’s, “I’m just going to get ready for the day love,” and off she went upstairs. The boys getting on with their day, and Pol following suit.

Y/n sat collecting her thoughts while trying to tell herself to face her ex lover, who she was still so deeply in love with. She tapped on the door slightly, opening it before opening it, “hi”, seeing his eyes flutter onto her shot tingles throughout her body, his eyes quickly looking away

“You can start tomorrow if you wish, I need a few papers signed and sent tomorrow. I can get your contract drawn up tonight.” He spoke, his eyes still not lifting from the paper in front of him.

“Yes, that’s fine 8am?”

“8.45, shop doesn’t open until 9. And there are others to set it up, that’s not your job.”

Nodding, “I heard you have a new woman.”

At this point he did look up at her, “I heard you had plenty men in London,”

She laughed slightly, nodding before heading to the door, “none were ever a patch on you,” closing the door, leaving a smirk on Thomas Shelbys face.

The following day came around, as y/n got ready for the day. Putting on a formal black tightly fitted dress, flats and pin curled hair. A slight tint of red lippy, remembering it used to be Tom’s favourite. Assuming Tommy wouldn’t be at the shop at this time, she took a whiskey with her placing it on the desk infront of Tommy’s office. The place was silent, despite there being other employees now starting to arrive, something calming about the place, almost the calm before the storm, she thought.

The hour was now around ten thirty, and there was still no sign of Tommy. She had already finished the papers he had left for her on her desk. It wasn’t the usual small Heath lady, she was educated, and to a very high level. y/n was sat twiddling her thumbs, awaiting Tommy’s arrival to get other things done.

“Y/n. My office please,” his voice low, as he stood behind her. She stood up quickly, following him into the private room.

“There’s your contract, if you wish to have a read over it. I see you’ve finished the work I gave given you for the day.”

Y/n took the contract into her hands, scanning for any mistakes or anything to question. But he actually was paying her nearly double the rate of other staff, and just over that the London rate was, “you’ve done your research eh. More than London rates, impressive. The peaky’s are stepping up in the world” Y/n smiled at him, as she placed the documents on the desk, picking up his pen, and signing it. Y/n Y/l/n. Followed with today’s date. That was now it, she was a Shelby Co Ltd employee.

...

The days turned into weeks, spending time with tommy while no one else was looking was becoming a regular thing. She now had her own place, just doors down from the shop. He would regularly call her into the office, and discuss things that he would usually never utter a word about. It had always been that way with them, since they were little, he would confine in her, telling her all the issue and problems he was facing, both in his mind and with others. But it was also coming to her attention that he was still seeing Grace.

Later on in the day, the clock chimes 11pm, as y/n sat listening to the music that takes her back to a child, while sipping a whiskey. The knock of her front door bringing her out of her daydream, she picked up her handgun that she kept on her at all times. Growing up with The Shelby’s, she had to protect herself in someway. She kept it behind her, out of view for anyone who was in front of her, slowly creeping up to answer the door. She swung it open, gun clocked and pointed directly in the face of Thomas Shelby. Not wasted, but defiantly had a few.

“Ah, can never change a Shelby girl eh” He spoke, laughing slightly as she lowered the gun and he stepped inside. 

“Although, I’ve never been a Shelby girl, have I Tom?”

“Depends who you ask.”

She sighed, stepping in to the fire lit living room, “Drink?”

He nodded in response, and y/n began to pour him a whiskey, topping up hers and handing a full glass over to him. “Why are you here?”

He stepped over to her, the closest they had been together since before she left for London. He placed a hand on her back, pulling her head into touch his, their foreheads touching. The sensation ran through her body like the first time they had ever touched. He placed his hand on around the back of her neck, pulling her into him, his lips crashing onto hers. Their tongues intertwining with each others as the kiss started to deepen.  Y/n reached for his jacket, pulling it off his back, before making her way on to unbuttoning his shirt. Tommy pulled the bottom of her nightdress up, y/n only allowing the kiss to be broken to allow it to come over her head. 

Their lips syncing with each other once again as tommy took his now unbuttoned shirt off, moving onto unbuckling his trousers revealing his already hard length. He began to push her back onto the couch, untangling her lace thongs from around her legs. His fingers trailing over her already wet pussy, “Do it” y/n whispered as she pulled his face back up to kiss hers. 

He didn't even wait as he shoved his length into her. Their bodies rocked in sync together, “Tommy...” Y/n moaned, her fingers trailing down his shirtless torso. The stars were starting to align, the room was warm, full of love. It felt as though it was five minutes but in reality it was around fifteen all in.

Their breath shortened as y/n’s back started to arch as she came close to climax, “cum for me”. He spoke, looking at her directly in the eyes as he rocked her world. The love, chemistry, love and lust, all so very present just as it was back how they were before. Both of them moaning in pleasure, as they both came at the same time. The deep breaths and steamy windows showing the passion that had just unfolded. 

::::::::::::::::::::

It was a Friday evening, a week following the night of sin that taken place between Tommy and Y/n. They had still had the talks in private in the office, and on another occasion she was fucked bent over his desk after closing time. Y/n wasn't one to hide her feelings, it would always be present on her face so when it came to facing Grace in the Garrison, it wasn't hard to tell how y/n’s feelings were over her.  

Pol chuckled softly, clocking the glare Grace was on the opposite end of, “If looks could kill” Ada joining in on the hilarity. 

“She would've been killed 8 times over” Y/n replied, turning back to face the women. Whiskey in hand. 

“Feelings still there for him then?” Ada asked. 

“No, I wouldnt say so” y/n lied. 

“Cant lie to a gypsy woman love” Pol laughed, y/n begining to laugh with her when the doors open to reveal Tommy and his two bothers. Tommy’s icy blue eyes scanning the room, a slight smile shooting over to Y/n before approching the bar where Grace was, where he stood there for a good twenty minutes chatting away to her. 

“I cant take this anymore.” y/n looked over to Ada, who was rising her eyebrow while taking a sip of her drink. She was fairly close to them, and y/n being y/n liked to have a slight stir up now and again. She stood up, smile showing on her face as Pol and Ada laughed, watching her approach them both. 

“So, hows your little fling going?” she spok loud enough that Pol, Ada, Arthur and John could hear her. 

“Y/n” Tommy warned. 

“Who are you?” Grace questioned. 

“Y/N,” she responded, leaning herself against the bar, “The woman he has fucked behind your back multiple times this week.”

Pol snorted, almost chocking on her drink, “ I fucking knew it. Gypsy senses never lie.” 

“To be honest with you Grace, you had absolutely no chance when Y/N came back” Ada added. 

At this point, Tommy had moved y/n away from the bar, into the small room, “what are you doing?”

“You cant take the piss out of me, fucking me but then fucking her thinking youll get away with it.” she was pissed, and he could see it in her face. They had never spoke on their feelings toward each other. Everyone knew that it was always each other but there was nothing that compared to them, they always seemed to go back.

“I have always loved you but you left to go to London, I had people follow you. I knew what you were up to so I assumed you would stay down there, I assumed you had moved on.” He spoke, almost showing vulnerability.

“Oh I know. I can remember faces Tom. I think you forget I can see right through you,” she seethed, through her teeth, “what are you going to do about this?”

Tommy cupped her face, pulling her into kiss her.

“I love you.” He mumbled, feeling her smile into their kiss.

“I love you Tom,”

#thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

[maxwell-grant]

Jumping off from my previous question/suggestion, might I please ask if there are any superheroes you think would make fine Pulp Villains and any Supervillains you think would make convincing Pulp Heroes?

I'm gonna go ahead and remark that I'd personally suggest to anyone who's trying to create pulp characters inspired by superheroes (which would be probably about 90% of you who may want to do that sort of thing) to flip the script around a little. As in, don't try to create pulp analogues to the Justice League/Avengers upfront, but play around with some of the lesser-known icons and filter those through your idea of what “pulp” means (which is gonna be quite different than my own or anyone else’s). 

I’m not gonna really mention characters I’ve already talked about before like Vandal Savage or Namor, instead I’ll pick new ones and see what can be highlighted about them.

Regarding “Superheroes who could make fine/convincing Pulp Villains”, even though he’s a character I've read basically nothing on, Martian Manhunter definitely leaped out to me as an obvious option. He’s a Sci-Fi Superman who takes the first half of the name to an extreme that borders on comical, except he’s not a square-jawed white man, he’s a 1.000 year old green alien from Mars with shapeshifting powers who can look as monstrous as the artist desires. He’s the product of an advanced civilization and genetic modification, and on top of the Flying Brick powerset and shapeshifting, he also has incredibly powerful and extensive telepathic abilities, he can become invisible, phaze through matter, use telekinesis and other weird abilities. A lot of pulp stories closer to sci-fi were based around the idea of taking one of these abilities and extrapolating horrific consequences for them, and J’onn has those by the dozens. He also has an extremely mundane weakness that would allow him to be beaten by Macready with a blowtorch if that’s where the story ended.

He was also a law enforcement officer from Mars who became a police detective and it’s even right there in his name, and again, I have never read anything he’s in (I should probably pick the Orlando mini), I know he’s for all intents and purposes a generally nice man who tends to job a lot in crossovers and cartoons, but the idea of taking all those great vast and horrifying alien powers, combining all of them into a single character who also happens to be the last survivor of a doomed planet (and one who actually lived through it’s collapse), and then making that character a former cop trying to resume his work on Earth? 

That is a Pulp Supervillain begging to happen, and a particularly horrifying one at that. And hey, speaking of The Thing-

Now, Plastic Man’s potential for horror has already been explored quite a bit in some of the darker DC continuities like Injustice and DCeased, and it’s quite funny seeing a lot of these turn Plastic Man into The Thing because there were quite a handful of Wold Newton pages that ran with the idea that Macready from the original story was Doc Savage, and that the secret chemicals that Eel O’Brian was hit by that gave him his powers were actually samples of The Thing contained in one of Savage’s labs. Regardless, the idea of a former street crook suddenly gaining bizarre shapeshifting abilities that allow him to reign terror on his gangster associates could make for a great premise as a pulp crime story that veers into horror as the gangsters gradually figure out what is Eel O’Brian’s deal, and then the story can take a more tragic turn.

The thing about Jack Cole’s Plastic Man that modern takes on the character neglect is that, while Plas was a lively roguish anti-hero (arguably the first of it’s kind in comics), he’s still for intents and purposes “the straight man” (HA, right, Plastic Man being “straight”). He’s the relatively sane hero who plays off Woozy’s wackier misadventures and the imaginative madness that Jack Cole paints his adventures with, and it makes for an interesting contrast considering Plastic Man is already a weird character, having to ramp up the strangeness of the world around him so that he still remains the sane man. There are ways to twist this into something quite horrifying, even tragic for Plastic Man as he either struggles to maintain coherency, or embraces the shifting chaos the world’s spiraling into for better or worse (and definitely for the worse towards those on the receiving end of his vengeance, or even his humor).

Now, onto the flipside, regarding Supervillains that could become Pulp Heroes -

Normally I’d not mention the Batman villains here, because I already have a lot to talk about in regards to them as is, they comprise some of my favorite comic characters, but I pretty much have to make an exception for Two-Face in this topic, as not only a pretty obvious option but one with even case studies to prove it, as not only do we have The Black Bat, a 1930s costumed pulp hero with an identical origin story and several other conceptual overlaps with Batman, as well as The Whisperer, a young hotshot police commissioner who dresses up as a disfigured vigilante to kill criminals without consequence (and who’s somehow less of a maniacal asshole in his secret identity than in his regular one), but it turns out that there actually was a 1910s pulp hero called The Two-Faced Man:

Crewe was created by “Varick Vanardy,” the pseudonym of Frederic van Rensselaer Dey (Nick Carter, Doctor Quartz), and appeared in three short stories and two novels and short story collections from 1914 to 1919, beginning with “That Man Crew” (The Cavalier, Jan. 24, 1914). 

Crewe is “The Two-Faced Man.” 

He is in his forties and has gray hair and a “sharply cut and handsome profile—until one caught a view of the other side of his face and saw the almost hideous blemish that nearly covered it, and which graduated in corrugated irregularity from a delicate pink to repulsive purple.” 

Crewe is two-faced in another way. Crewe is a saloon owner in below Washington Square. But he has another identity: Birge Moreau, portraitist and socialite hanger-on. Crewe uses both his identities to solve crimes as an amateur detective.

The only person to know about both of Crewe’s identities is a police inspector who is also Crewe’s friend and who Crewe helps in pressing cases - The Encyclopedia of Pulp Heores by Jess Nevins

And speaking of obvious picks for Supervillains turned Pulp Heroes,

Assuming I even need to make a case for Kraven the Hunter other than just presenting this cropped panel from Squirrel Girl and in particular the art painted on the Kra-Van, or even just telling you to read Squirrel Girl and it’s take on “The Unhuntable Sergei” (I had no idea most of the people saying “Kraven’s arc in Squirrel Girl is as good if not better than Kraven’s Last Hunt” weren’t actually joking in the slightest and I speak as someone who has Kraven among their absolute favorite Marvel characters, it had no right being that good), I’m going to quote the brilliant Rogue’s Review from The Mindless Ones that lays down in painstaking detail why Kraven could make a killer protagonist in that horrifically over-the-top pulp fashion

One thing that strikes me writing this, is how well Kraven could hold his own comic. There’s always room for a book spotlighting a ruthless, hardcore, gentleman bastard, and Kraven’s raison d’etre makes him supremely versatile, so well suited to any genre, any environment. It’s odd that more writers haven’t jumped on the fact that in a universe where off-world travel is possible – indeed, common – a hunter like Kraven would have a field day. 

I can just imagine the opening scene – herds of weird cthuloid bat creatures grazing in the gloomy green nitrogen fields, bathed in lethal, bone splintering fog, when, suddenly, LIGHT! from above and an unholy bellowing: “CTHGRGN fthgrgnARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGN!”

They look up in fear and then they start to run – ploughing into and over each other, tentacles flailing, as from the space-ship’s docking bay Kraven silently plummets, barely dressed for the cold, a glowing knife smothered in elder signs jammed between his teeth. 

You should have seen him one night previous, sipping alien tokay around the Captain’s table with the other guests, discussing the morning’s hunt; and the way he insulted the Skrull dignitary by forgetting himself and accidentally sporting his favourite piece of formal wear: his boiling unstable dinner-jacket of many colours, fashioned from the hide of one of the Ambassador’s super kinsmen.

Whoops!

Midway through Kraven explaining how the best way to irreparably damage a symbiote is to wait until its bonded with you and then seriously maim yourself, the Skrull decided it might be a good idea to simmer down, while his beautiful Inhuman lover hung on every word.

The deeper I get into this the more convinced I am that the MU’s hunter-killer extraordinaire wouldn’t limit himself to bloody planet Earth. And neither would he limit himself to this dimension, or universe or timeline. The guy’d be just as at home leaping, sword raised, onto the back of a T-Rex in the Savage Land, as he would be ploughing through werewolves in the graveyards of Arkham or tracking a howling Demon across Mephistopheles’ realm. 

He’d work perfectly in all these environments because he has a damn good reason to be casting a bloody swathe through them: wherever there’s big game, you’ll find Kraven.

The next choice I guess is an oddball, but not that much of an oddball if you know already what is my main frame of reference towards Marvel

I don’t think people appreciate enough that the main reason Shuma-Gorath has anything resembling a fanbase has nothing whatsoever to do with the comics he was in, but entirely because, when Capcom designers had a list of Marvel characters to pick from to work on Marvel Super Heroes, they took a look at the diet Cthulhu and went “gimme THAT one”, and then went all-in in giving the alien squid monster a funky personality along with a great stage and music and animations and all that great fighting game character stuff, and now he’s maybe the most popular Dr Strange villain along with Dormammu and Mordo, despite having ZERO film appearences or major showings in comic sagas.

Capcom's designers redefined Shuma-Gorath from a nebulous cosmic evil into a comically smug cartoon bastard who can rant about devouring all dimensions and souls horrifically while also cracking poses and zingers like “How do you expect to win a fight with only two arms?” and having dinners with Dhalsim or hosting Japanese game shows in his endings, and it kills me that none of this ever made it’s way into any depictions of the character outside of MvC. 

So that’s kinda what I’d go with. I’d take Capcom’s Shuma-Gorath, depower him a bit obviously from his canonical power, and run with the premise of his MvC3 ending where he decides that, well, if he's the unlikely savior of this pathetic planet and these wretched human dogs like him so much, and he’s clearly having a much better time here among them than he ever had drifting among the stars cealessly consuming life, then maybe he can take a break from all that eldritch business and keep up hosting the Super Monster Awesome Hour and maybe fight whatever PITIFUL villains think can take HIS planet. I mean, he’ll probably still end up destroying the planet by the end, but why not give this hero business a try?

Just until he gets his full powers back of course. 

I mean you can’t deny he DOES look pretty good in that bowtie, surely The Great Shuma-Gorath wouldn’t be so unmerciful as to deny these vile wastes of flesh something good to look at in their brief and miserable lives.

#replies tag #marvel comics #marvel #dc comics #dc #pulp heroes #pulp villains #martian manhunter #plastic man #kraven the hunter #two-face #shuma-gorath #marvel vs capcom

[semischarmed]

Chrysalis, Part 2

“Yeah... Steph broke up with me.” I say to him, trying to bring some of the old Kyle’s feelings out to show some semblance of distress but there is nothing to bring out. Instead, I cannot help but go from a fake pout to a giggle. It obviously reads a bit creepy, but Red takes the awkward situation well, nervously laughing to match my giggling before giving a sympathetic grimace. “Oh man, I’m real sorry about that bro, I know you two were super close. Fuck Steph. Maybe we can hang out or do whatever dude, just kind of get your mind off things” he states, as he reaches for a shoulder pat. I reciprocate by pulling him into a hug, much to his surprise, stating “Thanks man, for everything, I don’t think I can be alone right now”. And I never will be.

“Yeah man, anything you need, I’m here for you.” He warmly replies back, giving me a pat on the back. In our embrace, I take a whiff at his chest, remaking on his flavor. Woodsy, fresh cut grass, just a bit acrid and the smell of fresh rain. God he smelled good. I took another deep inhale, moaning imperceptibly before trying to slip inside him. Instead, I am met with disappoint at my inability to get inside my big bro. He pushes me back from my extended embrace with a slight crinkle in his nose, again treating the awkward situation in stride. “But uh, maybe take a shower first” he laughs. 

———

Richard Levi- or “Red” as he was better known- was my Big Bro at Sig Chi. Though, from Kyle’s old memories, it actually wasn’t until I met him a fourth time that I found out his name wasn’t really just “Red”. Apparently, the previous frat president was also a Richard and a less confusing name had to be chosen for the then-freshman. The frat had taken to calling him ‘Red’, on account of his fiery red hair and soon after, the entire school had caught on. Though it was mean-spirited at first, Red never seemed to have been bothered by it, and by the time I arrived, there had only been one “Red” in the frat. Beyond that, my body knew very little about his Big Bro. From these memories it was fairly obvious that he has been trying to connect with the old Kyle after they had been paired, though Kyle was relatively disconnected in their conversations. I’m not even sure why the old Kyle stuck around with all the frat stuff to be honest, since apparently this seemed to occur with all the other members of the frat. If anything, Kyle seemed to only open up around Steph. That is, until I became Kyle. The new Kyle was confident. He was attentive. He was social. In a sense, Me being him had allowed for ‘Kyle’ to be greater than the sum of his parts, we succeeded in areas where the other could not. Where Kyle was oblivious, I was not. Where I could not succeed socially in school, my newly confident self as his body could. In a sense, we completed each other through my possession of him. And I loved every moment of it.

I’ve been living through my forever host Kyle for a few weeks now and it has been nothing short of fantasy. From hanging out with my frat bros to getting hazed to winning a few more games. All of it was worth it. All of it made life feel like life. Even the mundane feels great in his shoes. Waking up, brushing my teeth, exercising. Just living. Knowing it was me inside, me in his skin, using his hands, walking his legs, breathing in his lungs. Ecstasy.

A few of his-well, my- friends noticed the new and improved Kyle. Friendlier, less reserved, smellier. That last bit might have been my fault. I love Kyle, all of him- and that included his musky, putrid odor which has only intensified since his possession. With me running the show, this meat-suit can’t help but respond in kind by rewarding my constant ecstasy in this body with a steady stream of its pheromones. It also probably didn’t help that I had a penchant for covering myself in my team’s scents and for avoiding any of his deodorant. In any case, I found it hot, I wanted people to know what this flesh of mine was. I was Alpha. I was living testosterone. Athlete. Me.

Still, I wanted to make sure I truly did have him forever. My old body had the ability to slip into others and ever since I had become Kyle, this new body has not been able to replicate the same feat. I speculated it was just a byproduct of my fairly recent acquisition but it’s been a few weeks now and I still haven’t had any indication that this body retains my old ability. Of course this came with the worrying thought that, despite all my preparation, all my effort, Kyle was still just a pile of flesh that my old body was just wearing temporarily. No. I can’t think in that way. This is me. I am Kyle.

So of course, I’ve been testing my old abilities in this body, trying with every hand shake, every shoulder hug, any physical connection with someone to get inside them. I’ve been fucking tons of cute guys on campus too, though no one in Sig Chi seems to have noticed. Either that or they had another reason to not bring it up- perhaps they were trying to avoid an awkward situation. In any case, despite all these attempts, I’ve had no such luck with my little possession crusade. At least, I hadn’t until last week. 

The last time I fucked Mark- some cute rando on the 8th floor of my dorm- I left a little of my cum inside him. In just that split second, I felt his mind and body open up to me, and I took advantage of that brief glimpse to jam just a bit of my arm inside. That was when I had my first epiphany. Of course. Me-in-Kyle was like a new body, not just me possessing him, so it only made sense that I had to rebuild my old abilities from scratch. Still, possession in this new Kyle body seemed to operate differently. Maybe it was the extra power from his vitality, but I definitely seemed to maintain the tiniest bit of residual control over Mark. Nothing too crazy, just very slightly influencing some of his decisions the following week like what he wore or making sure he didn’t tell a soul about the half possession. This had some application. My old body had been able to possess groups of people before, though it had some limited uses. For one, they had to be somewhat close to each other, and at some point, I could no longer maintain that state and my physical form had to reconvene, ending the session. This? This was different. Even now I can feel the traces of my control over Mark. Kyle’s sperm must be really fucking virile. Mixed with my latent ability for possession? We were potent.

Before I could ponder what I could do with this new power, I began to feel a bump in the back of this body. Cosmic correction perhaps? Whatever it was, I felt myself being separated from Kyle. From Me. At least, most of myself was overcome with an intense numbness akin to the separation after a possession. One of my arms remained tethered to him, preventing the force from removing me Kyle’s body fully. 

This, of course, chilled me to the bone. I didn’t just possess Kyle... I became him- if we were separated what would happen to each of us? For one, I embedded myself into him, became the crevices of his mind and self. Whatever would left over without me wouldn’t be Kyle or me, so much as it would just be a pile of living flesh. Likewise, what would become of me? The guy who no longer had a separate physical form from Kyle. I looked at my arms, quaking in fear at the events that had just transpired. What I did to me, to Kyle, truly was against the natural order of the universe. Was I on a ticking clock then? Doomed to one day disappear for my sin? I stared at my arms again. That was when I had my second epiphany. I smiled wickedly. So that’s how it was.

Chrysalis. That’s what I called my special little device, my glorified sleeping bag meant to catalyze the process of forever tethering me to Kyle. I have long since disposed of the thing, but it was clear I had need for another run of the Chrysalis. Or rather, a chrysalis. 

The second epiphany came in the arm that I had used to test possession through Mark, the arm that had kept me tethered to my true body, against the natural order. The second epiphany was that I was not complete. It was the need to balance the scales. A separate possession and container were need for me and Kyle to be one. Two became one. So, in much the same respect, what I needed was to balance the books. What I needed was to fully possess another as Kyle, thereby fulfilling the cosmic debt. “One” will stay as one through a process that fulfilled both my of requirements of container and possession. I need to possess someone. I need a human Chrysalis. And I knew just the guy. I immediately started masturbating. I’m gonna need a lot of cum.

So, that’s where I am right now. I’ve been hanging out with Red, nearly every day, making us closer, all the while slipping bits of my seed into him. I started out with just a bit in his water bottle during one of our gym sessions, when he wasn’t looking. God it was hot. I watched him choke a little too, when his mouth came across my wad of goo but nevertheless he downed it like a champ. He laughed the whole thing off but I could tell he was a bit disturbed by whatever was in his bottle. I was able to will him to hug me a half second longer than usual. 

Another time, I baked some nice cookies with a bit of me-juice in them. He found them delicious. I couldn’t help but moan a little when he first bit into it. He moaned too, before sheepishly stating “my bad bro, these are just some really fucking good cookies.” I played along, giving him a “Aww thanks man. Made these special, just for you”. He willfully ignored my wink after.

Half a week ago, I slipped a bit in his shampoo bottle. That was pretty kinky, until I realized he had just washed it all off. So yesterday, I put a big extra batch in his sandwich when he wasn’t looking. That one was apparently extra potent. He took his first bite- big, messy- getting a dribbling of  “Mayo” over his beard. Instinctively, he motioned to wipe it off with a napkin, but stopped him. He watched me quizzically, as I began to scoop the mayo sucking on the little extra I got on my index finger before stuffing the rest in his mouth. “The fuck? Dude...” he chuckled gently as I felt both heat and tension increase. He was huffing, entranced, taking moist, shallow breaths as I tug on his beard, pulling his head closer to mine. “You need a bit more” I whispered, as I began to unbuckle my jeans. Red snapped out of it, pushing me away, whispering “wait... what the fuck man, what was that?” For a few brief moments, we just sat there in awkward silence. He glared at me, before closing his eyes and taking a deep sigh. “Uh, look, I... won’t tell anyone at the frat. ok? Just... don’t ever do that again. Anyways, I don’t even swing... well... Besides-“ he chuckled, returning to his normal self and tousling my hair “You’re my little bro. That’s, kinda... like... incest, you know?”

This one’s a fighter. By now, there’s gotta be a pint’s worth of my cum swimming inside him. Whenever he hangs out with me, I throw a little here and there. A quick squirt here, some extra cream in his coffee there, maybe a little extra icing on that cake. I make sure the parts of me inside him wriggle inside, get him extra hard, slam his brain with some extra dopamine around my scent. By all accounts he should be squirming in ecstasy when I’m around. But Red... he’s a cut above the rest. No matter what I do, he seems to just shrug it off. The most I’ve ever seen was maybe a gaze linger half a second too long.

It’s been a few days of this and I already feel the slightest dull sensation in my body. The universe trying to correct itself. Still, I have faith in my plans. He’s almost ready, I think. And if he isn’t ready, I’ll make him ready. I want this day to be special. The day I become Red and the day I truly become Kyle. 

—End Part 2—

Next one should be up relatively soon...

#male possession

[mf-despair-queen]

Partners in Crime - Lee Taeyong

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Lee Taeyong/Reader - Mafia AU

Word Count: 17,864

Summary: Y/N meets the man of her dreams one day randomly on the street. Little does she know - he is the boss of a mafia in town. But does she care? No. They were partners in life - and partners in crime. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, I am too lazy to put more to this. 

Notes: April Fools - I’m actually posting! I’ve only had this sitting in my drafts completed for over 3 months. Be warned - I didn’t really proofread this. But it’s fine. everything is fine! Enjoy! 

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

“Excuse me!” The young man called, though his calls went unnoticed. Heavy footsteps fell along the concrete as he attempted to catch your retreating figure, clutching the book you dropped while rapidly making your way down the road. When he finally caught up and tapped your shoulder to get your attention, he understood why you ignored his calls. 

With a jump in shock, you turned to the red haired man in awe. Earbuds were tucked deep in your ears, soothing jams filling your mind as you moved. Time stood still when your eyes met his deep brown ones, your heart jumping slightly. Before you stood a handsome man, mid-twenties if you had to guess, with sweet, angelic eyes, fluffy hair draping across his forehead and shielding the small slit in his eyebrow, and the sharpest jaw you had ever encountered. 

He wore a simple red wool shirt that hugged his neck and lean torso, a thin black hoodie and a puffed gray vest that was decorated in red designs. Black jeans hugged his slim waist, a black belt wrapped through the looks, and black vans covered the white socks on his feet. Three sparkling earrings dangled from his left ear, a ring adorning his left helix and one single stud rounded out his jewelry. 

Realizing that all you were doing was staring, the man awkwardly smiling and uttering mumbled words through your music, you tugged the earbuds out. “I’m sorry about that,” you whispered sheepishly. “Music.”

“I get it,” he chuckled deeply. His voice was smooth and sweet, the underlying rasp making your heart jump a second time. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I saw you drop this earlier.”

He extended the book towards you, your eyes widening at his gesture. Carefully, you took the book from him, glancing into your small bag to find it empty. “Oh my god. I didn’t even realize it fell out. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem at all,” he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “It’s the least I could do to help a beautiful girl.”

A blush spread along your cheeks, a shy smile growing on your lips. Tucking the book safely back into your bag, you glanced at the handsome man. “Well, can I know the name of the lovely gentleman that returned my book and made my trip to the cafe to read not in vain?”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. “I’m Taeyong.”

You took his hand, finding it warm and soft. “Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N.”

“Same,” you chimed. “Well Taeyong, how can I ever repay you for this?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” he started to say, sealing his lips when you shook your head.

“Please, I insist! I really appreciate what you did. I would have lost it in the middle of the cafe if I found I lost this book. It’s my favorite and it was a gift from my sister,” you confided. “I want to repay you somehow. Please?”

“Well,” he started, rubbing his lips together. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a cheshire-like smirk. “You could let me buy you a coffee.”

You giggled at his suggestion, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I’d like that, but only on one condition.”

“Oh?”

“You join me for said coffee?”

Taeyong chuckled, nodding happily. “I’d love that.”

A smile grew on your face, butterflies fluttering rampantly inside your stomach. You could feel a small blush spreading across your cheeks as your looked up at the handsome man. “Great. Shall we get going?”

Taeyong smiled back, his glowing smile infectious. “Lead the way, beautiful,” he uttered. You nodded, turning on your heel and leading him towards your original destination - Haru & Oneday - with Taeyong at your side. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets as you walked, a happy hum coming from the man. “So, tell me about yourself.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s a deep conversation. I hope you know that.”

“I have time.”

A skip inside your chest, a knot of excitement in your gut, a flash of heat across your face despite the chilled weather of December.

“Well…”

The entire afternoon was spent talking, tucked into a small corner of the cafe. The second you arrived, Taeyong asked what you wanted. While he ordered your coffee, you picked a secluded place to talk, knowing the book you planned to read that day would go untouched. You were more interested in the mysterious man that captivated you on the street, kindly returning your lost item. 

And learn about him you did. He was a kind soul, living in the same building as a bunch of friends that he worked with in business. He enjoyed singing and dancing in his free time, spitting a rap that made you laugh and clap in excitement. He liked to cook, but you figured out that he had a massive sweet tooth more than anything from the way he devoured a whole slice of chocolate cake by himself. The smile that lit up his face as he ate the decadent treat made you smile happily. 

You told him your story - where you were from, growing up in Busan, your love for cooking and reading. You even told him about the boring desk job you worked to pay for the small apartment you had. You lived an ordinary, boring life in your opinion, but Taeyong listened intently, taking interest in the little things that made you happy. 

Just as the sun was setting and his phone was ringing, presumably from his friends asking where he had disappeared to, did you agree to wrap up for the day. Taeyong slipped from his seat first, but not before sliding a folded napkin in your direction. 

“I enjoyed spending the day together, Y/N,” he mused, pocketing his hands. “I’m glad I was able to meet you today. It really made my day better. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

He waved before walking off, leaving you to gather your stuff. Just as you were finishing, you glanced at the napkin he left. Your stomach flipped and your heart raced, finding his phone number written on the paper, a cute doodle of himself, and the simple words of Call me? printed underneath. Tucking the napkin in your bag, you left the cafe, thanking the owners on your way out.

It was dark by the time you arrived home, closing the front door with a soft click of the lock. Your shoes were left forgotten in the doorway, headed straight for a shower to wash away the day’ odor. Finishing your nightly routine, you returned to the bag you left on your bed, sitting on the plush mattress. Your fingers tugged out the napkin, your lip tugged between your teeth as you contemplated shortly.

Your fingers moved without much though, grabbing your phone and typing the number into a new contact. The message you sent him was simple.

To: Taeyongie - Hey. This is Y/N. I just wanted to thank you again for today. It was great meeting you and getting to know you. I hope we can do it again sometime. 

His response didn’t take long.

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad you messaged me. I was worried for a bit that I wouldn’t get to hear from you again. 

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad I got to meet you too. You really brightened up my day, so for that, I have to say thank you.

From: Taeyongie - I can’t wait to see you again.

Your heart was aflutter, sinking into your bed and rereading the message a few times. You were glad you decided to brave the cold and travel to your favorite cafe, even if you hadn’t intended to almost lose your book and meet a gorgeous gentleman that seemed to steal your heart from under your nose already. After many failed relationships through school and early adulthood, you didn’t think you’d find someone like him that would sweep you off your feet so easily. 

When your phone buzzed again, making you jump slightly in shock, you reread his last message three times before your eyes grew wide.

From: Taeyongie - Though next time, I hope you’ll allow me to take you out for a proper first date.

Your fingers shook as you tried to type a coherent response, 

To: Taeyongie - I’m looking forward to it.

He really was one of a kind.

~

Nearly four months after meeting Taeyong, you were head over heels for the man. You talked to him daily, waking up to sweet messages wishing you a good day and falling asleep to messages bidding you sweet dreams. You had learned much about the man, finding yourself falling deep into the abyss of his chocolate colored eyes. You were wrapped around his finger, though not in a bad sense. He had stolen your heart, and you were willing to let him keep it.

Every other week, you found yourself going out with the man when you weren’t at your house together. When you chose to stay in, you would be wrapped up on your couch or in your bed watching movies while his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, or the tips of his fingers ghostling along your arms. You’d make dinner together, play games together, and even go out to walk Ruby together when he brought the small dog over for your amusement. You’d occasionally find yourself dancing together around the house, singing whatever song he decided to play for you, but you never once hated these moments. They were some of your favorites.

But he would insist on taking you out to dinner, treating you kindly to a romantic date that consisted of expensive dinners or trips to random places - the arcade and the beach being recurring destinations. He’d never let you pay, sometimes making you wonder how he could afford the expensive meals - he never did clarify what his job was - but you wouldn’t decline the dates if it meant you could see him. After the second date, he would always tentatively kiss you goodnight, the connect short and sweet, leaving you craving more. You never shared more than that - though you wished you did.

Tonight was one of those nights. Taeyong had sent you a sweet morning greeting, telling you that he was going to take you out for dinner that night. He didn’t specify where - only to dress elegantly, finishing with a cheesy remark that you always looked fabulous. He planned to pick you up at six sharp, leaving you the rest of the day to clean around the house and prepare for your fancy date. 

At five, you jumped in a shower, dressing in a lacy set of red lingerie before doing your hair and make up. You picked a sleek black dress from your closet - an expensive present you had gotten from your family one year but never found reason to wear - that would accentuate your curves, but not flaunt you in a promiscuous way. The skirt flared out against your thighs and the top hugged your chest, not being too showy around your cleavage. You wanted to impress the man, not make it seem like a slut. You finished with a pair of low heels and minimal jewelry consisting of earrings and a necklace Taeyong insisted he buy you on your third date.

Exactly at six, he was knocking on your door, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands. He smiled brightly, tilting his head cutely in greeting. The silver earrings swung with the movement, a few loose strands from his slicked back hair flopping loose. He wore a red and black checkered jacket over a black and white checkered button up shirt, tight black jeans with rips in the knees hugging his lean waist. 

“Hey beautiful,” he greeted, extending the flowers towards you. “These are for you.”

“You know you didn’t have to, Tae,” you giggled, taking the flowers from him and relishing in the delicate aroma they offered. “But they are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I know I didn’t have to but they always make you smile,” he mused with a smile. He watched you rush to put the flowers in a vase before grabbing your purse, locking the door on your way out. His arms wrapped around you, hanging loosely at your side as he stared down at your smiling face. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you murmured with a light blush, running your hands up his arms, resting on his biceps. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Not that it’s hard for you with your face.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughed, taking your hand. “Shall we get going? Dinner awaits.”

“Lead the way.”

He led you to a car - which was rare - that took you to your mysterious location. The tall man in the driver’s seat introduced himself as Johnny, giving you both a smile before driving off. Turned out the man was one of Taeyong’s friends that he had told you briefly about before, and he had kindly offered to drive you both seeing as Taeyong didn’t have a license himself. Johnny kept to himself, allowing you to talk freely with Taeyong, the red haired man flirting carelessly the entire time.

You arrived at a tall building, Taeyong chuckling at the confused look on your face when Johnny parked the car and opened Taeyong’s door for him. Taeyong held out a hand to help you from the vehicle, thanking Johnny for the ride. The tall man simply pat his friend on the back and gave him a wink before returning to the car and driving off. Your hand slid back into Taeyong’s as he led you to the doors of the building, the doorman nodding.

“Good evening, Mr. Lee.”

The interaction with the doorman and Taeyong further confused you. This was different than your normal dinner dates where you always had a private room or balcony in the restaurants, servers catering to your every need. He wasn’t leading you into a high class restaurant where he could bypass the line and walk straight to a table without question. You were in a pristine lobby with a fountain and couches, a giant chandelier above your head. 

He led you to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, snickering at your confusion. He didn’t bother to clarify what was going on. He simply ran his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to the music play above you. When the elevator dinged that you were at the top floor, the man led you out wordlessly, digging into his pocket for a set of keys for the door at the end of the hall.

“Where are we?” you finally questioned, watching him unlock the door. 

Taeyong hummed while pushing the door open, allowing you to walk in first. He witnessed you gawking at your new surroundings, the elegant living room of the penthouse you found yourself in leaving you flabbergasted. “Welcome home,” he chimed, shutting the door.

“This is where you live?” you asked, turning to the man. In the time you knew him, he had never once talked about where he lived. You had never seen his house, always spending time together in your tiny, cozy apartment. Now, you were staring at the large living room with multiple plush couches, art lining the walls, and a large kitchen and dining room in the distance. The table was decorated with candles and place settings, a bottle of wine being chilled in a bucket.

“Is it too much?” he asked, pouting slightly. 

“You just never mentioned you live in a penthouse!” you scolded, shoving him lightly before wrapping your arms around him. “But this is breathtaking.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered. “I figured that today is our fifth date, not counting our little cafe rendezvous when we first met, so what better date night than for me to make you dinner in my own home.”

“You’re making dinner?” you chirped, gleefully bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I love your cooking so much.”

“Well, go ahead and get comfortable and I will get cooking.”

You nodded, watching him make his way into the kitchen. He poured you a glass of wine before he started cooking, watching you sink into one of the couches to watch him. He caught you occasionally looking around to take in the impressive surroundings, laughing to himself. He told you that his friends lived in their own apartments in the lower floors, leaving you to wonder what exactly they did to afford this. You didn’t know his exact line of work - he always just said business - but he was obviously successful enough to afford the penthouse of the building.

Taeyong beckoned you over when food was ready, pulling out your chair for you. He poured you more wine before serving you a piping hot bowl of bibimbap. Taking his place beside you with his own glass and bowl, he tilted his glass towards you. “To the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You giggled, flushing brightly and tilting your glass to his. With a clink of cups, you responded, “to the most handsome man in the world.”

The meal was delicious, melting on your tongue. You made small talk as you ate, enjoying Taeyong’s giddy nature from drinking. The man couldn’t hold his alcohol at all, and one sip left him red faced and giggly. You helped him with dishes when you were finished, even though he protested it vehemently, finding yourselves flicking water at each other and blowing bubbles into the air.

You curled up on the couch together for a while before he would have to take you home, Your head on his chest and his fingers running through your hair. The silence was welcoming, the sound of his erratic heartbeat all you needed for comfort. He would sometimes hum a song for you, but mostly you just relaxed in his grasp. It was times like this that you enjoyed the most - being with him made you feel content. 

In your entire life, you never cared for someone as much as you did the red haired man before you. Never in your life did you like someone as much as you did Taeyong. He made you feel loved and cherished. He made you feel beautiful and wanted. 

You wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.

You frowned when he suggested it was time to take you home. Instead of calling Johnny to drive you back, you opted for a late night walk so Taeyong could sober himself up, treating yourselves to some crepes on the way. You walked hand in hand the entire way, the sway between you both making your heart jump in your chest. 

Arriving at your apartment, you sighed under your breath, turning to look at the man. “Thank you for tonight,” you told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I enjoyed our date. I think this was my favorite date so far.”

“Well, there’s more of these to come,” he chuckled, tugging his lip between his teeth. He stared at you silently, moving his free hand up to your face. His fingers curled against your cheek, smoothing across your skin as you sank into his touch. “Y/N…”

“I should probably go inside-”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, tugging you into him. Your hand was dropped so he could cup your face in both hands, putting everything he could into the connection. The shock from the initial kiss wore off, your eyes fluttering closed and returning his kiss. It was deeper than any kiss you shared before. His head was tilted and your lips meshed together perfectly. Your hands gripped at his jacket, pushing up into him as much as possible. 

The world around you stopped. It was just you both in that moment, sharing the most amazing kiss you had ever dreamt of. This was what you wanted, this was what you had waited for. The way his lips dragged against yours as he smothered you with his lips left you eager for more. The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours left you gasping for precious air, yet a desire to return your lips to his.

“Be my girlfriend,” he rasped deeply against your lips. 

All you could do was nod in return before he was kissing you again, dropping his hands to your waist to tug you closer. Your hands moved up and around his neck, tangling into his hair, pulling him deeper into you. The kiss intensified, lips speeding up and parting for an entourage of open-mouth kisses to start. Your bodies were flush against one another, heat spreading along your limbs.

The moment was broken from the ring of his phone, the red-haired man pulled back with a scowl. He kept you against him as he fished the phone from his pocket, reading the message he had received. Low strings of curses left his mouth before dropping the phone back into his pants, tilting your head to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Something came up that I need to take care of.”

“Is everything ok?” you wondered, frowning at his for his reaction to the message.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine, I promise. Just some last minute work popped up that I need to help Mark with,” he tried to reassure you. Something was off about his tone, but you nodded at him anyway. He must have caught your uncertainty, pulling you into a light kiss. “I promise it’s nothing to worry about. Now, go inside and I will talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright, Taeyong,” you whispered, kissing him one last time before backing away to unlock your door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, blowing you a kiss as he backed away, turning on his heel and stampeding away. 

You watched his form vanish around the corner, tucking yourself into your apartment. Leaning against the door, you let your fingers run along your lips, smiling at the thought of your new boyfriend. The questions you had about his late night business venture were pushed aside for now as you chose to trust the man. You rushed to your room to prepare for sleep, enveloped in happy dreams of the red-haired man.

Outside your building, Taeyong stared up at your window for a moment before a black car pulled up. He quietly filled the backseat, meeting eyes with Johnny and Mark. The blank tint of the windows kept the outside from seeing the gun passed to him by the young lad int he passenger seat, Taeyong checking the clip once over.

“How’d it go?” Johnny questioned cheekily.

“You know the rules,” Taeyong glowered. “Don’t touch my girlfriend and protect her from this shit.”

“What’s going to happen when she finds out?” Mark asked.

“Don’t worry about that. That’s my problem,” Taeyong hummed, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Focus on this deal for now. I can’t have you distracted if this goes south.”

“Yes sir,” both men spoke, the car going quiet as they advanced towards an abandoned warehouse where their deal was to take place. 

~

One year. 

One year since you started dating the love of your life. Six months in, you had been the one to say it first.

“I love you, Lee Taeyong.”

He didn’t hesitate to repeat the phrase multiple times while placing kiss after kiss to every inch of your face and neck before curling into you and cuddling you tightly. You didn’t regret saying it, especially after he responded the way he did, loving you just as much as you loved him. You knew you wanted to spend your life with this man; you knew he held your heart in the palm of his hand. But you were happier than you had ever been. This was the highest point in your life.

You started spending more time around Taeyong’s massive penthouse on your days off or after work, your routine with Taeyong nothing different than before. Everything just seemed to get better - especially as his friends started to migrate into your life as well. There were twenty boys living in the building that he worked with, but he had a group of eight others that were closest to the man and popped up most often. 

You had met Johnny before when he was your chauffeur for your date, so getting to know the tall American was different. He loved photography and fashion, sometimes spending his time with you on your days off by having mini fashion shows in Taeyong’s penthouse. Taeyong always had a good laugh when he walked in on your faux walking down a runway, planting himself on the couch to watch and take his own pictures.

Taeil was the oldest of the bunch, a quiet man that enjoyed singing with his friends Doyoung and Jungwoo. He was famous in the group for his dad jokes, becoming the butt of many jokes. He also had an equally bad alcohol tolerance to your boyfriend.

Doyoung was a snarky man that loved to pick on Taeyong, but you could tell he cared about him. He had rabbit-like qualities that you found adorable. When Taeyong was busy when you were around, Doyoung would make you delicious meals that left you in a food coma on the couch until Taeyong would return.

Jungwoo was a mischievous little brat, but you always found him to be funny. He whined childishly for attention and played around with the others. He craved long hugs that made Taeyong yell at him because he was taking his girlfriend from him. 

Jaehyun was your workout buddy. The fittest of the bunch, the man with deep dimples had offered to exercise with you when you complained you had gotten lazy in Taeyong’s house. You could never keep up with him or Johnny, who often joined you both in the gym, but having someone there to push you was worth it. 

Yuta had the most infectious smile. He would always play games with you and make you smile. But the thing you did most often was watch soccer together. The man loved the sport, having grown up playing in Japan, so watching games together was always exciting. He got so captivated by them that he wouldn’t realize he was jumping around wildly.

Haechan was a brat, but he was skilled in dances. He had this innate ability to watch a dance on tv and perform it. His time would be split between the main group of nine and the younger boys in the building. Even with his evil personality, you loved the young boy, happily failing by his side when you would dance together.

Mark was probably your favorite. He was the one around most often, caring for you when Taeyong was working. He had quickly grown to be like a little brother that supported you through everything. He told you about his life in Canada while you told him about your life in Korea, sharing the littlest things with each other. He would play the guitar for you in his spare time, often lulling you to sleep with the beautiful melodies.

You didn’t expect to meet such a rowdy bunch, but they made your relationship with Taeyong even sweeter. And though you still often had dates with Taeyong, you also spent a lot of time with the group on outings. Going out for meals or going around the city was more special with your hand clamped in Taeyong’s and the bundle of males running around you.

As much as you have enjoyed your one year anniversary alone with Taeyong on a romantic date, eating an expensive dinner that you knew Taeyong would insist you have and finishing the night together tangled in the sheets, you were glad you went with the current idea. When the group found out that it was your anniversary, they insisted on taking you both out for a good night.

What started with a fun meal of barbeque that they paid for completely, not a single cent paid by you or Taeyong, turned into a drunken mess at a nightclub. Hesitant at first, you barely took a shot or two of soju with the others. Taeyong was wrecked just from those couple shots, beginning to drink more and more. Watching him enjoy himself let you relax, beginning to down your own drinks.

The night slowly became a blur of flashing lights and loud music, but you knew Taeyong was always by your side. Either his hand was in yours or resting somewhere on your body - the small of your back, wrapped around your waist and hugging you to his side, and resting on your thigh as you sat at a booth, drinking and playing games together. 

You danced together, your body rolling against his. He was obviously more skilled than you were, but even in his shrunken state, he led you confidently and naturally, grinding against you eagerly. Your back pressed against his chest as his hands sat on your hips, fingers splayed against bare skin from where you shirt rode up. When you faced him, you arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his fluffy red threads. 

Hot kisses were left on your mouth, your lips left puffy and swollen from the multiple attacks he left on you. You were already warm from the club and the plethora of people around you, but your body was searing against his. Each taunting kiss he gave you, lips parted and tongue slipping into your mouth, left you craving more. Your hands wandering against his form, trailing up and down his arms, let him panting, the man tugging his lip between his teeth.

“We should get out of here…”

That’s all he had to mutter once for you to find yourself escaping the heat of the club and back in Taeyong’s penthouse. It was past midnight when you stumbled through the door together, your lips latched together in a sloppy kiss. Your arms were wrapped weakly around him, trying to kick off your shoes as you pushed into the doorway. Taeyong kicked the door shut with his foot, struggling to lock it and discord his sneakers before entering the house. He couldn’t focus with your lips connected to his, your tongues swirling together eagerly between your cheeks.

He picked you up with easy, a squeal of shock lost to his throat. His steps were uneven as he moved forward, supporting you with one hand on your ass, the other following the wall to guide him through the darkness. The kiss broke when he tripped over the rug and bumped into a table, a bruise bound to form on his knee. Low curses left his lips, the man rushing into the bedroom. 

The door slammed shut behind you, Taeyong turning to trap you against the sealed entryway. His lips found home once more on your own, igniting another fiery kiss between you. You happily returned it, tasting the vast amounts of alcohol that lingered on his taste buds. A subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips told you to part them and let him inside, which you willingly complied. The taste of the bitter liquid from the evening was heavy on his tongue as it roamed your cheeks.

Your moans were muffled, mind foggy in the midst of the kiss. It didn’t occur to you that his hands were traveling up your sides, pushing at the bottom of your shirt until it was resting underneath your breasts. The skim of the pads of his thumbs against your sides and ribs sent shivers up your spine, more mewls of delight lost to the sensual lip lock. Taeyong pushed harder against your, his hips rutting against your clothed core, both sets of jeans blocking what you truly desired in that moment. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, letting out a groan of his own.

The first time you separated, chests heaving for precious amounts of air, he uttered two short words. 

“May I?” 

You knew what he wanted, even in the blur of words that met your ears. You nodded at him, arching off the door long enough for him to rid you of your top, the cotton fabric strewn across the floor carelessly. Lips back to yours for a single second before disappearing south, searing hot kisses leaving a wet trail along your neck and clavicle. Your swollen lips parted with delicious moans for him to savor, trembling fingers lacing through his locks on the back of his head. 

His teeth toyed with the strap on your left shoulder first, playfully nipping at your skin in his futile attempts to drag the strap down your arm. Your mewls of delight mixed with short giggles before taking the opportunity to rid yourself of the pesky garment. Taeyong pouted without a doubt - he always hated when you did it for him - but didn’t bother to argue. 

His lips found home on your bare chest, lips wrapping around the pert nipple on your right breast. A content sigh left your mouth, back arching into his touch. Your hands twisted through his red strands, giving him a tug whenever he found a sensitive spot on your chest. You tried to watch him through the haze, but your eyes were blurring too much. 

Was it the alcohol still present, slowly wearing off? Or, was it the pleasure of him suckling at your nipples, giving them short tugs with his teeth, and pulling away with short pops that rang in your ears?

You didn’t know, nor did you care. You were in heaven.

Taeyong spent several long minutes pleasuring your chest, red marks lingering on the mounds and between them when he swaps between them on occasion. With each kiss he left, and each bite he left, his hands holding you up against the wall grabbed at your backside. His hips ground against yours, becoming more frequent and harder against your covered core. The bulge in his tight jeans was obvious, growing more prevelant by the second. His cock was stiff, and his actions just solidified what he wanted.

Placing you on unsteady legs, his nimble fingers made quick work of your pants, the man kneeling long enough to tug them down your legs. Your panties came with, leaving you naked before his eyes. The red head toppled slightly, nearly falling on his ass in his tipsy state. A mixture of the alcohol and his awe at your body left him speechless and wobbly, slowly standing while working at his own jeans.

Your hands were quick to replace his, struggling to undo the button of his dark skinny jeans. Taeyong had to place a hand on the wall to keep himself upright, his other hand massaging his face a few times before pushing his hair back. Low groans and swears escaped, staring down at you when you grew frustrated and collapsed to your knees, stumbling just as he had. 

“Dammit,” you growled, tugging angrily at the jeans when they wouldn’t unbutton. Taeyong chuckled deeply.

“Need a hand?”

“No. Fuck you. I can do it myself.”

The man let out a hefty chortle at your frustration, repaying you for what you did earlier. His fingers made quick work of his own jeans, the button unsnapping and zipper slowly lowered before your eyes. With a short huff, you tugged the dark denim down his legs, leaving them around his ankles so you could rub at his covered cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned loudly. The hand he had on the wall slowly curled into a fist, pounding against the wall lightly. You smirked up at him, biting at your lip. He rarely cursed, but when he did, you knew he meant business. “Don’t tease me.”

You clicked your tongue at him as you tugged his boxers down, letting him spring free. The fabric was left to pool at his feet, you focus turning to the large cock staring straight at your face. It twitched with anticipation, the tip red, swollen and oozing precum. It pulsed as your fingers grazed along the shaft. The sight made your mouth water, tongue tracing your lips slowly.

Taeyong’s fist pounded harder to the wall, a loud grunt exhaled when he felt your lips on the tip just before taking the entire length between your cheeks. He struggled to focus, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision to watch you bobbing your head along his cock. Your hand gripped the base firmly, pumping it in time with your bobs. Your tongue trailed along the underside of his shaft as you moved, the tip traveling along the pulsing vein that protruded out. Your other hand toyed with his balls, juggling them between your fingers and giving them light squeezes.

“Shit,” he cursed again, earning a small smile from you. Taeyong leaned forward, placing his head against the wall, heavier pants starting to leave his lips. He could barely form words with the overwhelming ecstasy of your mouth around his cock. “Please, baby. Give me more.”

You kept your motion steady, not giving into his plea entirely. You wanted to savor the taste of his salty sweetness that seeped onto your tongue, overriding the bitter drink from the early evening. Taeyong didn’t seem pleased; his hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head, his hips jutting forward suddenly. He halted when you gagged once, knowing his abrasive stunt was a bit much.

When you were situated, stilling your movements but keeping his cock resting on your tongue, he thrust forward against. He leveraged the hold he had on your hair to push you forward, your nose meeting his pelvis. His cock met the back of your throat repeatedly as his timed thrusts met your forced head bobs, a slobbering wet gurgle of him fucking your mouth filling the air. Taeyong moaned loudly, unable to keep his voice down - not that he needed to. 

He didn’t stop until he was groaning loudly, his wild thrusts that had grown sloppy ceasing and he was spilling his salty seed down your throat, the white ribbons of cum filling your cheeks and swallowed happily. He pulled out at the end, hand wrapping around the base and giving it a few final pumps. The last few shots landed on your face and chest, your tongue extended to try and capture them. You let out a hearty giggle, tracing the cum along your face and chest with a finger.

Taeyong huffed when he watched you suck the finger clean. The man, fed up of waiting, hoisted you up by the hand before lifting you bridal and turning towards the bed. With the fabric still bundled around his ankles, he stumbled forward, kicking anxiously at them to discard. 

You were thrown careless on the bed with a light yelp and laugh, Taeyong pouncing on top of your bare form. His lips instantly met yours, furious open mouth kisses shared. Your bodies were grinding against each other rapidly, hands eagerly tracing each other’s forms. Your legs twisted together, feet playfully nuzzling against one another. Your arms looped around Taeyong’s neck, fingers curling through his tangled red hair. 

Taeyong pulled away, glancing between your forms long enough to align himself with your core, sheathing himself inside you with one quick thrust. Your eyes closed, moaning and groaning from his size. He wasn’t the largest man out there, but it never ceased to amaze you whenever you were intimate how well he could fill your pussy up. The man stilled, peppering your face with kisses and uttering sweet nothings until you gave him the signature tap on the shoulder to let him know he could continue.

His thursts always started slow, pulling back until he was about to leave you empty and then pushing back in completely. The pace would be slow and steady, soft moans leaving you both. But as time went on, he would gain momentum, hips starting to snap into yours hastily until he was slamming into you, pressing you into the mattress. The sound of clapping skin grew louder, the moans became screams of his name, and your body trembled under his. 

You were quick to orgasm, feeling his thick cock sliding in and out of your tight core quickly, pounding at you quickly. The tip pushed against your g-spot every time he pushed into you, earning himself a breathy pant from below him. Your walls would hug around him, making it harder for him to concentrate on his thrusts. It grew worse when he felt you shudder, back arching and toes curling. Your pussy squeezed him, spilling around his thick shaft and soaking it completely. 

Taeyong stopped moving, not wanting to fill you up so soon, watching your twitching form relax after a minute. Leaning back on his knees between your legs, he pulled himself out, satisfied at how wet his shaft was. HIs fingers toyed with your sensitive entrance for a moment, hearing you groan and watching you twist in subtle discomfort.

He placed a longing kiss on your lips before turning you on your side, laying behind you. His fingers ran along your sides soothingly, drawing different shapes on your stomach and chest. He carefully draped your leg back over his hips, jutting his forward to slide himself between your pussy lips. A low mewl escaped, turning your head back to him to share a loving kiss just as he pushed into you once more.

His hand gripped at your breast, lips pressed to your shoulder. His thrusts picked up steadily, pushing himself deeply into you from behind. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper inside you, his already moist length sliding with ease between your tight walls. He collided with your backside with each thrust, groaning happily with every smack he heard. The bed squeaked with his quick thrusts, jostling with the movements of your bodies. 

Despite his hard and fast repetition of his cock pushing into you, his lips placed kisses to your ear. You could hear his pants and low grunts in the buzz of your ecstasy, enjoying the way he felt thrusting into you furiously. Every slam into you made your head spin, the feeling of his length sliding against your walls causing your heart to beat faster. The way his lips felt against the side of your head at the same time that his cock pushed deeping to and pressed against the most sensitive spot to make you quiver was causing your stomach to burn.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured into your ear softly, nipping at your earlobe. When you moaned in response, his lips curled upwards. His hand grasped tighter to your breast, burrowing his face into you. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I-I love…” you started, panting quickly. 

Taeyong knew what you wanted to say. It was clear. He also knew that you were close again - because so was he. His thrusts were growing sloppy and he could feel your walls tightening sporadically around him. You were both chasing the final high of the night as exhaustion was becoming apparent.

He pulled out, leaving you whining and empty. It wasn’t for long because he pushed you once more on to your back, sliding into you quickly and roughly. Every time, Taeyong had a thing for finishing in a way where he could see your face. He loved to watch you ascend into heaven, feeling blissful from sex. He leaned on his knees between your legs, one hand pushing your leg back and resting on the back of your thigh so your foot rested on his shoulder, and the other pushing your other leg out to spread you wide for him. His eyes were cast onto you body, swapping between your breasts bouncing with his quick snaps, to your heavenly face, swollen lips parted with moans.

“Come on,” he whispered, feeling the sweat running down his brow. “Cum for me, baby,” he pleaded. Rule number one with Taeyong: he always wanted to make sure you were pleased before he was. He always made sure to make you cum before him, and if he didn’t he would work extra hard to please you. It wasn’t uncommon for him to beg for you to snap under him.

“Tae…”

“I know baby,” he let out, heaving for air. “Come on. We’re almost there. Just let it go for me.”

“I love you…”

He grit his teeth and dove in for one last kiss, both of you breaking at the same time. Your bodies trembled together, your juices spilling around his length and his thick seed filling your core completely. Your inner walls were painted white by the strings he spewed, letting them decorate your core in warm stickiness. You moaned into his kiss, too weak to hug him close. 

You were limp when he pulled out, half-lidded eyes watching the satisfied man. His fingers danced along your core, spreading your pussy lips to watch your combined juices trying to escape. One slick finger carefully pushed the juices back in, causing you to shutter and mewl his name. Content with the pleasure, he collapsed beside you, two sweaty bodies sticking to his silk sheets. A thin blanket was dragged over your bodies, one of his arms draping across your stomach. You curled into his side, letting out a long breath.

“I love you so much,” you whispered again. Taeyong didn’t reply, making you glance up at him. “Taeyong?”

“Move in with me,” he whispered. you almost felt like you didn’t hear him right. You blinked a few times before sitting up slowly, groaning in pain. You hugged the blanket to your chest, turning to the man. 

“What?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated, louder this time. “You’re already here all the time, and you shouldn’t have to be paying for the dingy apartment. I love you so much, baby, and I want you to live with me.”

The room grew quiet, the air thick. You repeated the offer in your mind. The alcohol had worn off at this point, so there was little chance that he wasn’t thinking straight. Taeyong stared at you silently as you thought, biting at his lip. Only when you carefully took his hand in yours and placed them laced together in your lap did he let out the breath he had been holding. 

“I will,” you mumbled before turning to him and kissing him passionately. “I will, Taeyong. I love you so much. I will move in with you.”

“Wonderful,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “You just made a man very happy today.”

“Well, you always make me happy,” you told him back.

“Yeah. I always will…”

~

You awoke to the sunlight streaming through a small crack in the curtains, the light hitting your face directly. A low groan left your lips as you turned over, finding the bed cold and empty beside you. Since moving in with Taeyong, you had become accustomed to the morning he was gone when you woke up. He had work to do, and he hated to disturb you when he left. 

When your eyes fell on a small box on your side tab and a folded note, you smiled. Carefully sitting up, blanket to your chest, you grabbed the two items, looking at the note first. It was short:

A beautiful present for a beautiful woman. I will be home for dinner, so I will see you then. I love you. Have a wonderful day babe.

You shook your head, looking into the box. It was a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings that would dangle and shine from your lobes. You shook your head, letting out a short laugh. 

“That man,” you scowled playfully. “He just doesn’t know when to quit.”

He always bought you presents, especially after you moved in months ago. They were always expensive, and you would yell at him for wasting so much on you. He said it wasn’t an issue and he wanted to spoil you. It left you wondering how much money he had. You never fought him hard about it; the gesture was always sweet and made you smile because he thought of you so much.

Climbing out of bed, you grabbed an outfit from the closet, showering and dressing quickly. It was the early afternoon when you stepped out of the penthouse, leaving the large building with a pep in your step. You walked down the road to a small market store on the corner, a place you would frequent when you had small cravings or needed mild groceries. With the thought of Taeyong returning in time for dinner, you wanted to return his generous gift with a homemade meal of his favorite items - complete with a chocolate cake.

The only issue was you were low on groceries. The last of your groceries went to a large group dinner a few nights prior, the pair of you opting for take out after that. You figured you would only get a few groceries for the time being until Johnny could take you down for a full grocery run. 

The door jingled when you walked in, the street oddly empty. You paid no attention to the lack of people around, waving at the store owner who sat at the register behind the counter. You grabbed the small reusable bag and disappeared down the aisles, humming to yourself as you searched for what you needed. 

“Let’s see. If I make kalguktsu, I will need more noodles and vegetables. We have stock still, and I could pick up some prawns for it too. Maybe grab some snacks and something for lunch. Maybe some kimbap…”

You talked to yourself as you placed the desired items in your bag. Making it to the last aisle for your snacks, your eyes ran over the items, searching for anything that sounded good. You kneeled to the floor to look at the lower shelves, placing the bag aside, when the door jingled again. Initially, you paid no mind to it, figuring another customer walked in.

Until you heard a gunshot. 

You collapsed to the side in shock, watching the water canister in the corner get pierced, water leaking onto the ground and flooding it. You covered your mouth in shock, afraid to make a noise. 

“Well, well, Dohyeon,” someone spoke, causing you to shake. “Is anyone else here?”

Your breathing stopped. you glanced towards the end of the aisle, afraid they would hear you or find you. You could feel your hands shaking, tears starting to leak from your eyes. With bated breath, you awaited the owner’s response. 

“No,” he responded confidently, no waiver in his voice. “It’s been slow today. But I guess I know why.”

“Yeah,” the person responded. “Come on in, boss. Coast is clear.”

The door jingled, two pairs of footsteps tapping against the floor. You waited to hear what they would have to say, but what you heard made your heart stop for reasons other than fear.

“You should have known I would find out.”

Through bleary eyes, you glanced up, finding a reflective mirror in the corner of the store. In front of the counter stood four men - four men you knew too well. Johnny and Jaehyun held guns at the owner - Dohyeon - while Mark stood behind the man with familiar red hair. You wanted to cry and sob, but you couldn’t. You were appalled to find Taeyong there, staring down Dohyeon with his own gun.

“You knew those drugs were mine. You were supposed to sell them for us. But no. You had to go and doublecross us and sell the stock to Stray Kids? What kind of profit did you make off that.”

Dohyeon was quiet.

“Yeah, you know I’m fucking pissed. You know better than to cross me. But you did anyway!” Another shot fired, making you jump as a counter behind Dohyeon collapsed. “Now, you’re lucky I’m willing to give you one last chance. I could easily kill you here and now, but you haven’t done us wrong until now. 

“But, it won’t come free. I want you to hand over all of the cash you received from them, plus interest. And I expect the next time we give you something, you make sure to stay selling for us. Your cut will be reduced until you are back in good faith, but it’s better than being dead, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Dohyeon whispered bitterly. 

“You don’t sound very grateful,” Taeyong growled. “Would you prefer I just shoot you here and now? I can make that happen.”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” Mark threw a bag on the counter. “Put the money in the bag. All of it.”

You watched Dohyeon load the bag with money from under the counter, as well at the money from the register to satisfy Taeyong’s demands. The bag was zipped shut, Mark taking it from Dohyeon’s grasp. The owner sat back down, watching the four men.

“Think of this as a warning,” Taeyong sneered. “You agreed to this. You work for me and if I find out you are pulling some shady shit again, I will have you killed in the most gruesome way possible. No one fucks with NCT. Am I clear?”

“Yes…”

“I say am I clear?!”

“Yes sir!”

“Good. And if anyone asks what happened here, we were never here. Some kids vandalized you, or something of the sort. You’re a smart man. That’s obvious by trying to sell to Stray Kids, but not smart enough if you didn’t think you’d be caught.”

Taeyong made his way to the door, Mark in tow. Johnny and Jaehyun followed behind them both, never lowering the guns. Taeyong sent one last glance at the man behind the counter. 

“Pleasure doing business as always.”

When the door closed and the jingling stopped, you dropped your hand, feeling your entire body trembling. After a minute passed, and you were sure they had left, you stood on shaky legs, grabbing the bag from the ground. You stumbled out of the aisle, slipping in the pool of water on your way to the door. Dohyeon said nothing as he watched you slap money onto the counter and rush out the door. You ran down the street with bag in hand, disappearing into the sudden sea of people that flooded the previously vacant area.

Sitting at home awaiting his return was nerve wracking.  The second you got home, you threw yourself into another shower, collapsing to the floor and wailing loudly with sobs. The remainder of the afternoon was spent replaying what happened, and pondering how to confront Taeyong about what you had witnessed. You watched the time tick on, curling into yourself with a blanket on the couch.

Taeyong walked through the door with a smile, dropping his keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his red jacket. “Baby, I’m home,” he called happily, making his way into the living room. He expected to find you cooking or watching tv, but let his smile fade when he noticed the silence and you curled up on the couch staring at nothing. “Babe?”

You didn’t respond, worrying the red-haired man. He rushed forward, taking a seat at your feet. His hand ran along your blanket covered leg, pausing when he felt you flinch. Taeyong frowned, tilting his head at you. “Y/N, what’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I saw you…”

“What?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”

You finally looked up at him. He could immediately tell you had been crying from your red and swollen eyes. “Tell me honestly - what is your job?”

“I…” he started, but stopped, turning away.

“I saw you at the little corner store you took me too and we always shop at.”

He stayed silent.

“Taeyong, I want the truth.”

“I think you already figured it out,” he rasped bitterly before sighing. “If you want out now, I won’t blame you. I won’t hold it against you. And I will make sure that no one comes after you for it as long as you remain quiet about what you know.

“But I… I have lied to you many times. And I’m not proud of that. I honestly should have never dragged you into this, but I couldn’t help myself. I have lied about many things, but I have never lied about my feelings for you. I love you with all my heart, Y/N, and I will do anything to keep you safe.

“But I understand that I have made mistakes by keeping this from you. I never wanted you to be involved, but I should have seen this coming one day. And I’m sorry.”

His gaze was on the floor as he talked, but shot up when your cold hand took his, lacing your fingers together. He stared at you, nervously holding his breath. “I don’t like that you lied about this. That you kept this from me for so long.”

“I know…”

“But, I’m also in too deep,” you murmured. Taeyong gave your hand a squeeze. “I fell in love with you the day I met you and I’ve only gotten deeper since then. I… I don’t want to leave you. I love you too much to leave you.”

“You know I live a dangerous life, right?”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” you told him. “But, we are in this together. I will support you and help you where I can. We’ll just be partners in crime.”

Taeyong bit his lip, running a hand through his red hair until the strands were tousled and sticking up in random directions. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this? I don’t want you to feel pressured to join this lifestyle because of me.”

“I’m sure,” came your meek voice. The man could tell you were scared of the answer, of the path you were agreeing to, but the solid grip on his hand and the fire behind your blown orbs gave him your resolve. “I want to stay by your side. I will help you no matter what.”

“Partners in crime, eh?” he chuckled weakly, smiling weakly at your own giggle in return. 

“Yeah. Partners in crime. If you go down, I go down with you. I’m not leaving your side in this. I know I may not seem like the best candidate for this, but I am a quick learner for whatever you need. Train me for whatever you think you need me for. 

“But going forward, you can’t keep things like this from me. If you want to make this work - to make us work - we need to have this trust. If you are as serious about us as you say you are, and I know you are because I have felt your love and passion, then we need to be open. Which means no lies, no deceit, and most of all, standing by each other’s decisions. We are partners in life, in death, and now, in crime I guess.” 

You paused briefly to let out a breath, watching the man nod at your words. “I won’t deny that I am scared of what I am agreeing to, but I will do what I have to because I want to be with you. Until death do us part.”

Taeyong didn’t say anything. The leader silently crawled onto the couch with you, your body shifting slightly so he could nestle himself between you and the back cushions. His head rested on your breast, one arm looped loosely around your waist. Your hand ran through his ruffled locks, feeling his tense form starting to relax at the soothing motion. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was scared too - not for the work he did, but for your inevitable involvement. 

“I love you. So much…”

His voice was low and muffled, but his words were clear.

“I love you too…”

It made you wonder how a man as soft as the one curled into your side was when you were alone could be so ruthless. You heard him that day threaten the owner of the store, and the thought alone still sent shivers up your spine. But it was just another thing you were going to accept about the mysterious man. 

You were serious when you said to death do you part. You were determined to stand by his side in every situation. He loved you and you loved him. Even though he was a dangerous man, you knew you couldn’t escape.

He had your heart in his hand after all.

Hours later, long after the sun had set and the clock struck midnight, you sat on the same couch, listening to Taeyong pace around behind you. After your confrontation upon his return home, you prepared dinner and had an emotional discussion about everything. He revealed everything to you in that time, laying his life on the table before you. 

He led a small mafia group called NCT. They were one group under a larger organization, and their group controlled the area you lived in. There were twenty-one boys in their unit, breaking into smaller units to manage their territory. Taeyong mentioned there were rival groups that tended to do business in their area, but for the most part, they didn’t clash too much. 

Taeyong, though he led all of the boys in the building, worked mostly with the eight other boys you had spent so much of your time with. The other two groups, Dream and WayV, had members who lead them when Taeyong couldn’t. The building they lived in was owned by their organization. 

And as he spilled everything, including his background and how he got involved coming out of high school, everything seemed to click more given everything you had been through with him since you met. Yet, it didn’t change your feelings for him. It just solidified his trust in you and his desire to have you in his life. 

Now ame the hard part.

“What’s going on boss?” a loud voice chimed as the front door opened widely, eight chipper boys filing through the entryway quickly, led by Mark. “Did something happen with that weapons… call…”

Mark’s voice faded away when the group saw you sitting on the couch and their leader anxiously walking back and forth, his thumb nail in his mouth as he nibbled at it. All of the boys gaped at the sight, unprepared for your presence. Mark seemed the most uncomfortable, seeing as he was about to talk business, assuming that was what they were being called for given the cryptic message they had received that simply said “we have something to discuss. It’s important.”

“Y/N…” Mark stuttered out, panic laced in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here…”

“She lives here,” Yuta pointed out lowly, only to receive a jab in his side from Mark’s elbow.

“Well, just ignore whatever I was saying! It wa a joke really-”

“It’s fine,” Taeyong said, cutting the young boy off. He stopped pacing to face the group, still biting at his nail. “She knows.”

The boys stared at their leader for a minute before bursting into a loud mixture of questions and concerns. Taeyong stared blankly at them until he got fed up with their loud noise, motioning them to silence. The room grew quiet in an instant, all eight of the boys finding places to eat to listen to what Taeyong had to say. 

“She saw us earlier today when we went to handle Dohyeon. She knows who we are and what we do. We’ve already talked about it,” Taeyong muttered.

You stayed silent, waiting for someone to react. But the last thing you expected was Jaehyun, your trusted workout buddy, to stand from his seat across from you and point a gun at your forehead. His eyes narrowed on your form, your stare on him unwavering. Deep inside, you were quaking with fear. You barely registered the remaining boys behind him yelling at him to stand down.

The leader wasn’t having this action. Taeyong was swift to react himself, grabbing a gun he kept in a drawer near the couch and aiming it at Jaehyun. Taeyong’s glare at his friend was sharp, eyes darker than normal. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping completely. “Stand down, Jae.”

“She knows, Taeyong,” Jaehyun retorted, never moving his gaze to his leader. “What’s to stop her from spilling this to the cops? What’s to stop her from leaving when we least expect it and turning us in? We aren’t the good guys here, and now your little girlfriend knows our secret. I knew this wasn’t a good idea when you started bringing her here. It was only a matter of time. So now, we need to make sure she isn’t going to turn.”

“Jaehyun-”

“I don’t plan to sell you out,” you spoke up, cutting off Taeyong. “If I did, I wouldn’t have come back here and confronted Taeyong about this.”

“So? That means nothing. You could be gathering evidence to bring to the cops-”

“I love Taeyong,” you cut in. “I wouldn’t do that to him, and I wouldn’t do that to you guys. You guys are my friends. We have spent so much time together and I love you guys to death.”

“How can I trust you?” Jaehyun snapped.

“You’ll just have to,” you told him.

“Put the gun down, Jae,” Taeyong told him, watching the man slowly lower the weapon and return to his seat. His own gun was placed aside, placing his hands on your shoulders instead. “We’ve talked about this all night. It hasn’t been easy. But you guys know I love Y/N to death. I don’t want to lose her. And her saying she is willing to accept this part of me, this part of us, means everything to me. I don’t want to lose her.

“So, after talking about it, I’ve agreed to let her join us. She said she wants to help us. But, we wanted to get your guys’ approval for her to join as well. We are a team and I can’t decide this on my own.”

You placed a hand on his that was on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you guys may be concerned, but I promise you that I am here to help. I don’t want to sell anyone out or see anyone get hurt. I just want to be with Taeyong and all of you.” You paused, feeling Taeyong lean down to kiss the top of your head. “Taeyong and I are partners. I love him with all my heart and I will stand by his side until death do us part. Now, we’ll just be partners in crime too.”

The room grew quiet again, your stomach bubbling with nerves. You weren’t sure what their response would be, or what would happen if they decided you didn’t belong. You feared you would be forced to leave the man you loved because of his occupation.

“So, till death do you part? Does that mean you guys are going to get married finally?” Jungwoo chimed happily, eyes sparkling. “I’ve been waiting for Taeyong to propose for so long. Can I be the flower boy?”

“You’re not even the youngest!” Haechan growled, Jungwoo giving him a smug smile.

“But I’m cuter!”

“Hey, no fighting!” Doyoung scolded the two boys. “They didn’t say anything about marriage yet!”

“We all know it’s coming,” Yuta chuckled, watching your cheeks instantly flush a bright red. You turned to Taeyong, flustered. Taeyong shrugged with an obvious smile.

“They aren’t wrong. One day, you will be mine. But, I plan to propose to you properly.”

“Taeyong!” you screamed, swatting at him. Everyone laughed, Jaehyun excluded. As everyone quieted down, Taeyong spoke back up.

“By a show of hands, how many of you are in favor or letting Y/N join? Before you decide, please know that we will need to train her in what we do.” His eyes turned to Jaehyun for a moment before continuing. “On a count of three. One… two… three…”

Four hands shot up instantly - Mark, Jungwoo, Haechan and Yuta. three hands were slow to follow - Taeil, Doyoung and Johnny. Everyone turned to Jaehyun, who had yet to decide. The man stared deeply at you, mouth in a tight line.

“If she joins, I am in charge of training,” his cold voice cut in. “I don’t trust her in this situation and if things turn south, I will not hesitate to end this deal.” 

You shivered at his words, but glanced up at Taeyong, giving him a nod. Taeyong sighed.

“Fine, but just know that if you turn around and kill her, I will kill you.”

“Deal,” Jaehyun said before raising his hand.

Taeyong smiled slightly before nodding. “That’s it. With everyone’s consent,” he hummed, moving to sit beside you. He kissed your cheek swiftly, your face heating. “Welcome to NCT, Y/N.”

You smiled, bowing to the boys. “Thank you for having me.”

“This is going to be interesting,” Mark hummed, everyone agreeing.

You knew he wasn’t wrong. 

~

If you ever thought you’d be good at something in life, it wasn’t your skill with fighting or with a gun. It wasn’t your natural ability to be intimidating on command. Maybe you thought you’d be good at sewing, or maybe drawing beautiful scenary on paper. 

But no. 

Under Jaehyun’s watchful eye, the glint from the darkness as he watched you punch at a dummy in the weight room before pushing it back completely despite being twice your size, or when your eyes narrowed on a target, the sudden jolt of the gun in your hands leading to a bulls eyes through the forehead of your paper victim, you had managed to fit right now with the mafia boys you had come to love. 

Jaehyun, naturally, still had minor suspicions of you, even after months of one-on-one training to get you in tip top shape to be a member. But, the day you managed to take him down in a spar, leaving you giddy with delight before hopping around the room ecstatically, he started to lay off on his threats to end you so willingly. When you hadn’t spilled the truth to anyone, even when your former boss asked why you were quitting so suddenly, he felt a bit more at ease. When you took training seriously, showing up early and staying extra late to master what he was trying to teach, pushing through pain to continue, he would smile just a bit at your determination.

Taeyong couldn’t have been more proud. He had told you that on many occasions. When he would pop in to assess your progress, he never found a second to be unimpressed. You had grown strong in your time with Jaehyun, making you a force to be reckoned with.

And he couldn’t lie when he said it wasn’t attractive. 

There were the days when he would join in on your hand-to-hand training, after Jaehyun was willing to allow his boss to intervene. There were days he would be in the gun range on the ground floor, hidden deep in the back in a soundproof room, where we would watch you fire shot after shot without missing your mark, sometimes joining for a small competition. He never lost, but you didn’t make it easy when he would get distracted by your beauty.

In those days, Jaehyun would dismiss himself early, trusting his boss and friend in case something were to happen. And he was right - in a sense. Those were the days you found yourself getting frisky with your lover, moaning loudly while he thrust into your wet core. He’d have you pressed against a mat in the training room, or sitting atop the table in the gun range where you’d place your unused weapons, pounding you like an animal in heat, leaving searing hot kisses along your face and throat. You’d have to clean up afterwards, but it was worth it to be with Taeyong in that way; night time was never the best for intimacy when you were both exhausted. 

Part of you was glad that no one ever walked in when you had those moments, but part of you was also convinced that Jaehyun knew what would happen when you were left alone together, and he would warn the others not to disturb you. 

He was cold, but you knew he meant well. 

When you awoke one morning nearly six months into your newfound profession, you found Taeyong dressed in a black turtleneck and tan trench coat, loose blue jeans hugging his slim waist, and his bright red locks slicked back the way he did when he meant business, you knew he was on a job that day. 

“I want to join,” you meekly voiced, catching him off guard. The man whipped around to face you, adjusting his necklaces.

“You’re worn out, baby. And this is a pretty big job today. I don’t want you to get involved,” he voiced, biting at his lower lip. “This jewelry store owner that we leant money to so he could start up his business hasn’t paid, but he’s not a pushover. I don’t want you there in case things turn ugly.”

“I’ll be fine, Yong,” you hushed him, slinging yourself from the bed and rushing to the closet. Taeyong pouted, following after you.

“Babe-”

“No, don’t start,” you huffed at him. “You’ve only sent me on small jobs. I’m ready for something more, Taeyong.”

“I know, but-”

“But nothing!” you yelled. When Taeyong recoiled slightly, you sighed. “I’m sorry, Yongie. But I think I’m ready. I agreed to do this, to join you guys. So, let me do my job. I can help. And if things go sour, I can handle myself. I’m almost as good of a marksman as you. I can sometimes take down Jaehyun in a fight and he’s not an easy target. Yes, I’m tired because of yesterday’s training, but I’m not too tired to go help you with this. So, please-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his plump lips sealing yours. Your body instantly melted into his, wrapping your arms around his torso. His hands were clasped to your hips, tugging you closer. When he pulled away, finding your eyes closed and lips puckered, he chuckled. 

“Shut up and get dressed. We don’t have all day.”

You were left alone, a silent cheer leaving your body before rushing to find an outfit. In a matter of minutes, you were bouncing into the living room, pulling on a loose blouse to go with the tight black jeans. Taeyong’s eyes followed after you from the breakfast bar, licking his lips.

“Do you plan to seduce someone?” he chirped cheekily. “Because I must say, it’s working.”

“Shut up,” you scowled at him, trying to hide the blush and smile on your face while trekking to the front door. You picked up a pair of sleek heels - ones that Taeyong gifted you one day - and turned to the red haired man, giving a sultry wink. “Now, shall we get going, big boy? We have a job to do.”

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this. You’re gonna be the death of me before we ever get to the store.”

You giggled, pulling on your shoes and slipping out the door. Taeyong closely followed, taking your hand on the way to the elevator and to the garage. Johnny and Mark were waiting, as per usual for things like this, but the look of surprise on their faces when they saw you at their boss’ side made you chuckle. They didn’t question, Johnny simply opening the door so you and Taeyong could slide into the back. The tall man took his place at the wheel, Mark bouncing in the passenger seat as the car rolled from its spot onto the crowded street.

On the drive, you were briefed more in depth about what was going on. Mark, who was busy loading ammo into an arsenal of guns, passed two back, Taeyong tucking one into his jeans and handing you the other. Your heart pounded, looking down at the gun in your hand. It felt heavy in your grip. Despite the training, and the few things you had done for Taeyong, you had not actually used the weapon on someone. Would today be the day? You couldn’t say, but something in your gut said today wouldn’t be a good day. Bile rose in your throat at the worrisome feeling that lingered inside.

The street was near desolate when you arrived, the four of you sliding out of the car and approaching the jewelry store. No one was inside when you entered, a small bell ringing upon your entrance. The store owner, an older man named Youngjae, sitting behind the counter turned his head up with a smile that quickly vanished when he realized who had entered. Taeyong approached him confidently, you and Mark on his tail. The young blonde boy carried a large duffle bag in his left hand. Johnny guarded the door, flipping the sign to closed, securing the lock, and pulling down the sun visor so people couldn’t see what was happening so clearly. 

“Time to pay up, Youngjae,” Taeyong spoke clearly, skipping the theatrics and jumping straight to the point. Youngjae’s gaze on the young mafia leader didn’t falter, his lips sealed in a tight line. “Are you deaf? You’re lucky we waited until now to come collect. You are nearly six months overdue on that loan for this shop. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing rather well for yourself.”

Taeyong walked around the store, picking up some necklaces on display that had diamonds that shone brightly, trailing some fingers along the sapphire bracelets, and finally stopping at the engagement rings. He picked one up that had a square cut diamond in the center, two smaller ones adorning either side of it. He seemed to hum in approval, grabbing a velvet box from a stand and turning to Mark. 

“Pack up some of the jewelry. We can use it as part of the payment.” Youngjae went to move when the younger male moved to collect from open stands, Taeyong quick to pull his weapon on the man. The older gentleman rose both hands, stilling in his movements, his stoic face unchanged. “Don’t even think about it.”

When Mark finished collecting what he deemed most valuable, he placed the bag in front of Youngjae. “Money,” the boy spoke.

When he didn’t move, Taeyong’s eyes narrowed. “You heard him,” the boss sneered angrily, narrowing his eyes. “All of the money in your safe deposit under the counter - I know it’s there because we installed it - and in your register. We’ll take that for now. If you continue to avoid payment, we will come back for the bank account. Sound fair?”

Youngjae continued to stay unmoving.

In a flash, you pulled out your own gun, clicking the safety off and aiming directly at his forehead. Your eyes were dark, making the older man visibly swallow. You were mildly thankful for your quick makeup job, making you somewhat more intimidating than your normal soft exterior. 

“I won’t say it again,” you huffed. “Put the money in the bag, or I will shoot you. I don’t have time to play this game with you, so if you value your life, i suggest you do what you’ve been told, pay up when you need to, and move on with your life. You made a deal with the devil for this, so it’s time to pay up. What do you say, sweetie?”

Youngjae silently nodded, opening the register and pulling handfuls of bills out. He followed by kneeling down on the floor to unlock the safe deposit box, pulling out more wads of bills that were all placed into the duffle bag. When he was finished, he backed away slowly, hands still in the air.

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled eerily, nodding at Mark to grab the bag. Taeyong smirked at himself, waving at Johnny to unlock the door. Mark left first, Johnny following to bring the car forward. “Pleasure doing business sweetheart. Don’t let this happen again.”

Blowing in a quick kiss, you made your way to the door, heels clicking and hips swaying. Taeyong followed after you, keeping an eye on the owner before slipping out of the door. You both piled back into the car, the vehicle quick to disappear down the road.

But what you had both missed in that moment was Youngjae pressing the small panic button on the underside of his countertop. His eyes traveled to the small tv on the side of his counter that showed security footage of the car you had gotten into, the man narrowing on the license plate. When his phone rang, police on the other line, he picked up.

“I’ve just been robbed by the mafia. I have their plate number. It’s…”

The events went unbeknownst to you on your way back to the penthouse, Taeyong’s hand on your thigh. He placed a kiss to your ear, nipping it lightly. “That was hot,” he whispered. “I never thought I’d be so turned on hearing you talk like that.”

“Is that so?” you hummed, turning to face him. His eyes were dark and lustful, making you wiggle in your seat. His lips curled up, giving a toothy grin.

“Guys, take care of the goods,” he voiced when Johnny pulled into the garage. You were nearly yanked from the car before it could come to a complete stop, Taeyong lifting you into his arms and carrying you away. Mark and Johnny watched you squeal loudly, cringing when they saw Taeyong smack your backside on his way to the elevator.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Mark mumbled, Johnny nodding in agreement.

The moment you were pushed through the penthouse door, you were dropped onto the couch, shoes and blouse discarded immediately. Taeyong went to pounce on your, narrowly missing your escaping form into your shared bedroom. His huff of annoyance could be heard as you ran into the bathroom, pulling off your jeans and undergarments as you went. You disappeared into the glass shower before Taeyong could join you, starting the hot water up. 

Taeyong’s eyes narrowed on your now wet form, watching you make faces at him through the glass. Your form was bare and dripping, and adding that to the memory of early, he was twitching already. The tan coat had been discarded on the bed before he joined you in the bathroom, but he didn’t hesitate to shed the turtleneck and jeans as well. The door was shut, and the glass door was opened, the man appearing at your side.

Immediately, you were tugged into a searing kiss, your body melting into his grasp under the waterfall of droplets that cascaded down your forms. He didn’t bother to ask for permission, his tongue bypassing your lips to attack the inside of your mouth. His hands gripped harder to your hips, veins running along up his hands and along his arms. His head tilted to the side to press perfectly against you, his mouth molding into yours without issue.

He pulled away for air, the steam from the shower making it harder to breath. Taeyong eyes were darker than normal, lust slated within the brown orbs. His tongue passed over his swollen lips, tracing yours slightly from the close proximity, earning a small whimper from within your throat.

“You were wonderful out there today,” he hummed lowly, nipping at your skin until he reached your ear. “I wasn’t expecting you to jump in the way you did. And you way you handled everything?” He paused for a moment, his breath hot on your ear. “It was pretty fucking hot.”

His words made you shiver, a mewl of delight piercing the sound of falling water. Taeyong pushed back his now wet hair, biting at his lip. 

“I should reward you for it. How does that sound?”

You didn’t even respond. His face was simply tugged back to yours, eagerly kissing his plump lips once more. Your hands cupped his cheeks, taeyong pulling you taut against his body. His steps moved forward; yours moved back. You found yourself pressed against the chillingly cold wall of the shower, grimacing in the midst of the sloppy connection and arch your back away from the steely frost against your skin. It only pushed you further into the mafia boss’ needy body, feeling the heat that radiated from his skin.

His lips traveled from your ear, down your cheek and to your neck, attacking it with suckling kisses that left dark red blotches ebbed on your skin. Your hands on his cheeks slid up to his wet red locks, scratching at his scalp happily. Your body burned under his light touches, feeling his fingers ghosting along your arms to your chest, fondling your breasts for a moment before his lips replaced his diligent digits to suckle at the hardened nipples, finally sliding down between your soaked forms to to with your moist pussy. 

The combination of his long fingers alternating between circling your clit and prodding at your core, and his gentle cites and kisses to your sensitive mounds sent your head reeling back, loud moans unceremoniously filling the air. Taeyong’s wicked grin against your chest was obvious almost as much as his increased actions, speeding up rubbing at your nub and popping his lips against your chest when he would tug at the buds.  

“Yong,” you whimpered at him, squirming in his grasp. Your stomach churned with arousal and delight, the feeling of his fingers sliding into your tight core adding to the stars you were already feeling. The thrusts of the two digits made you body jolt, his hand quick and nimble. His thumb pressed to your clit as he moved, the man grinning at your face that was twisted with ecstasy. “Oh god, baby. Yes.”

“You like that?” he mused, kissing his way back up to your face. “Or, do you like my cock better?”

“At this point, anything,” you managed to get out, breath picking up the closer you got to your end. “I love you so much, Taeyong.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, kissing you lightly. “I love you too, baby.”

He pulled his fingers back before you could finish, a whining groan escaping you. “You love me but you don’t let me finish? How dare you-”

In a flash, you were spun around, your eyes meeting the wall, barely able to make out the condensation dripping along the white porcelain. Your hands pressed to the surface to keep from falling over, fingers curling against it. The feeling stung against your palms, your hands cold in contrast to the wet wall heated from the water that rained around you. The heat of a body pressed against your back, searing kisses placed along your neck and shoulder, sent shivers along your spine. Strong but delicate hands roamed along your form, hips rutting against your backside slowly, before your right leg was hiked up swiftly. 

“Are you ready for me?” he whispered seductively into your ears, lips tracing along the shell delicately.

“Yes, please,” you mewled at him, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “Please, Taeyong.”

The low hum heard amongst the shower left your mind blank, anticipation flooding your veins. The slow rut of his hips was agonizing, and it wasn’t until he finally slid into you with one swift thrust that you felt full. A loud moan left your lips, your forehead placed against the wall happily. His thrusts began quick, wasting no time with slamming himself into your tight center and shoving your body further against the wall. 

“Oh Tae,” you let out. The familiar curl of his grin against the side of your head was unmistakable at the sound you made. 

“God, you always feel so good,” he rasped lowly, jutting himself harder than before and grinding against you harshly. The deep grunt he let out was thrilling to hear. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

“I think it’s me that got lucky,” you managed to say through plants, jolting when he resumed his rapid thrusts. “I’m so lucky:”

Taeyong seemed to speed up from your broken words, his cock pistoning in and out of you swiftly. His hips clapped against your ass, your leg hiked up bits at a time that made the angle deeper and his cock hit spots that made you shake. Every push into you, he found that one spot that had you moaning his name pathetically, chanting it like a mantra. 

The water was beginning to go cold by the time you were convulsing from his thrusts, feeling his hand wrap around your throat the closer you got to your high. You begged him softly to let you cum, the man commanding you to wait until he was ready to fill you to the brim with his own milky essence. His lips trailed down your neck nipping at the skin with his teeth and giving a gentle squeeze that made your sight go white with a rainbow of stars for a moment. 

“Yong, please.”

“Hold on, baby,” he kept saying, gasping the more he did. His thrusts were growing sloppy and forced the longer he went, his grip on your body hardening. With his forehead on your shoulder, he managed to utter a quick, “I’m almost there,” before grunting loudly.

THe last of his thrusts were the hardest and deepest, his cock lingering inside your wet pussy as he released. His milky seed spilled into you in bursts of warmth, painting your inner walls in the creamy white substance. His release sent your own into a fit of spasms, your walls tightening and convulsing around his length. They hugged at his thick shaft, coating it in your release while milking his own. Taeyong’s movements slowed to a gentle rhythm, letting your two forms meld into one against the wall and your cum mixing together deep inside of you.

Fingers pressed against the side of your face, tilting your head to the side. Your hazy gaze landed on the deep brown irises of Taeyong, a warm smile on his lips. Slowly, he leaned forward, remaining buried deep inside of you as he pressed a firm and loving kiss to your lips, conveying every ounce of love he felt into the connection. The frozen droplets of water did nothing to you against the heat of your bodies and the smoldering kiss you shared. 

And as his lips dragged down against yours, you couldn’t help but to smile.

With your body dried and dressed in onee of Taeyong’s baggy, long-sleeved shirts and a pair of jeans, you walked into the living room, headed for the kitchen. As you opened the fridge to find something to make for dinner, two arms wrapped around your form, a giggle erupting from your lips. Taeyong snuggled into your neck, lifting you off your feet and kicking the fridge shut.

“Taeyong, no! I’m hungry!” you scowled through a laugh, flailing in the man’s arms. Your actions proved futile, Taeyong carrying you to the couch and falling on his back atop it, placing you on his lap. 

“I know. But I wanted to spend some more time with you,” he pouted, the look adorable in your opinion. His fingers played with the hem of the shirt you wore, dipping under it to trace his fingers along your side. “Have I ever mentioned how beautiful you are?”

“Maybe once or twice,” you joked, leaning forward to place a butterfly kiss to his nose. 

Taeyong sent you a shimmering smile, pulling you into a harder kiss. His tongue bypassed your lips instantly, the kiss growing hotter by the second. Your eyes slipped closed, your body eagerly rolling against his. A deep groan was muffled in his throat, hands pushing desperately at your shirt until your chest was exposed. That was the only time he broke the kiss - so he could attach his lips to your perk nipples, tongue flicking them happily.

“Tae,” you moaned loudly. 

You pushed against his chest to sit upright, rolling against him harder and faster. Your jeans pushed into your aching core, feeling his growing hard on through his own pair of black denim bottoms. His hands gripped at your chest, hooded eyes watching you grind against him. Your eyes slid shut, head falling back as his name left your mouth.

“Tae,” you whimpered, cracking open your eyes and turning to look at him. But your movements slowed, much to his dismay. The male under you whimpered and pushed up into you, eager to continue. “Taeyong, what is that?”

The mafia leader ceased his movements, propping himself up on his elbows and turning to follow your gaze. His brow creased at the flashing blue and red lights that reflected slightly on the window.

“The fuck?” he murmured, moving you from his lap and rushing to the window. “Why the fuck are the cops here?”

“The cops?” you whispered to yourself, eying the man you love. Before you could question him more, muffled gunshots could be heard through the building. 

Taeyong was quick to rush to the door, grabbing a gun on the way and sliding on his shoes. You jumped up after him, stumbling as you pulled on your own shoes and following after him. The noise in the hallway was louder than in the penthouse, screaming and shouting growing louder as your bounded down the stairwell. Exhaustion was setting in from the numerous stairs you rushed down, but neither of you stopped.

“Taeyong, wait!” you called at the man who refused to slow down. “Don’t rush in there! You could get hurt!”

Seething with anger, he didn’t listen, pushing open the door to the ground floor as soon as he hit the bottom step. You barely could register someone yelling Taeyong’s name and a shot being fired before he was stumbling back, a hand on his shoulder. 

“Fuck!” he yelled out in pain, pulling his hand back to see the crimson blood coating his fingers. 

“Baby, are you alright?” you asked, pulling him further from the door and seating him on the steps of the stairwell. Your own hand trembled, placed on his and feeling the blood slide between your fingers. “Shit, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he grimaced, wincing while adjusting how he was sitting. 

“You’re far from, sir,” you told him, ripping off one of the sleeve of the shirt you wore and wrapping it around his arm. “This will help for now but…”

“It’s fine,” he said again. “We need to get out there and meet with the others. I saw them briefly when I opened the door.”

“But what if they shoot again?” you asked, your voice meek.

“I will protect you,” he said, letting out a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stay low and you’re going to go left. Jaehyun and Yuta are behind the reception desk.”

“Alright,” you let out. 

“Don’t worry. I will be right behind you.”

Nodding, you cracked open the door, crouching low. The flashing of the police vehicles was brighter when you entered the lobby, finding the once beautiful area destroyed. Dead bodies of the staff that were employed by the NCT mafia to man their building were laid in various areas of the room, blood pooling around their unfortunate bodies after being caught in the crossfire. Furniture was ridden with bullet holes, upholstery exposed, and tables and desks having their wood flaked and chipped. 

Jaehyun was quick to aid you, pulling you behind the front desk before helping Taeyong over. Yuta, Jungwoo and Mark were with him, heavily breathing and reloading their guns with the limited ammo they had. 

“What the hell is going on?” Taeyong snarled at no one in particular. 

“The cops, obviously,” Yuta cheekily joked, his laughter ceased with Taeyong’s glare.

“Obviously,” came the leader’s retort. “Did the police say anything?”

“No,” Mark told him, leaning against the desk. “I can only assume we were ratted out after what happened earlier.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taeyong yelled. “Shit!”

“Yong, calm down,” you told him, taking his shaking hand. This seemed to calm him slightly.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Already sent off to the escape tunnels,” Jungwoo mumbled, eyes darting to a wall to the right. Taeyong had told you of the secret passage for escape in case of emergencies. “We told them that we would hold them off so they could get to the cars and escape.”

Taeyong nodded, running a hand through his red locks. His mouth opened, only to be silenced by the squeal of a microphone outside.

“This is the Seoul Police. We have the place surrounded. Come out with your hands up, or we will be forced to fire!”

The boys seemed adamant on fighting, telling you to stay down as they opened fire at the door and windows, the police firing back with each shot. The ring of the shots made your head hurt, your hands cupping your ears in an attempt to shield them. Your eyes squeezed closed, curling in on yourself and only hoping that a stray shot didn’t hit anyone. 

When the firing came to a stop, and the boys ducked down, thankfully unharmed, they were all cursing. Jaehyun pushed at the desk, dropping his now empty gun.

“We’re fucked,” he growled, ruffling his dark locks. 

“No,” Taeyong said firmly. “You guys go and escape. I will keep them distracted.”

“What, no-” Yuta began to protest, but Taeyong shook his head.

“I’m your leader. I swore to protect you all. I will go down fighting for my family.”

Yuta, Jungwoo, Mark and Jaehyun nodded, Marking peering around the desk. “We have a chance now. They aren’t looking in that way. If we can make it to the passage, we’re fine.”

“Good, then go,” Taeyong ordered, turning to look at you. “You need to go with them.”

“No,” you firmly said. 

“That wasn’t an offer, Y/N,” Taeyong huffed. “Please, I need you to go. I need you to be safe-”

“I know it wasn’t an offer. I know what you’re thinking, but my answer is still no. I told you a long time ago when I learned what you do that I would be by your side until the end. I will be by your side until death do us part. I’m not leaving you to handle this on your own, Lee Taeyong. If you go down, I’m going with you.”

“Y/N,” he started, glancing at the others. They all held looks of concern, but chose to say nothing when their leader nodded hesitantly. The four men gave you a soft look before they darted for the passageway, the wall sliding open and closed quickly, their forms gone.

Taeyong sighed, leaning his back against the desk. He took the gun from his jeans that he grabbed on his way out of the penthouse, checking the ammo he had. “Not much left, eh?”

“Never thought this would be the end, did you?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Taeyong smiled for a second before becoming serious. 

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

Together you stood, lifting your hands as you walked towards the door. You spied the barrel of guns aimed at you as you stopped at the door, staring down the cops. Their words fell deaf on your ears waiting for Taeyong to pull the gun and proceed with his last hurrah. Your heart was pounding, hands clammy.

This was the end. 

Just as Taeyong reached for his gun, smoke filled the area, shouts and screams and shots firing around the blinded area. Taeyong gripped your hand, tugging you back into the lobby of the building. He rushed towards the secret passage holding your hand tightly. As the wall slid open, he turned back to the doorway, spotting a figure in dark blue with a gas mask on watching them. You turned to follow his gaze, spotting the figure gesture before disappearing into the smoke.

“Who was that?” you asked quietly.

Taeyong pushed against the small of your back to force you into the passage, the wall sliding shut behind him. “Heechul.”

“Who’s that?”

“Our older brother mafia,” Taeyong hummed, smiling giddily. “Super Junior.”

“They came to our rescue?”

“Yeah,” the leader mumbled. “The others must have called them as soon as it was safe.”

“Well, I’m glad then…”

Taeyong chuckled, pulling you into a hug despite the pain he felt in his injured arm. His face nestled into your hair, a low sob escaping his throat. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“We’re both safe.”

“Well, not yet I guess,” Taeyong said. “We need to go. Now.”

“Alright…”

Taeyong took your hand once more, the two of you running down the darkened hall, hoping that nothing would find you at the end.

~

You hummed a song softly, staring out a crack in the window at the barren road in front of the motel. Your fingers ran soothingly through the dyed black locks of your lover, who was curled up in your lap. Turning to look down at him, your own dyed locks fell against your cheeks, ticking his nose. A smile grew on his face, eyes remaining closed. 

You had taken refuge in a small motel far from the city, waiting for things to die down. The boys were scattered and in hiding, just like yourselves. Disposable phones were the only way to keep in contact to make sure everyone was safe still. There was no telling how long you were to live like this, but you didn’t mind it. 

“Y/N,” Taeyong sang, finally opening his chocolate colored orbs to look up at you. “I love you.”

He took your hand that was previously resting on his chest into his, playing  with the square cut diamond ring you wore. It was the same one he took from the shop that day. A few days after your escape, after Taeyong had been patched up for his injury by the Super Junior mafia and everyone separated for protection, going into hiding, he pulled out the box from his jeans pocket. 

“I was going to propose with this that night. I had everything planned - a nice dinner, a big speech, and a night to make love to you - but it all got fucked up. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me,” he had said while laying in bed, fiddling with the box. 

“You’re stupid if you think after all of this that I would say no and leave you. Till death do we part, remember?”

You happily wore the ring still, never once taking it off since he slid it on your finger. It wasn’t your ideal proposal, but you weren’t going to argue if it meant you got to be with him. Watching him fiddle with it now, a grin on his soft, handsome features, left your heart fluttering. 

“I love you too, Lee Taeyong,” you hummed. “And remember, I will always be by your side.”

“Partners until the end?” He asked. You smiled leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Naturally.”

#lee taeyong #lee taeyong fanfic #lee taeyong smut #taeyong #taeyong fanfic #taeyong smut #nct #nct fanfic #nct smut #taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader smut #taeyong x reader fanfic #lee taeyong x reader #lee taeyong x reader smut #lee taeyong x reader fanfic #taeyong nct #nct taeyong #nct taeyong smut #taeyong nct smut

[thepencilnerd]

Pasta and Dinner Parties

"Edamame," Theo says.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Blaise’s face contorted quicker than a shifting boggart.

Another eye roll. “The pasta, it’s made from edamame.” Theo pronounces it with a certain twinge of pomposity that would have Percy Weasley reeling. Too many syllables. Vowels too lengthy. “Type of soybean, I reckon.” 

"IT'S NOT PASTA!" Blaise’s roar shook the walls of the foyer.

Pansy snorts into her mug. “I don’t know about you, but I think this dinner will go swimmingly.”

Draco and Hermione have reached a domestic milestone. They've finally decided to move in together. Draco invites her over for dinner, but what would a little Slytherin hospitality be without some sugar and spice?

Rated M for language and discussions of heavy topics in future chapters

Full fic + updates on AO3

"Luna sent a box of these over, wonderful isn't she?" If lovesick eyes had a picture to accompany the definition, Theodore Nott’s face would be front and center. In his left hand, he held an empty cardboard carton with a sticky note adhered to the front flap. 

Simmer for 10 minutes with a sprig of rosemary and a teaspoon of salt. Keeps away the balfspracks. 

Blaise rubs his eyes. It’s half-past five and he’s already had it with Theo. Had it. Patience wore down to the bone. Basta. Finite incantatem. In all honesty, he’d gladly throw himself in front of a flying—

A shorter figure crept up from behind. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she gives her boyfriend a peck on the cheek, which seems to loosen the wrinkles settling over his forehead. 

"Ladies," Pansy jests, mediating the arguments between the two as always. "I'm sure there's more than enough pasta to go around." 

"Not pasta," Blaise muttered. He tried to concentrate on the lingering warmth Pansy’s lips left on his face. The poor bloke sounded like he was about to hurl.  

At this, Theo rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “Yes, yes, yes, you can flaunt your Italian heritage some other time, now let me work my culinary magic!” 

Blaise takes a deep breath. High blood pressure, he remembered Pansy saying. Need to stay calm. "Mate, I love you, I really do, but if you don't tell me what those green things swimming about in my favorite crockpot are, you have another thing coming."

"You used a crockpot to boil pasta?" Pansy’s head popped up from behind Blaise’s shoulder. Her nose wrinkled like she’d caught a whiff of something foul. 

“Not pasta.” Blaise was a broken record.

Draco groaned from the living room. The headache from earlier evolved into a full-blown migraine by the time lunch was over. His eyeballs were absolutely throbbing. He jammed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets as if it would relieve any of the aching. To no avail. 

"Granger's coming over in half an hour and we’ve yet to transfigure a dining table." He verbalized his misery in as simple terms as he could. Sitting on the living room couch, he calculated the farthest distance from the kitchen and found himself just a few feet away. Problem with having a small flat. He couldn't find it in himself to raise his voice. Not with the demon baby currently going stir-crazy with a gavel in his skull. 

He questioned his level of sobriety when he agreed to this.

Meeting Hermione Granger’s parents had been less stressful than this. 

Introducing her to his mother was a Christmas tree full of Christmas presents compared to this. 

Sitting in a train compartment with 2nd-year Hufflepuffs sounded more bearable than this. 

Why, oh why, did he have to open his big mouth that night? 

“Seems proper that I’d at least get to share dinner with them before we move in together,” Hermione shrugged. Her hair was still damp from her—their—shower. Stray curls escaped, framing the curves of her face. Draco loved how her sheets always smelled like her soap. The scent of her shampoo was reserved for the pillowcases. 

“Come over for dinner,” he suggested. Quite impulsively, really. “Allow me to treat you to an evening of... Slytherin hospitality.” Draco’s trademark grin served him well. Resting on his side, Draco was propped up on one elbow with no shirt and sheet draped over his bottom half. She wanted to believe he was wearing briefs underneath. He looked absolutely wicked. 

Hermione scowled tentatively but surrendered with a smile. Her chest rose before she let out a sigh. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I’d experienced an inkling of that before.” Mirth graced her tone. 

The embers from the fireplace bounced off of her bare skin like rays of summer sun; warm and welcoming. Draco’s fingers fondled the strap of her bra, the only thing she was wearing, and earned a breathy giggle from her. Tugging the lace down, he sat up and started pressing a trail of kisses along her skin. Goosebumps erupted where his lips traced her flesh. The bath had stained her skin; she tasted of rosewater and honey. 

Hermione let out a hmph and tried to focus on the book she was holding. She developed a knack for knowing when he craved attention. Whenever Draco came over, he turned into a literal child. Always nagging and begging for her every time he got the chance. If she wasn’t superglued to his side, Hermione would bet a million galleons he’d throw a fit. 

“Turn around and face me instead. I don’t fancy being smothered by your hair while we sleep.” 

“How do you turn on the stove?”

“Granger, help me fix the antenna!” 

“Could you take a look at this spot on the back of my head? I might be balding.” 

“Granger, I think I nicked myself on the aluminium.” 

“If you weren’t wearing so many clothes, we’d probably warm up faster. Becoming a pair of popsicles isn’t exactly on my bucket list.” 

This time around, his demands were very clear. 

“Pay attention to me.” 

Hermione’s eyes shot up from her book. Shock painted her features like a splash of cold water. 

She blinks once. Twice. Three times for good measure. And then, her lips break into a blinding smile, pearly whites and all. The corners of her eyes curl into half-moons and her whole body shakes with glee. 

Sweet Merlin, he was fucked. 

Setting her book down on the nightstand, Hermione sits up straight and looks at Draco expectantly. He sits unmoved beside her. Staring. Admiring. Waiting. The cheeky grin that etches into her face is one Draco would give the world to see every day. 

Draco leans back against the headboard and stretches his legs out towards the foot of the bed. Scooting closer to her, she flips her leg over his awaiting lap. She’s straddling him in the span of two seconds. The feel of her bare flesh against his is utter bliss. 

Her arms wrap around his neck like a koala bear and her head nestles into the crook of his neck. Despite lathering him in her soap, he still smelled like Draco. All these years of dating and she still couldn’t put her finger on the bevy of aromas. 

Draco mirrors her actions like a reflection, one and the same. His arms make her feel so incredibly small when encased in them. Like a bear cub. Or a kangaroo in a pouch. Maybe mammals would be an appropriate term to generalize how warm and safe she felt in his embrace, but it wasn’t the most attractive or poetic—

“I thought we finished showering earlier,” he sighs into her hair. “Why is there steam coming off your head?”

She blows a puff of air into his neck and he jolts at the sensation. Ticklish. Draco knew that secret would die with Hermione and she was honored to keep it. Unless it served her in times of duress. 

“I was just thinking about how safe I am when I’m with you.” The tip of her nose brushes against the junction above his throat and feels his heartbeat, delicate but strong. 

Da-dum.

Da-dum.

Da-dum.

Pulling back, he slides his left hand along her cheek and she leans into it like second nature. Hermione raises her right hand and cradles it over his. The way it pales in proportion almost makes him break into laughter. When she presses open-mouthed kisses down his bare wrist, Draco resists the urge to take her right then and there. It’s too perfect of a moment to ruin. Not tonight. 

She’s even more tender when her lips reach his scar. The marred flesh that takes him back to his inescapable past. A reminder of everything wrong he’s been taught since childhood; everything bad in this world; everything wrong he’s done throughout his entire life. 

But more importantly, it’s a symbol of how much good was left in this dismal world. 

It’s a battle scar that reminds him that he lived.

Something that motivates him to keep trying. 

A reminder of how despite being swallowed by the darkness that plagued the world, he chose to hold onto light. 

A reminder of how above everything, he chose Hermione and Hermione chose him. 

He takes a moment to look at her, really look at her, and melts. 

Hermione is a vision actualized. He sees the dreams and aspirations swirl about her irises in flickers. Roaming freely and always there when you needed them. He wants to bask in them. Relish in them. In her. For as long as she’ll keep him, no matter how infinitely small or finitely large. He’d burn through galaxies if it meant seeing her happy and safe. Anything and everything he could provide for her was his to offer. She need only ask. 

Draco Malfoy was wholly and irrevocably head over heels for Hermione Granger.

Magic and might, save him. 

No really, save him.

What the bloody hell was that infernal yapping? 

"I, for one, thought it would be better to go to an Italian restaurant, but Blaise here," Theo quipped. “—wanted to dish out his non-existent cooking skills,” He paused to stir the pot. “At least Luna was kind enough to—”

Blaise stomped his foot on the kitchen tiles. Miracle they hadn’t cracked yet. There was no point in trying to hide his tantrum. “Just because my ancestors were Italian doesn’t mean I’m a master chef!” He narrows his eyes. “Honestly Theo—” The words die in his throat when Theo fishes out a noodle from the pot. Maybe it’s just his eyes playing tricks on him but he swears it flipping wiggles. “What in Merlin’s great magical kingdom is that abomination and why the ever-loving fuck is it green?” 

Pansy gave his cheek a pat. “Colorful, Blaise. Truly” 

"Edamame," Theo says. 

"The fuck did you just call me?" Blaise’s face contorted quicker than a shifting boggart.

Another eye roll. “The pasta, it’s made from edamame.” Theo pronounces it with a certain twinge of pomposity that would have Percy Weasley reeling. Too many syllables. Vowels too lengthy. “Type of soybean, I reckon.” 

"IT'S NOT PASTA!" Blaise’s roar shook the walls of the foyer. 

Pansy snorts into her mug. “I don’t know about you, but I think this dinner will go swimmingly.” 

A crash echoes from the kitchen and Theo lets out a screech that rivals grindylows. 

Pansy takes a long, calm sip. Likely pumpkin juice. Draco wouldn’t be surprised if it were laced with some pre-appetizer spirits. How she managed to deal with Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum was beyond him. Hell, he needed some right about now. At least to dial down the nerves. Not to mention the spike in blood pressure provoked by his flatmates. 

The remaining minutes pass like clockwork and before he knows it, the front door dings. Never has a bell sounded more menacing than now. Why is he so nervous? She’s met them a few times before and they’ve definitely shared rounds of drinks. No doubt, gone to Diagon Alley with Parkinson, Lovegood, and Weasley. The tolerable one. 

Did he clean his room? 

Theo promised to dust right after tea but the bloke was delusional about everything except Lovegood. A bit poetic, not that Draco ever cared to admit it. 

Pansy and Blaise stopped by the market yesterday and restocked the pantries and fridge. 

And then Luna dropped off her bag of goodies this morning. 

“She’s early.” Theo stuck his head out from the kitchen. Why was he covered in flour? 

So many questions. Draco didn’t even care to know the answers to half of them. 

“She’s always early when she’s excited.” 

The three stooges stand shell shocked and stare at Pansy. They just stare. 

She blinks like an owl and shakes her head. “Honestly, are you three just going to stand there or is someone’s boyfriend going to get the door?” 

Draco’s brain registers the words too late for his liking. He’s dead sober but his brain is all fuzzy. Just as she’s about to knock for a second round, Draco’s feet propel him to the door so fast a whip of apparition cracks. 

The door clicks open to reveal a dazzling frame. Hermione Granger is, to say the least, an unreal figment of everything good in the world. War heroine, member of the Order of the Phoenix, magical, academic, and practical genius, pure in mind and soul, and his girlfriend. His girlfriend. His. Donning a pair of black leggings and a flowing cream blouse, she’s bundled in a beige trench coat and blush pink scarf. Dark mahogany brown ankle boots boost her height by a few centimeters. Draco still overshadows her by a good head or two. Nevertheless, it’s a thoughtful effort. She’s holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. 

“Hello—woah!’ 

Draco’s arms are around her instantly and she’s brought into the house. His broad shoulders envelop her into a cloaked embrace that lets his scent wash over her. He never wants to let go. 

Initially surprised at the abrupt shift in balance, Hermione relaxes into his hold within seconds. He still smells like her soap and Draco and… smoking?

“Blaise!” a female voice shrieks. “Don’t just stand there Theo, do something!” 

A cloud of smoke—contained by a bubble charm, thanks to Pansy—swirls above the stovetop, large and foreboding. The source? A deep green crockpot placed on one of the burners.

Wait. Why is a crockpot on the burner? Hermione wonders.

“I told you we needed to salt the water and add the rosemary! Now you’ve got balfspracks all over the bloody place!” Theo’s voice changed from panic to mockery. He turned his nose upright and growled in a nasal tone. “‘Oh, salt is acceptable, but rosemary? Unacceptable. A disgrace to all cuisine Italian. May as well—’”

Draco pinches the bridge of his nose. By the end of the day, he’d probably have to ask Hermione to heal his bruises. “Bloody hell…” 

“Oh, it’s my fault now, is it?” Hermione realizes Blaise’s name suits him very well. Almost too well. In any other life, he might have been sorted into Gryffindor with that fiery temperament. “Next time we have a guest over, we’re ordering take-out. From Hogsmeade!” 

“Someone help me get rid of this burnt pot of—whatever the hell pasta Theo was making,” Pansy gags while trying to contain the swelling bubble. The scent is overwhelming. Something between seaweed and polyjuice. Perhaps a vile mixture of the two. 

“EDAMAME!” 

“NOT PASTA!” 

Draco can’t tell whether he wants to burst into laughter or cry. Maybe he’ll do both. Hermione was there to wipe away the snot or tears, regardless of whichever it would end up being. 

Giving him a chase kiss, Hermione placed the gifts in his hands and made her way to the lounge. Draco was going to kill them. He was going to kill them dead.

She pulled out her want and raised it towards the giant orb of smoke, confidence igniting her eyes. Her wand moved as if it were on its own, guided purely by magic and intent with an undeniable essence of Granger. She draws a broad circle that covers the entire room and summons the wisps of smoke like a magnet. The ashy tendrils of burnt food claw their way out of the floorboards and ceiling cracks, latching on for as long as they can before they’re drawn out Aiming towards the ajar door, the coils of smoke and singe are thrown out the entrance with a deafening gust. 

A single strand of hair falls out of her ponytail. 

She blows it out of her eyes with a single, deliberate puff. 

The corner of her lip quirks upwards the slightest. 

It’s so fast you’d miss it if you blinked. 

If Draco wasn’t so overcome with the urge to skin his friends, he’d dive in there right now and kiss her numb. 

The flat has returned to an atmosphere of calm. 

“Fucking finally,” Draco mutters out loud. Not intentionally but he doesn’t regret it one bit. 

Pansy, Theo, and Blaise resemble owls; wide eyes, unmoving bodies, twitching necks that swivel side to side. 

Theo breaks the silence with something along the lines of a chortle. “Welcome to our humble abode, Granger.” 

“Pleasure to have you here,” Blaise adds. His hands are still clenched around Theo’s shirt collar. 

Pansy is still trying to catch her breath having inhaled a hefty amount of the fumes. Blaise and Theo had probably tumbled around the living room enough to avoid the thick of it. Still, she refuses to let it impede on her hostess abilities. 

“Hermione!” Pansy coughs. “Why don’t you and Draco check out upstairs while—” she pauses to glare daggers at the two boys covered in God knows what, “—we deal with the mess down here.” 

Hermione draws out the excess smoke from Pansy’s clothes and hair with a swish of her wand. The next thing she does makes the three boys’ jaws unhinge. They bring each other into a warm hug and laughter rings in the air.

“It’s good to see you too, Pans,” Hermione breathes. Draco was definitely going to have a fit over this later.

Hermione gives Theo and Blaise a shy wave. Hopefully, they’d understand. In any other instance, she’d be more than happy to rid their clothes of the stench. They wouldn’t even have to ask. But this was Pansy Parkinson and if Hermione knew Pansy Parkinson, she knew that the Slytherin would want to drag on punishment as long as possible before even thinking of succumbing to forgiveness. 

Hermione Granger’s stubbornness coupled with her Gryffindor loyalty? 

She’ll be damned if she lets either waver when surrounded by friends. 

Draco clears his throat forcefully and offers his arm. “Upstairs then, shall we?” 

Hermione loops her arm through his and grins. It’s contagious and Draco already feels his anger ebb into affection. 

She speaks almost as lightheartedly as the wand movement for a levitation charm. "We shall." 

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione imagine #draco x hermione #theo nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #dramione fanfic #incorrect dramione quotes #hermione x draco #post wizarding war #crack fic #dramione headcanon #harry potter #hp quotes