savour
Since you could remember, from opening your eyes, your first words and steps. You were always around men. Not to the creepy kind that lingers around the school gates, or stumbles out of bars sticking of booze. No. Real men
Although, what is a real man? Is he strong? Courageous. Smart. Charming. No that isn’t what you would call a man. For you, a man is a protector and an equal. Someone who stands beside what he believes knows when he needs to back down, to accept when he was wrong. To fight for what’s right
You’re father, Ejiro is a man. And your hero. So were his friends his brothers in arms and your protectors. He was tall and strong, a leader and someone to follow blindly because you knew his virtues were right. He was in a gang of bikers, known as the Saints.
Everyone had their opinions on Biker gang. There were supposed to be the gangsters of gangsters, always getting in fights, lurking in the shadows. If you heard the engine of their bikes you will go running.
Everyone was wrong. They didn’t know there was a code. You stick to it or your out, no if or buts about it.
The code starts like this:
Number one: Family- it always comes first, no one gets left behind, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters stick together. You have each other's backs
Number two: No nonsense- a man, woman, child or animal, respect should be given where it’s due. You don’t tolerate shit from anyone, especially if the other person is clearly at fault.
Number three: Honour your bike- It’s your soulmate, and you protected it from any harm.
Number four; Stick to your principles and words- If you promised something to someone, that promise is etched in time. If you think what you’ve said is right, don’t turn back on your own words. A true biker stands his ground and trusts his/her instincts more than anyone else.
Number five; Protect those below you- Whether you know them or not. As a superior, it’s your duty to protect others
And number six; No Children- If children are involved, you save them, you guide them. You send them home
Unless they were born into it
You can leave the gang, sure. But you can’t just enter. It’s either a birthright or a marry-in.
Your father was in the gang, he was born into it, born a leader under his father. He was a man, the very definition of one. Your mom, she was married in. Love at first sight or something like that. It’s an amusing story, to say the least.
He was 18 at the time, driving around the street with his friend. Checking out his territory for trouble. He was determined to live up to his father's legacy to keep the crime rate down.
Then he heard something in the alleyway. Group of men, and a very angry woman. Like the man, he was, rushed to her aid, but by the time he had gotten there. They were all on the floor, teeth missing, arms were broken, black eyes and knocked on their asses crying for their mothers
“Pathetic trash” the girl spat, kicking the biggest guy in the guts, over and over again. Your dad ran over, to diffuse the situation and get her out of there. She mistook him for a thug.
He’d never been so happy to have his ass handed to him. So maybe it was love at first punch
“Oh shit... My bad” she apologises helping him back up. She took a glance at his jacket and raised a brow, “The saints huh… I’ve heard of you” she smiled, crossing her leathered-covered arms across her chest
“You have… wait a minute, I know that jacket. Turn around” his eyes lightened up and she smirked, turning around and lifting her long hair to reveal the emblem on her back, “the angels…” he mumbled and she turned back around and shoved her hand into her pocket
“You’re cute… be my boyfriend yeah?”, it was as if an arrow shot right through his chest and she had read his mind, “anything you want”
And so, they dated. She was an heiress and he was an heir. Their marriage brought together the two biggest biker gangs in Seol. then you were born.
Growing up you were surrounded by a large burly family. Everyone stood as tall as a wall and as hard as them. But you knew behind that wall was sunshine and rainbows, soft squishy walls and filed corner tables.
Every skimmed knee had those around you crying more than yourself. A missing tooth under the pillow left a pink bicycle by your bed
You weren’t just surrounded by adults either. You had your own little gang of friends. And by friends, you mean the little boys of the gang's children. Not one single girl. But that was fine. To them, you were a queen, a deity. Where you went they followed like a shadow, you get pushed off the swings, they’d scare the kids away with a glance
They were your brothers
You lived with them, you played with them, you fought with them. They had your back and you had theirs. They were your right-hand men. Still are to this day
When you were 9, you asked your mom to teach you how to fight. She started lecturing you for an hour, so you asked your dad and he agreed right away.
When you were 13 you could beat all your friends in mock fights. There wasn’t a drunk pervert who didn’t know what it was like to have your fist imprinted on his face. There wasn’t a bully who dared raise their voice to another
When you were 15 you were given your own bike to cherish for the rest of your life. But you found something equally important
“Hey! Fuck face!”, your voice echoed down the small passage behind your middle school where three boys stood all facing the wall. Two stood up, cigarettes in their mouth watching what you presumed to be their leader. He knelt on the ground something in his hand that looked like a pen held out towards the wall. You hated vandalism
The leather boots you wore clapped against the floor as you lazily walked closer, “Y/n! It’s you- you’re here!” one of the lackeys brightened up and jumped over and in front of you, in his hand a packet of cigarettes, the lid open and one already offering itself out
“Cheers” you take the single cigarette out and hold it out for him, gratefully he takes it- honoured to hold something for you. Meanwhile, you take the packet from his hand and slip it inside your leather jacket “W-wait-”, he speaks up, eyeing where you put the packet.
You raise an eyebrow, “got a problem?” his cheeks flush and he shakes his head, “good” you take the cigarette he held for you and put it between your lips, slipped out a lighter and lit i
You inhaled the deadly substance and lead your head tilt back at the rush, it lolled to the side and that’s when you caught sight of him
A young boy, pale-faced, shirtless and bloodied
You saw red. Red-blooded anger blurring your vision, the leader saw your eyes and stepped up. Now you were closer you could see what he held in his hand. It looked like… a tattoo pen? Only the tip was all needle, covered in skin and blood. Your eyes shifted to the boy, he looked like he was on the verge of throwing up. Yet his eyes told you to run
“What you up to?” you keep your tone low, it was just a question, “nothing much, just teaching this slave a lesson”
“This … what?”, you eyebrow twitch and he took a step forward, all too proud of himself, “you did that to him?” you ask, just to be sure, “yeah little punk thinks he’s all that, but he’s nothing compared to m-”, there was a flying fist and a sickening crack before his body his to the floor, your leathered boot entering his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He was spluttering and sniffling on the floor as you knelt down and grabbed his shirt, pulling his face into your fist. Blood rushed over your knuckles
“What!” one boy shouted, rearing his fist to hit you. Wrong move. You dodged, dropping his leader and grabbing his wrist, swinging your leg over his arm and bringing him down. You wrapped your leg around his arm, leaving your boots on his chest and his palm upwards *crack*, the boy screamed as the bones in his arm broke and you let him go
Swiftly you stood up and peered over at the last guy who stood in his place shaking, fists raised, “I’ll let you go since you bought me cigarettes… but” your foot sank into the leader's stomach again and he screamed, gargling on the blood and teeth in his mouth, “if I find out”, kick, “that you ever” kick, “EVER!” one last kick and you kneel by his disfigured face, “mess with another kid in this school..ha” you laugh but don’t smile, “I’ll have to stop my self from killing you”
You stood up and scoffed, “fucking hate bullies” you mumble and walk to the skinny kid. He just watches warily as you hoop his arm over your shoulder and lift him up, holding his side carefully as you want him away
“What’s your name kid” you looked down at him, he was pretty small. His face was still stern, but he still glanced up at you, “Euntae Lee” he responds, his voice was deep even for a middle schooler, “long ass name- you need a nickname” you shrugged him up a little more since he kept slipping, “you got a favourite hero or something?” you ask, and for the first time you see him emit an emotion
“Hero man” he answered proudly, and you hummed, “he’s alright, I prefer Vasco better” you shrug and he looks at you weirdly, “that’s his civilian name- I read the comics and liked how he was as much a hero as when he was a civilian than he was as hero man with the mask”, the boy listened closely to your words, drinking in the knowledge and consideration you had put into them. Whilst you spoke you carefully shifted a cigarette out of your pocket but heard him scoff, “smoking is for losers” he says and you chuckle, “yeah? Alright then” you shrug, throwing the packet into the nearest bin
“This where you live?” he peers up and sees the building, nodding affirmatively and goes to walk away but your grip tightens, “I don’t do half a job, my ma would be pissed if I didn’t walk you to your door,” you tell him and he nods again, letting you walk him to do the door
Once you were there and the bell had been rung, you noticed the panic in his eyes. Right, he was still shirtless and probably didn’t want his mom to see. So you shrug off your leather jacket and put it on his shoulders before walking away with a wave over your shoulder
Days passed and everything went back to normal. As usual, you and your friends attended school, knowing your parents would flip if you missed a day. A good leader needs to know math or something like that
The days were the same, only they weren’t. You didn’t see that little shrimp of a boy in the corridors or sitting at his desk as you passed his classroom on the way to the cafeteria. If you had to go to school. So did he
“Sick huh?” you repeat the words of the boy in front of you. His ears were his most noticeable feature, which made you itch yours as you thought, “right.. Cheers- what’s your name again?” the boy struggled to keep his eyes locked with yours
“Jace”, you hummed, “Easy to remember” is what you mumbled as you walked away thinking of your afternoon plans
That’s how you ended up at the familiar apartment complex, ringing the obnoxiously loud doorbell. Your boots dug into the cement as you peered down at the floor where you had rested your bags
The door opens revealing a middle-aged woman, she looked at you with curiosity, “can I help you dear?” she tilted her head and leant against the door frame, “I’m a friend of your sons” you pick up the bags, “I heard he was sick so I brought some stuff- my ma swears her life on it” you try your best smile and it seemed to work as the woman smiles back
“How sweet, come on in” she opens the door and moves aside letting you in. In respect, you take your boots off and neatly replace them for some house slippers
“Just down the hall, he’s got his door shut” she directs you with the direction of her arm, you nod and thank her before walking away
Without knocking you crack open the door and peer into the boy's bedroom, and slip in before shutting it. Without your boots, your footsteps are light as you walk to his desk ad place down the bags. You hear his move and groan from his bed, catching sight of you.
“You’re mom let me in” you explain without turning around. Instead, you take out some antiseptic liquid and cotton wool
When you turn around you notice the bloodied tissues around his pillow, peaking out, “are you going to let me help you?” he takes a deep breath, considering your offer, and pulls down the covers exposing his wounds, red and raw
You hum and try not to grimace, instead taking a seat on his bed beside him as you put some of the liquid anticipating on the cotton wool, “this is gonna hurt… sorry” you warn him and he nods, watching as you palace the cotton pad on his wound. You can feel his flinch beneath your fingertips and a small hiss coming from him
In a couple of minutes you had finished cleaning his wounds and had gotten up to get some gauze and bandages, he watched you closely as you come back over and start to wrap up his wounds, his eyes asking you questions
“y/n… my name is y/n l/n,” you say into the silence, knowing he was listening. You throw away all the rubbish into the bin and catch sight of your jacket neatly hung on his chair. For the moment you ignore it, instead going into your school bag to pick out a bow with a lid
You sit back down on his bed, although this time by his feet, and offer out the bow and the spoon, “my dad makes good soup, makes me feel better after a shit day”, he eyes it curiously before scooping with the spoons and blowing on it. Instead of watching him eat you decided to peer around his room
After he had finished, you wordlessly packed up all the stuff you had brought back into your bags and left. His mother waved you off at the door with a kind smile and sweet words
This occurred for the next couple of days. Making the trip to his house, then greeting his mother, taking your boots off, walking into his room, cleaning his wounds and re-wrapping them, giving him a bowl of soup, packing away and leaving. Without your jacket. A sign you would always come back
Only the next week, someone beat you to it. You walked into his room, placed the bags down and peered up to find some scrawny boy leering over him, holding his hands above his head
“Didn’t mean to intrude… I’ll leave you guys to it” you shrug, going to lift your jacket from his chair. As your fingertip grazes the leather, a hand wraps around the wrist making you look down at him, “don’t. Go”
You looked at the boy, whose name you remember being Jace, and he looked back at you confusion on his face, “okay… I’ll stay” he realised a heavy breath and sat back on his bed. Jace watched as you cleaned his wounds and re-wrapped them with care
That day, you had left, leaving your jacket behind
It was the week after that when news spread throughout the school. Students had run into your classroom making your brothers peers up at them, “y/n” the guy huffs trying to catch his breath, “there's a fight, in class C”
Chairs were thrown back and you were gone, your shadows sticking to your side. Brothers in arms
You reached class C, kicking the door open, “I thought I warned you” you scoffed, stepping in and over, the same leader crouched to the floor pen in hand hovering above Jace's stomach. One of his lackeys holding a bloodied Euntae.
Your brothers step in beside you, flanking your sides and stepping forward, “he’s mine… deal with rest please” they nod in unison
“I wasn’t ready before” the leader argues raising his fist, “but I am now”, you scoff, “drop the weapon. A real man doesn’t need one, his fists should be good enough”, your hands remain in the spare jacket you had been wearing in order to lessen your parent's suspicion
“Haa! Ya scared or wh-”, your heavy book kicked his wrist, sending the weapon scattering across the floor. You set your foot down and swing up the other, kicking your leather boot into his temple
“Why you bitch!” his friend shouted, but were cut off as one of your brothers jumped behind you raising his knee and hooking his head with locked fingers, forcing his nose into his knee. You heard more movement behind you, but didn’t need to turn around, another brother was grappling another guy's collarbone, forcing him to kneel before his fist landed in his face
Meanwhile, your foot was on the leader's chest, applying pressure before stopping, he choked out a breath and you reared you're to fist back, punching him square in the nose, your knuckles could feel the crack of the bridge. You peered back and hit him again, this time in the mouth. His teeth cutting your skin as you repeatedly punched him until there were more gaps than teeth
“Don’t” punch “ever” punch “lay” punch “another” punch “hand” punch “on” punch “my” you referred back one last time “family!”, your fist was stopped inches away from his, you looked up to see one of your brothers holding back your arm, another come rushing to grab the other and pull you away swiftly, “the code y/n… remember the code” one calmed you, “he’s learnt his lesson” the other chimed and you huffed, kicking the leader stomach one last time
You look over at the two boys you would call friends and tilt up your chin, “if you ever want to get stronger… come to us… any of us” your brothers look at you suspiciously, you knew the rules about the gang. You wouldn’t do that unless
“You like him don’t you!”, Harvey was sitting on his bike beside yours, you leaned forward resting on the bike, keeping one leg down to steady yourself, “no wonder you haven’t been wearing your jacket!” James speaks up, holding his stomach in laughter, you just scoff and hide your blush in your arms, “is that where you’ve been going for two weeks huh?” Jamie buts in, a snarky tone to his comment
“I’m marrying him”, you are your mother's daughter
The next week Jace was outside your classroom waiting for you to leave, as soon as he caught sight of you he was clasping your hands in his, “please y/n please!” he begged and you were irked, “fine…” you agree to the stupid idea. You wouldn’t mind getting another tattoo anyway
“Hey, uncle!”Jace had reluctantly gotten on the back of your bike and put on the helmet you offered him, he clung to you helplessly as you drove down the side streets. He looked around, not recognising the part of town you had been taking him to, it was biker territory. You pulled outside the tattoo parlour and jumped off your bike walking inside like you owned the place.
“Long time to see, come for another” the bloke sitting on the small black chair wore a similar jacket to yours, although it was older and more ragged it looked just as cool. His eyes peered up from the customers arm and over to you, a smile blooming on his face
“Couldn’t get enough uncle, not just tme this time” you gesture to Jace and he waves nervously. Your uncle raises an eyebrow at him, “a kid like you? Getting a tattoo- spill” he got back to his work as you pulled up a chair by the customer, the man raised his free arm to fist bump you and mess up your hair
“I- Uhm..” Jace suddenly dropped to his knees “it’s for my friend sir! He’s been bullied so bad that they engraved crude images onto him” your uncle stopped and looked down at Jace with a frown, the boy had his forehead on the ground, stopping him from seeing the sad exchange of a glance your uncle sent you. You silently nod to confirm
“He’s scared of needles and sharp objects sir! So I want to get a tattoo to make him feel better, to help him get over his fear!” a tear-eyed Jace looks up tot he man you called Uncle
“You’re a good friend kid, so I’ll do it. On the house”
And so Jace goes this bird tattoo, and you got your mother's old gang symbol on your shoulder blade. You now had to promise not to tell Euntae that you had to hold his hand whilst he got it
2 years later…
“I want to get stronger too… will you help me y/n?”, ah, that day. You remember it so clearly as you watched him walk across the cafeteria, a group of young men following shortly behind. The commotion from the fight disburse, it didn’t make a difference, you had no interest. Until he had walked in
He does catch you at first, but he goes directly towards the new guy. Rumours spread like a plague, only about his looks but you didn’t care. What good is a mask if what beneath is ugly?
You notice Vasco’s frown as he stands in front of Zack, who had apparently been causing more trouble. The latter squares up, it was over in a matter of seconds. Zack hit the floor like a sack of shit, which left Vasco standing in front of Daniel his eyebrows pinched and fists clenched at his side. In a blink to see his hand on Daniel’s collarbone. You feel your own eyebrow twitch and the annoyance rise inside.
Vasco catches you looking at him and stops in his tracks, his grip loosening enough for Daniel to take hold of his wrist. But you’d seen enough
You scoff and stand up, “excuse me”, your brothers watch you stand and collect your tray, before sliding their gaze in the direction they felt the burnin stare coming from
The boots that had grown up with echoed across the floor as you walked towards the crowd. You could feel the shadows of your brothers following behind you
“She’s going towards him” someone whispers, “Somone’s getting their shit kicked in” another, “It must be deep for the Saint to get involved”, god you hated this school, so full of gossip and whispers, no one had any respect for one another. What a load of shit
Daniel’s grip is tight, tight enough for Vasco to realise and pull his hand away, he takes a step back, bumping into you. He looks at you and opens his mouth
With a sigh you push past him, “Daniel” you stop in front of him, holding eye contact and reading his face although it only seemed like you gave him a short amount of recognition, “be good to Vasco”. You walk past him and kneel
“Zack” you sigh, gripping his hair and yanking his head up, “you need to learn to change or you won’t be dealing with Vasco” his face was scrunched up and somewhat discoloured, he’d been fighting again. Disgusting.
“Oh and…” your grip tighten causing him to groan, “don’t you ever lay a hand on either again” you drop his head to the floor and stand up, grabbing Vasco’s wrist gently and pulling him away
“Brothers” the boys all hum, coring their leather arms, “clean this shit up and make sure there's no more fights, I’m tired”, they all nod and look at the accused as you drag Vasco away
You stand in your classroom, the engineering department. Vasco sits on the stool with his head down. Holding his arm you overlook the red swelling that's starting to appear.
With a frown you kneel, taking his chin and forcing him to look at you with gentleness. His eyes were brimming with tears, “i’m weak” the tear slips down his cheek and you lift his arm, kissing over the sore redness, “Weakness leaves room for growth” you kiss it again and hold it against your cheek, he hand cradles you head as he looks at you, a sad smile on his face
“I’m still angry at you” you say, and watch another tear drip. Your hand takes his face and swipes the tear away, “we don’t fight fights Vasco- you know that” he sighs, “he’s been bullying someone, how can i not!” his voice raises but he doesn’t shout, he’d never shout at you.
You had saved him. You made im stronger. You made him who he was. And he used it for good, he tried to follow your ways, protect those beneath you. Over the last year, he’s bulked up alot, he’s gotten over his fears. All because of you
.
He wanted nothing more than to repay you for all you had done.
He knew you hated vandalism, so he joined the Architecture department, he got a part time job as a builder, when he wasn’t working out he was scrubbing vandalised walls.
He knew you liked art, you were good at drawing. He had your favourite pieces tattooed knot to his skin, a permanent reminder of you.
He knew how much you wanted to help other. So he went through the streets at night to save those in need- that’s how he met little Daniel
He did all of this. For you. And he’d rather be hung drawn and quartered than upset you
“Are you sure? You aren’t miss reading anything again. Have you seen him bully him, make him cry and bleed and beg for forgiveness? And most importantly… does he want help” Vasco’s head drops a little, you know the answer. He thinks with his heart and not his mind.
“You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved… and you know not to judge someone by their looks”, he sighs, “but Zack-” you shake your head, he’s not getting it
“Zack is learning, i’ll talk to Mira.. my brothers are getting the victims trust. Just.” you take a deep breatha nd rest you head on his leg
“Please. Stop.” Vasco’s hand hesitantly rested on your head, brushing away the hair and tucking it behind your ear, “it will catch up to you Euntae, and it won’t be pretty” he heard you sniffle, “i don’t want to see you hurt again”
“Then i’ll get even stronger, i’ll learn” it was his turn to brush away your tear and you smiled nodding into his leg
“This might be an opportunity to make chage, i think… Daniel is good. I can see it in his eyes”, you look up at him, and see the thoughts processing, “okay… i trust you”, you sit up and lean in close, brushing your lips against his as you kiss him gently, “thank you.. Now lets skip and go home- i can feel them staring” at the smae time you both peer over your shoulder to see your brothers huddled in one group, arms crossed and scowls on their faces, whilst Vasco’s burn knuckles were on the other side, all cheering and giving him a thumbs up
“i won’t hear the end of this” you grumble, standing up and fixing your jacket as you prepare to leave, Vasco is quicker, and determined to brag and show you off. He’s stadnding behind you, arms wrapped around your wasit and his chest pushed into the cold leather of your jacket. His face hides in your hair, you can feel the heat on his face form the embarrassment
“Fine, we can go finish lunch” you feel him smile and pull back a little, so his arm can rest around you shoulder
“Not… a… word” you grit, and your brothers all shivered, moving out of the way to let the two of you past. Vasco was stuck to your side, looking at you with adornment. His friends all smiled at you and Jace joins you on the other side, raising his fist for you to knock with your own, “Lunch on me?” the big eared boy says, smiling brightly, also talking oto Vasco but he was in his own little world
“I’ll have a coke” you mumble and walk ahead back into the cafeterie. The room falls silent at your endrance and Vasco doesn’t pull his gaze from you, opposed from his usual scowl, he had a soft look
“I don’t know how she does it” the girls whisper making you roll your eyes and walk to where you had been sitting before
“Hey Zoe?” Daniel whispers, its enough to gain the attention of the girl who was practically glued to his side, “yes danny” she bats her eyelashes but he wasn’t looking at her, “who’s that- she knew me”, the statement went much deeper than that
“That’s y/n L/n, the heiress to the biggest biker gang in Seol… the Angels Saint. Why? You know her?”, he was compelled to nod. But he knew he wasn’t supposed to, so he chose to shake his head, “no… just curious. Biker Gang you say? Are those guys part of it too” he’s careful to over look them in fear of one of them feeling his gaze, they seem like the type to sense it
“Yep, they’re he quote on quote ‘brothers’ they aren’t related, but it’s a gang thing” Zoe was looking at her nails, trying to act uninterested, when in reality she was more than
“And her and Vasco?” Daniel goes on, making Zoe’s eyes travel to you with envy, “no one really knows if they are dating or not… rumour is-”
“What’s it matter to you?” a voice came from behind them, making them jump. Shaking they turned around to see you behind them, their eyes shoot from where you were to where you are. Vasco was still in his seat, but turned around towards them, glaring.
“I- uh” you raised listening to the poor guy trying to make an excuse with eyebrow as you looked over to Vasco, who quickly turned round once you had spotted him
“I’m marrying that man” you answer
“Jace! Did you hear that! She’s going to marry me!” Vacso smiles and his body deflate, Jace catching him just in time, “You’re gonna cry so mcuh” Jace murmurs as a joke, “will not!”
4 years later…
“You’re ma’s a beauty isn’t she” he kisses the babes cheek and watches you glide towards him, “we ain’t… gonna.. Cry”
He lied. He cried proudly, Bikes purred loudly, a baby giggled playfully. You and Vasco had never been so happy