#especially the ‘you locked me in?’ part

[jimxnslight]

Fool's Gold || Part III

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

A/N: it's finally here! Sorry for the wait, things have just been really busy lately... but I hope you enjoy!

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Living with you has been an absolute nightmare.

Obviously Jungkook had known that dropping poison in his champagne and whiskey wouldn’t be the end of your little assassination attempt; he’d expected you to continue doing whatever was in your power to make good on your threat. He may have been a little cocky about it too, teasing you over the fact that he was standing before you unscathed, but the logical part of him still knew to keep his guard up constantly. 

What he hadn’t realised was how exhausting it would all be. 

You’d been here only four days and Jungkook had already had to evade poison in his toothpaste, a suspicious looking pin wedged into the insole of his shoe, and garlic juice in his cologne- the last one seeming far from a homicide attempt and closer to just pissing him off. 

Dealing with that alone was one thing, because it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. But on top of it all, Jungkook hadn’t slept properly in days. He’d found himself dozing off for a few minutes here and there while holed up in his office at night occasionally, but he had mostly just stuck to spending his nights working, especially on the Park issue. He couldn’t risk actually sleeping in his office considering he knew that you had the ability to bypass the lock. And besides, as much as he would appreciate a few extra hours of sleep, Jungkook still had to be ready for if Jimin decided to attack again, even if he’d been quiet so far.

One of those preparations involved speaking with your father, which was why you and Jungkook were seated in one of the guest houses at 8:00 AM in the morning while your father was sat casually on the creme-coloured settee across from the mahogany coffee table before you both. The guest house was situated near the gates of Jungkook’s estate, still within its borders, but far enough that it had its own entrance and ensured guests wouldn’t end up too close to his house, just how he liked it. 

The initial meeting with your father had been awkward, though Jungkook may have been the only one to catch onto it. Your father hadn’t embraced you or kissed your cheek or told you how much he missed you, instead he had sent a formal nod in your direction before giving Jungkook a firm handshake. After that your father had barely spared you a glance, addressing Jungkook as if he were the only one in the room. You didn’t seem very offended by this either, your gaze instead drifting around the space looking almost bored as the two men conversed casually for a few minutes. 

It was an interesting detail, one Jungkook tucked into the back of his sleep-deprived mind. 

“The differences between the North and South have surprised me a ton,” Mr. Lee commented, taking a sip from the teacup in his hand. His accent was rough, no doubt a product of his upbringing in the South, “you guys do things a lot more softly here in the North.”

It was a jab, Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough not to know that, especially knowing how rough things were in the South. That comment was enough for him to know that your father was the type of man that liked to put others down to make himself seem superior. It only amused Jungkook though, because as per the culture, your father already had a bit of an upper hand since he was older, and yet he still felt the need to talk down to him.

Distantly, he wondered if your father’s personality had something to do with why you decided to hide your true personality even from him. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” Jungkook decided to reply dryly, not bothering to bite back. If he had learned anything, it was how to choose his battles, and an ego trip was not worth it in his books. 

Instead his gaze drifted towards your seemingly aloof form. It was a bit unnerving to see you look so quiet and proper, almost like he was being shown a third side of you. Your facade was still definitely up though, no one could miss the slight widening of your eyes and faint pout of your lips to feign an innocent look, but this version of your act was definitely more placid. 

Jungkook’s gaze travelled back to your father as he smiled, a sudden urge to get you to react overtaking him, “it’s definitely been an adjustment for your daughter.”

At your mention, your wandering eyes were reeled back to meet the gazes of the two men before you once again, but, unlike during the dinner with Taehyung and Chaewon, that was the extent of your reaction to the obvious dig. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction as you continued to sit silently beside him, an innocent expression still painting your already heavily painted features. 

Despite the topic, Mr. Lee’s gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook, “hope she hasn’t been too much trouble. She used to be quite the spitfire growing up, but thankfully I fixed her right up before she could bring that attitude into adulthood. Can’t imagine how I would’ve gotten her married if I hadn’t.”

The room became quiet as Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his place, your father’s words, which sounded so casual on his tongue, unable to settle comfortably within him. Jungkook wasn’t so naive as to believe that “fixed her up” alluded to gentle parenting and stern lectures. And if his guesses as to how your father might have disciplined you growing up were correct, then you had his sympathies. Jungkook’s childhood wasn’t exactly filled with rainbows and butterflies, the son of a mafia leader’s childhood never is, but everything his father had done was for the betterment of the Jeons, not so Jungkook could be a good slave to a spouse. 

“No,” he finally decided to answer, “she hasn’t been any trouble at all.”

If your father’s comment had bothered you, you didn’t show it. But Jungkook was still eager to change the subject. 

Before he could, however, he was surprised when he felt you straighten up beside him and beat him to it. 

“How is Hannah doing, father?”

Despite all his research, Jungkook had no clue who Hannah was. He’d never even heard of the name before, which he found surprising considering how well he made sure to research the Lees before his marriage. Nevertheless it was clear to him that whoever this Hannah was, she was important. You’d asked the question with your usual soft voice, a casual hint in your tone, but Jungkook had known you long enough at this point to see past your act. He could see the way your gaze had turned calculating, taking in each and every expression that flitted across your father’s face as he took a sip from his teacup before he finally allowed himself to take you in. 

“She's doing fine,” he answered after a moment, voice void of any emotion, “very fine actually.”

Jungkook didn’t miss the subtle jump in your eyebrows at his words, so subtle that he doubted your father would notice it even though he was finally acknowledging your presence. 

“But you should start worrying more about this place, Y/N. This is your home now after all.”

Your gaze immediately dropped at his words as you gave him a timid nod, ditzy Y/N clearly back in full swing. Most would have witnessed this interaction and seen a loving daughter being rejected by her cold, heartless father. But looking past your act of innocence, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel that there was more to this interaction than that. The relationship you had with your father was weird. If Jungkook hadn’t known either of you, he wouldn’t have guessed that you were more than mere acquaintances with how distant you both seemed. No love, no animosity, just… impassive.

And yet, despite this clearly uncommunicative relationship, you’d spoken up only once in this entire conversation to ask about a person named Hannah - or rather you had wanted confirmation about something regarding Hannah, and judging from the way your expression had returned to that naively bored look, you had gotten the confirmation you were seeking. Neither of you had offered to identify who Hannah was to Jungkook either, so he doubted asking would prove to be very useful. 

If only Jungkook had the mind to figure everything out on his own at this moment. He’d already had to stifle three yawns since the beginning of the conversation, all of which he was able to hide only because your father had initially seemed very interested in scanning the contents of the guest house. Hopefully he’d get better at hiding his exhaustion as the day progressed, he had a long day ahead of him after all. 

Your father caught Jungkook’s attention once again when he leaned forward to place his empty teacup on the mahogany coffee table in front of him. The teacup clinked against the wood before he leaned back into the settee, giving Jungkook a questioning look. 

“So, now that we’ve got the chit chat out of the way, why’d you need to see me so desperately?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Jungkook ignored the arrogant structuring of his words once again, gaze instead drifting to you, who was keenly scanning the front page of a newspaper that had been haphazardly placed on the coffee table to give the room a more homey feel. 

He wasn’t entirely sure whether you knew anything about Jimin’s attack on the West Docks. Yes, you had broken into his office once, but Jungkook didn’t leave important stuff like that just lying around so technically you didn’t have any way of knowing about it. Jungkook preferred if you didn’t, because obviously the less you knew the better. You were trying to kill him after all, and as much as he liked to make a joke out of it, he wasn’t dumb enough not to at least partially take it seriously. 

So Jungkook shifted in his seat to face you, the action catching your previously wandering attention, before he placed a hand on your knee. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hesitant, but thankfully you didn’t flinch at the contact. 

“Why don’t you go freshen up, princess? Your father and I have some business to discuss, and then after that you and I have somewhere to be.”

Jungkook watched your eyebrows twitch, though whether it was from the nickname or in question of where the two of you would be heading he didn’t know. But then your gaze flickered to your father’s direction for a moment before you quietly nodded. 

You stood from the settee, ignoring the way Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your knee, brushed against your skin as it fell. When you faced your father, hands clutched before you, he was already looking up at you with a familiarly indifferent expression. 

“It was nice seeing you again, father,” you said formally, keeping your voice light and soft as you offered him a small bow. You were returned a formal nod, another familiar action, before you turned away from the two men and pushed through the double doors of the guest house. 

A deep sigh escaped your lips the moment you heard the door shut behind you, feeling as though someone had lifted an anvil off your chest. Your father’s presence had always felt suffocating, you were just glad that the two of you being in the same room has also always been a rare occurrence in itself. 

You didn’t have time to dwell on that fact as the beauty of Jungkook’s estate now stood before you in all its glory. Lush green grass surrounding a stone walkway, colourful flowers popping out of strategically placed beds, and large, but maintained, Japanese Maple trees scattered here and there were all organised neatly to form a breathtaking courtyard. 

This was the one thing you could unconditionally appreciate about Jungkook’s estate. Most leaders’ estates screamed money with the various marble statues of themselves and their families littering their front yards and excessive landscaping drenching the flowers and grass in stone and metal. But Jungkook’s was filled with greenery, as if you were walking through an enormous garden. You loved it. 

While surveying the area your gaze dropped to the stone pathway before you, the one you and Jungkook had walked through to get to the guest house and also the one you were certain Jungkook was expecting you to take after being kicked out of said guest house. You stared at it for no more than three seconds, not even bothering to think it over, before you spun around in your spot and pressed your ear to the door you had just emerged from. 

There was something wrong. 

Although alliances were a very uncommon thing in the South, you were still smart enough to know that business deals between allies should be eased into slowly, not started four days after a marriage. This meeting was happening way too soon, which made you doubt it was business-related at all. 

Jungkook needed something from the Lees. The only question was what?

After leaning quietly against the door for a few minutes, you were only able to pick up a few words here and there between quick stifled yawns. It would’ve disappointed you if it wasn’t for the one name you managed to catch Jungkook say as clear day.

Park Jimin.

The leader of the Parks. The man whose close friend consisted of the ruthless Min Yoongi, leader of the Mins. Both mafias were located north of Taehyung and Jungkook’s territories. Personally, you’ve never heard of any ongoing disputes between the four, but if Jungkook was mentioning Park’s name in a meeting with your father, there had to be something going on. 

That would be perfect, because if you killed Jungkook while he was having a feud with Jimin, then Jungkook’s death would be more likely to be pinned on Jimin, allowing you to bear no consequences and be sent back to the Lees without a scratch. 

Except… it wasn’t perfect, because killing Jungkook had proven to be a lot harder than you had anticipated.

Killing your first husband had been child’s play. Even after you’d grabbed the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest, his men had taken one look at the scene and ruled you out before you had even had the chance to construct a detailed tale of an assassin that had come through the window and shot him dead. They had been complete idiots, entirely unable to see the doe-eyed girl with frilly pink dresses and a soft airy voice as anything more than that. 

But this case was an entirely different challenge. You’d realised on the very night of your wedding that the people around Jungkook, as well as Jungkook himself of course, were not as stupid. You knew that if you tried to pull the same stunt again, you’d be pinned for the murder eventually. It’s why you hadn't even bothered to search for some kind of weapon in Jungkook’s mansion, nor had you tried to steal the gun you knew stayed sat on Jungkook’s waistband at every moment of the day. If you used a weapon to kill Jungkook, you’d be caught. 

That’s why you had stuck to poisons as your main choice of weapon. The collection of toxins you had managed to smuggle into the mansion, all thanks to Persilla of course, was made to make kills look like nature’s fate. Yet, despite dropping toxins into anything that could possibly make contact with Jungkook’s mouth or skin for the past four days, your efforts were proving to be futile. Jungkook’s knack for catching onto small details was just a difficult barrier to overcome. 

You knew H hadn’t sent you that note to pressure you into speeding up Jungkook’s murder, and you hadn’t taken it in that way at first, but now that four days had passed you were beginning to think about changing your methods. It would be more complicated, but you needed to get this done quickly. 

A gun would be the best way to finish him off in your opinion; it was the one weapon you were a master of and getting a hold of one shouldn’t be too difficult with all the guards milling around the estate. Then all you’d need to do was get Jungkook alone, shoot him dead, and then plant some evidence that pointed towards the Parks. You’d need to be careful, but it was doable a-

“Now look what I’ve found.”

You snapped away from the door and whirled around, startled entirely as a male voice suddenly spoke up from behind you. You were met with the view of a man, one you’ve never seen before, standing a couple metres away from your form, his hair as light brown as his eyes. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, while the buttons of his white polo shirt were open to reveal a sliver of his neck. 

“I seem to have caught a nosy little mouse.”

You wanted to ask him who he was and what he was doing here. Anyone within the gates of Jungkook’s estate had to be close to him, you’d learned that much during your stay here. Yet, Jungkook had failed to mention this man at all. 

But before you could voice your questions, the man stepped forward, brown dress shoes tapping against the stone beneath you both, and held out a hand, “I’m Daehyun, Jungkook’s cousin. We haven’t formally been introduced.”

Tentatively, because you still had an act to uphold, you reached out to shake his hand, making sure to keep your grip weak, “I’m Y/N.”

Then you remembered that eavesdropping on a conversation between Jungkook and your dad may not seem like the most innocent thing to Daehyun. So you quickly mustered up a believable excuse. 

“I swear I wasn’t trying to listen to their conversation! I just…”

You paused, pretending to shy away from him to give the illusion that you were embarrassed to admit the blatant lie that was about to escape your lips.

“I just wanted to know if Jungkook would talk about me,” you said, keeping your gaze on the ground as you started fidgeting with your fingers, “he’s not the most talkative man with me, so I just wanted to see if he would admit anything to my father.”

“Mhmm,” Daehyun replied, and you couldn’t help but feel that the tone of his voice gave the impression that he wasn’t paying attention. Finding that strange, you lifted your gaze from the ground hesitantly and observed him. The sight made you grimace inwardly. 

Daehyun’s lack of interest could be explained by the fact that he was too busy raking his eyes across your body, taking in your bare legs and neck, almost as if he were entranced. You noticed his fingers twitch as he took in the frills of your pink dress and the silk bow holding up half your hair. 

“God, you don’t look a day over 19,” he commented, as if you weren’t even there and he was simply talking to himself, “how old are you, darling?”

This was far from the first time a guy had looked at you as though you were a piece of meat. In fact, your act seemed to garner a lot more attention from the male species than it should. You liked to think that all the years of this had made you immune to moments like these, but deep down you knew it still made your skin crawl.

That being said, the implications of Daehyun’s words were beginning to register in your mind. This was Jungkook’s cousin, his family. It was customary for all male members of mafia families to have a gun with them at all times, which meant that there was a very high probability that, if Daehyun were to turn around, you would catch sight of a shiny black gun wedged into his waistband. He didn’t seem like the intelligent type to you either, which meant this would be a better opportunity to steal a gun compared to snagging one from a constantly alert guard. 

All you needed to do was get him a little closer to you. 

“Twenty-three,” you finally answered, keeping your voice soft and innocent-sounding. You took the opportunity to take a timid step forward, one that seemed to go unnoticed by Daehyun.

Instead he nodded, as if in approval of your answer, “Jungkook really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t he… I expect you’ll age beautifully. Lucky bastard.”

You pushed down the urge to throw up in your mouth. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t think you had it in you to lead him on in order to steal the gun. He was just way too slimy, saying things that were way too gross. 

But turns out, you didn’t really need to say anything as Daehyun took another step towards you, leaving only a hand’s length between yourself and him. You automatically felt yourself tense. If it were up to you, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine. But you were ditzy Y/N at the moment, and ditzy Y/N couldn’t fight back. 

Instead you tried to focus on the gun. He was close enough that you could snake your arm behind him without him noticing, but he still needed to get a little closer for you to grab it. 

“Relax, darling,” Daehyun soothed, and to both your distaste and relief he placed a hand on your shoulder, closing the distance you needed. Your hand crept forward slowly, stopping at his waistband, “you don’t need to be so tense-”

“Daehyun.”

Crap.

Your empty hand shot back to your side as your gaze snapped to the source of the voice, Daehyun’s following suit less quickly. Jungkook was shutting the door of the guest house behind him, dark eyes fixed on the hand on your shoulder. His voice had been low, the threat in them evident. Yet, Daehyun smiled, instead taking his time in removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. 

“Jungkook,” he nodded, his hands returning to his pockets, “your wife and I were just having a small chat.”

You searched the space behind Jungkook, finding no sign of your father. The guest house had two exits, one that led into Jungkook’s estate and another that led outside of it. Your father must have gone through the latter. 

Jungkook gained your attention once again when he took a few steps forward, his sharp gaze fixed on Daehyun, “you can talk without touching.”

Daehyun raised his hands in mock surrender as Jungkook paused in front of you, scanning you from head to toe for a second, before he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away from him, barely sparing him another glance as he started on the stone pathway you knew led to his mansion. There was this one patch of the pathway that you noticed hid the two of you from the attentive eyes of the guards. You took that opportunity to drop your act of innocence. 

“Cousin of yours?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. 

“Unfortunately.”

Your brows furrowed as you watched Jungkook spit out the word through gritted teeth, keeping his face forward. He was angry. He didn’t like Daehyun, you realised. Yet he seemed to have free access to his house? That didn’t make any sense.

You watched the patch eventually give way to a large circular driveway that laid before the front doors of Jungkook’s mansion. There was a sleek black car already parked on the grey concrete, obscured slightly by the fountain in the circle’s centre. It probably had something to do with what Jungkook was talking about earlier, about how there was somewhere the two of you would be going. 

With your innocent facade back up, because you noticed guards milling around this part of the estate, you turned to Jungkook with a curious look, “where are we going?”

He paused for a moment as his gaze dropped on you, and you immediately knew he was choosing his next words carefully, making sure to pick the ones that only allowed you to know as much as he wanted you to. 

“We’re going to meet some families,” he finally answered, but you’d already become distracted as you noticed a guard walk up to the window of the black car and begin speaking with the driver, the exposed gun at his hip suddenly looking very attractive to you especially after your failed attempt at snatching Daehyun’s. 

“And why is that?” You asked him absentmindedly, wondering if there was any way you could grab the weapon. You’d only need to brush past the guard for a moment to grab and shove it into the holster at your thigh. You knew the frills of your dress would do an amazing job at hiding its outline as well, even from eyes like Jungkook’s.

“There was an accident at the West Docks and a few workers died. We’re going to meet with the families and pay our respects.”

Your attention snapped back to Jungkook, the reminder to keep your expression light coming just a millisecond too late. It was a practically microscopic reaction, but it was enough for Jungkook to pick up on, making him tilt his head in question.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked without much thought, because you honestly didn’t have anything smarter to say. Why was a mafia leader paying respects to people who weren't part of the family?

You weren't an idiot; it was no coincidence that Jungkook mentioned an incident taking place at the docks around the same time he had a meeting with your father in which he was mentioning Park Jimin’s name. You’d pieced together that said “incident” was more likely some kind of attack, and the one responsible for said attack was probably Park Jimin. If Jimin had attacked Jungkook’s docks, then that meant he was testing how strong the Jeons were at the moment, which further meant that he was interested in taking over the territory. Obviously Jungkook would have wanted to ensure that he had your father’s support if things were to escalate. 

People would have died in the attack at the West Docks, that’s how it always worked. Hell, people died at the borders all the time in the South since there was so much animosity between the territories there. 

But that’s just how things worked, or at least that’s what you’d heard mafia leaders parrot to each other growing up. “They knew what they were signing up for.” “They’re doing it for the sake of the mafia.” It was the kind of thinking that you loathed, and that exact thinking that you hoped to dismantle bit by bit until everyone, not just you, could see the flaws behind it. 

Yet… here Jungkook was, saying he wanted to value those lives lost by paying respects to their mourning families…

It was unbelievable. 

However, before either of you could speak, the door of the parked car opened to reveal a man wearing a standard suit. He stepped out onto the concrete, only to turn around in his place and open the door to the backseat. He continued to stay like that, patiently waiting for the two of you. 

Jungkook was the first to move, walking around the car to open the door himself and disappear behind the sleek black metal, while you eventually followed behind him, giving the man a soft thank you before sinking into the backseat beside your husband. In a matter of seconds, the doors were shut and you felt the car begin to move beneath you. 

There was an unfamiliar silence as you peered through the tinted windows, watching as the car passed through the front gates before submerging into a thick forest. The four days you’ve been at Jungkook’s mansion had been full of constant bickering, that was until someone else would enter the room. Then suddenly you were clasping your hands in front of you and bowing with a soft smile, all while Jungkook hid his cocky grins. 

“What? No snappy comebacks today?” Jungkook spoke, probably feeling the uncharacteristic silence as well. Despite noticing that there was a divider between the driver and you both, meaning there was no reason for you to keep your act up, you didn’t answer. 

You didn’t know why his earlier words weren’t sitting well with you. Just because Jungkook dropped a few condolences here and there didn’t make him a good person. He was the leader of a mafia after all, and you’d met enough of them to know the kind of people they were: cruel, merciless, and lacking in respect for the ones outside their families. Even the level of care they had for their families was questionable. 

But still… this was throwing you off.

You turned around in your seat as a sudden thought came to mind, causing Jungkook’s gaze to shift from the window to your form. 

“What do you mean by paying respect?” You asked. Perhaps the phrase meant something different in the North. Perhaps instead of meeting the families and expressing empathy for their loss, he was going to lecture them on the need for martyrs and how the families owed the Jeons for letting them live in their territories. Yes, that made a lot more sense to you. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, was looking at you as if you’d gone insane. 

“I won’t even begin to answer that question,” he scoffed. But then he seemed to consider something for a moment, probably the fact that you would also be the one paying respects and not knowing what that was might be a hindrance to his perfect image, and spoke with an annoyed sigh, “we will be meeting with the families, relaying a few comforting words. Let them know that we will be supporting them from now on so they can focus solely on overcoming their grief rather than on how they’ll make ends meet moving forward.”

You turned back to your window with a frustrated breath, his answer doing nothing to dissipate your confusion. You might have also faced away from him to hide a stifled yawn. Car rides tended to make you sleepy, and in combination with the fact that you haven’t slept properly throughout your stay at the Jeon Mansion, it was taking a lot of willpower to keep your mind alert at the moment. 

“Considering that this will be our first official public appearance, I should also repeat how crucial it will be for you to act like a good wife.”

You rolled your eyes as a huff escaped your lips, “Yeah, I get it.”

“If you getting it means you’ll act better than the way you acted in front of your father, then good,” he commented, which made you turn to him once again with a brow raised. 

“What is that supposed to mean? I was fine in front of my father.”

Jungkook shrugged, “you could have been better.”

“How?”

He thought for a moment, mulling it over before he responded with an amused look, “when you were leaving the room, you stood up and just let my hand fall away to the side. Some would take that as a sign that you’re mad at me.”

“I am not going to kiss the ground you walk on just so that a few jobless people will keep their mouths shut,” you shot back. If you were having any qualms about killing him earlier they were entirely gone now. You were going to enjoy each and every moment of gutting the man at your side, not even the slightest hint of guilt.

“Not to mention how quiet you were,” he continued, but this time you could feel the weight of his gaze deepen, “you do know that we’ll have to actually speak to the families, right?”

There was a silent curiosity in his eyes that he didn’t voice, but you knew it was there, though for what exactly it was for you didn’t know. Was he questioning why you were so quiet? If that were the case, you didn’t have an answer; you hadn’t even realised you’d been so quiet during the meeting. Or was he curious about Hannah? You doubted it. With all the research he had done on the Lees and your territory, you guessed he already knew who she was. 

“Relax, Jungkook,” you waved him off, “I’ve been acting as someone else for years. You’ll get your nice and loving wife.”

With that settled you turned back to the window, stifling another yawn with your hand. 

-

-

-

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the fact that you were actually waking up, meaning that at some point during the ride you had fallen asleep. The second thing you noticed as you were waking up was that whatever thing you were leaning on did not feel like the inner side of a car door. That second realisation had you sitting up in your seat instantly, eyes shooting open to understand the situation. 

Outside you could see that there were no longer thick-trunked trees surrounding the road in which you drove on, instead replaced by groups of houses and small apartment buildings. You watched as kids playing in the roughened streets stopped to stare at the sleek black car, their parents no different as they tried to see through the tinted windows with unfiltered curiosity. 

You turned away from the window to take in Jungkook, whose shoulder you realised you’d made your pillow while you’d fallen asleep, only to have your eyes widen. 

To your surprise, Jungkook had fallen asleep as well, with his head resting back against the headrest and lips just slightly parted. Small puffs of breath rhythmically escaped from between them when he exhaled, a telltale sign that he truly was asleep and not just resting his eyes or something. 

The image had you frozen for a moment. He looked so… peaceful. Not that he always looked stressed out. Despite having a killer for a wife, Jungkook seemed to be pretty relaxed most of the time, amused even. But this was a different kind of peace, one that came with a complete lack of thoughts, making him look almost innocent - not the hard leader that you knew him to be. 

Without his gaze on yours preventing it, you also noticed things that you’d never really noticed about him before. Like the length of his eyelashes, or the strong dip of his jawline. His lips had a red undertone and rounded into a slight pout, while his skin was flawless - not a very common characteristic amongst leaders, though not many were as young as Jungkook - aside from the end of a faded scar peeking from behind the collar of his black shirt. The side of his hair that was facing you was slightly ruffled, as if his head had been leaning against something before it had moved to lean against the seat behind him. 

God this man was fine. 

You forced your gaze forward, realising that you were staring. Were you really so deprived that you were finding the man that you were supposed to kill hot? Well, in your defence, you had eyes. Also in your defence, the leaders in the South were all old and slimy dudes that should have been put down years ago. Just looking at Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air after drowning.

But then you paused, realising the weight of the situation. Jungkook was asleep, the same Jungkook who you knew had a gun wedged into his waistband at this very moment. It was risky, he’d definitely notice it missing when he woke up considering his attention to detail, but if you were to grab the gun, and then immediately get out of the car, he’d have no choice but to let you hold onto it until the two of you were out of the public’s eye. It would be more than enough time to secretly kill him and then plant evidence incriminating Jimin. 

Judging from the houses outside, you deemed that you both were close enough to the destination that you could hop out of the car immediately after it stopped. So you turned around, making sure to keep your movements as slow as possible, before you snaked an arm around his torso. You could feel the soft inside of his black blazer as your hand slipped beneath it, fingers just barely ghosting over his equally black dress shirt. It was unlucky that his gun was on the side of his waist facing away from you, but thankfully after checking to make sure he was still asleep, which he was, your fingers wrapped around the metal handle. 

Or at least you thought he had been asleep, because as you pulled the gun from its confines, a hand suddenly engulfing yours made you flinch. 

Your gaze snapped up to him, surprised when you found him wide awake and staring back at you. In all honesty, it wasn’t the fact that you were caught that had you frozen like a deer in headlights, Jungkook was well aware of your intentions, but rather the position that you were in. You’d used your left hand to grab his gun, which left your entire front to be pressed against his chest, while your right hand was resting on his other side, practically caging him against the seat of the car. Barely a breath’s distance separated your face with his, making the intensity of his stare all the more intimidating. 

You tried to pull away from him, but his hand brushed higher to wrap around your wrist and keep you in place, dark brown eyes still boring into yours.

“Put it back.”

It shouldn’t have, but the deepness of his voice sent a tiny shiver down your spine, one that you did everything in your power to make sure Jungkook couldn’t notice. You’d rather be caught dead than having Jungkook think you were into him in any way whatsoever. 

A small part of you, the same one that had persuaded you to drop a good amount of garlic into his cologne just yesterday, also reasoned that you’d never be caught dead taking orders from him as well. Logically speaking, there was no way you could save this attempt at taking his gun, he’d caught you and that was that. And yet, despite that, you didn’t move, hand still clutching the gun which was now hovering over his waistband. 

You felt Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around the soft skin of your wrist, the lack of your movement not going unnoticed by him. 

“Put it back, Y/N.”

It only made you want to do the opposite, just to piss him off a bit more, but you knew you were only delaying the inevitable. So, with the tiny devil at your shoulder retreating back to wherever it had come from and with a frustrated breath escaping your lips, you slowly pushed the gun back into his waistband. The action was slow, still dragging it out for as long as possible, until you felt the trigger guard push against the edge of the cloth. Yet, even when you let the handle drop from your grasp, Jungkook’s hand didn’t drop from your wrist. Instead, the edges of his lips twitched upwards.

“So we’ve moved on from poisons now?” He asked instead, voice low as his satisfied gaze stayed fixed on yours, “is my whiskey finally free from your terror?”

Your reply was quick, though your voice was just as low and breathy as his, “I wouldn’t start trusting it just yet.”

You really meant that, considering the new bottles of whiskey Jungkook had ordered had already been spiked not even an hour after they’d been placed in his cabinet. You knew that he knew, making the action pointless, but you were weak in front of that little devil at your shoulder. 

The abrupt sound of the car’s door opening made you jerk back into your seat, ripping your empty hand from Jungkook’s, as you quickly fixed the ruffles in your dress. By the time the driver’s face appeared at the doorway, you were offering him an innocent smile, making sure to keep your eyes bright and lips stuck in a perpetually delighted turn. An amused breath escaped Jungkook as he turned to open his own door. You hadn’t even realised that the car had come to a stop. 

You accepted the driver’s hand as he extended it towards you, the short heel of your white shoes tapping against the grey concrete while you stepped out of the car, grateful suddenly for the fresh air. 

You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting when Jungkook had said that you were going to meet with families. Mostly you had pictured a stage, one that he would stand and speak on, and then a crowd of families standing before it paying close attention to his every word. But there was no such stage in sight, in fact, as you looked around the area you noticed that there was nothing out of the ordinary; just a simple neighbourhood with kids playing in the cracked street and parents standing in their worn front porches. Everyone was staring though, curious eyes staying fixed on Jungkook, and then on you. 

It was a bit daunting if you were being entirely honest with yourself. Yes, you were the daughter of a mafia leader, but you’d never actually been made to make public appearances like this, much less speak at them. Daughters of leaders were more like decoration pieces, hidden away until they were married off. 

Jungkook rounded the car until he was standing at your side, an arm wrapping snuggly around your waist. The action had been hesitant, as if he expected you to push him away or flinch at the touch, but you were beyond trying to fight whatever image of perfection Jungkook was trying to sell; there were bigger issues you needed to worry about now. And maybe a tiny part of you found comfort in it as you noticed all the eyes that were on you now. It was your first public appearance in the Jeon Territory after all, everyone would be curious about the Jeon Jungkook’s new wife. You needed to appear shy for the sake of your act, but you were still able to notice the mixed reactions, some confused, some sceptical, but most were just surprised. 

Jungkook also seemed to be scanning the crowd before he turned towards you, whispering the words in your ear, “let’s get going.”

You didn’t have time to notice the fuss that action had caused in a group of girls before you both began following a guard into a house on your right. He guided you through the doorway, the door already wide open, as you made your way towards what seemed like a living room. The space had a homey vibe, pictures of the family scattered across the walls and lit candles placed on the tables, but it was clear that whoever lived here was struggling: the paint was peeling off the walls, the wooden floor was littered with scuffs and dents, and the furniture looked a day away from crumbling. It pained your heart to see the kitchen barren. 

It was only when you and Jungkook managed to squeeze into the small living room that you finally noticed signs of life. There was an old woman sitting on the only sofa in the room, her expression dejected while her form was hunched forward in a way that you knew was a result of grief and not old age. At the sound of your footsteps her head raised, taking in the two of you with pained eyes. 

You had to mask your surprise when you watched Jungkook lower himself onto a knee before her, “hello Mrs. Hwang.”

The woman, Mrs. Hwang, ignored the greeting, instead shaking her head while keeping her gaze on the hands resting in her lap, “I don’t understand. They keep telling me he’s gone, but I just don’t understand… How could he be gone? How could my beautiful son be gone? What happened to him?”

“Mrs. Hwang,” Jungkook said slowly, his brows pulling together in sympathy, “your son and a few other workers were killed in a construction accident at the West Docks. I’m sorry.”

The tears that had been swimming in her eyes finally began to stream down her cheeks, the news coming from the leader of the Jeons finally confirming what she had seemingly been denying for a while, but you could only try to fan the flames of the anger that ignited in your chest. There was no construction accident, there had been an attack orchestrated by Jimin, and normal people who had nothing to do with the territorial feud had suffered the consequences. This poor woman, for example, had lost her son. She deserved to know the real reason he was gone, deserved to belt out her anger at the actual people responsible, not be fed a cover-up story you knew was only being promoted in order to prevent public unrest.

You watched as Jungkook tried to reassure her, his words artfully compassionate and reassuring, wondering just how much of those words he actually meant. He probably didn’t mean many of them, if any at all. Perhaps this was the method in which he maintained his power? Leaders in the South usually asserted their power by ensuring the public feared them, scaring them so much that even the thought of betrayal had them shaking in fear. But Jungkook was a smart man. Perhaps he realised that being loved by the public was a better method of manipulation, one that produced more loyalty. 

You’d been so deep in thought that when you felt the tap of Jungkook’s black dress shoe on your white ones you almost flinched. He was looking up at you with a pointed look, and it was then that you realised that the woman was staring at you as well, as if she were waiting for you to speak. Jungkook’s words, genuine or not, seemed to have stopped the tears that had been flowing down her cheeks while you’d been distracted because there was almost nothing left of them except the water staining her cheeks. 

Sensing your confusion, Jungkook gave Mrs. Hwang a strained smile, “you must excuse her, she’s still getting used to the North. It can be overwhelming at times.”

Mrs. Hwang nodded in understanding before she turned to face you once again. 

“That’s okay dear. I was just wondering how married life has been treating you. My husband passed away so long ago yet I still find myself missing the companionship even now.”

Oh… 

That was not the kind of question you hesitate at if you want people to get a good impression of your and Jungkook’s relationship, and the look on Jungkook’s face at the moment only confirmed those thoughts. 

“It’s been treating me well,” you answered finally, hesitating on what the right thing to say would be in this situation, “he’s been very good to me.”

It was the wrong thing to say, you realised that at the exact moment Jungkook grimaced and tears started to stream down Mrs. Hwang’s face once again. She nodded in your direction, “my husband treated me well too. How I miss him… And now my son is gone as well, who do I have left?”

Your voice died in your throat, mind unable to come up with anything that could possibly comfort the bawling woman who had lost so much. All you could do was stand dumbly and watch her crumble before you, wishing you could crawl into a hole and stay there forever hidden. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, immediately placed a hand on her knee and began to reassure her once again, comforting words falling from his lips like a gentle stream. He reminded her of how her son and husband were in a better place now, of the friends she still has in the neighbourhood, and then of her granddaughter who needed her to be strong. 

At the mention of her granddaughter, the door of the living room suddenly smacked open, revealing a little girl skipping into the room. She was wearing a sparkly pink shirt and washed out jeans which were fraying at the edges, while a worn doll hung from her fingers. Despite this, there was a bright smile on her face as she walked deeper into the room. 

The sight of Jungkook slowed her down in her tracks, replacing the once innocent smile with a deep blush painting her cheeks. Her gaze shifted away from him, clearly shy from her sudden crush. But then she caught sight of her grandmother and her gaze became worried. She made her way to her side quickly before gently placing the doll on her grandmother’s lap, also placing a comforting hand on her arm.

“Don’t cry grandma,” she said with a frown, using her other hand to push a few strands of her grandmother’s hair behind her ear. The girl turned in Jungkook’s direction, though the blush was back and her eyes wouldn’t meet his, “I keep telling her not to be sad, but she keeps crying.”

It was then when she caught sight of someone else in the room, making her turn to face in your direction. Her reaction was immediate, eyes lighting up in excitement as she took in your dress, then your shoes, and then your makeup. The girl quickly jumped from the side of the sofa and skipped over to you, eyes wide in childlike amazement. 

“Your dress!” She squealed, continuing to skip in a circle around you as she scanned you from top to bottom, “it’s so pretty! I’m going to ask Daddy to get me one just like it when he comes back!”

The last sentence felt like a hammer to your chest, and you could see Jungkook’s expression also sadden from behind her. How long would it take this little girl to realise that her father would not be coming back? That his life had been taken from him only because of the cruel way in which this world was structured?

Before you could think much of it, you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, knees touching the cold wood as you became eye to eye with the excited girl before you. It gave her the opportunity to marvel at your hair and the light sparkles on your eyelids, her small hand brushing against the frills of your dress softly as her excitement only heightened. 

“You look just like a princess!” She continued. But then a thought seemed to strike her, suddenly making her shy, “do you think I could grow up to be a princess like you one day?”

You smiled at her, using every bit of your self control not to cry for this little girl and her innocence, “I think you’ll grow up to be an even prettier princess one day.”

Her smile brightened again, her confidence restored in that quick way only a child’s confidence could. You wanted that confidence to stick though, knowing just how quickly the cruelty of this world could destroy it . 

“But do you want me to tell you a little secret?” You asked, to which she nodded hastily, also desperate in that way only children were. 

“You don’t need pink dresses and sparkles to be a princess.” You gently took hold of her hand, giving her tiny fingers a comforting squeeze. This new information seemed to shock her, her eyes widening as a surprised gasp escaped her lips, “what matters is your heart. Your grandmother lost someone very dear to her, and she’ll need someone to help her get through her sadness.”

The girl straightened up immediately, chin rising as if to meet the challenge head on, “don’t worry, Daddy always makes me in charge of helping grandma. I’ll always take care of her.”

“That’s very responsible of you,” you praised.

“I am! I’m very-” She struggled with the words for a moment until she finally seemed to manage the beast, “responsible!”

An amused breath escaped your lips at her childish confidence, despite the sorrow tugging at your heartstrings. 

“And when you realise what you’ve lost,” you continued, this time speaking to the girl she will become when the devastating news finally hits her, “your grandma will be there to get you through it as well. You won’t be alone, okay?”

She nodded innocently, the weight of your words flying over her head. But that was okay, she’d realise their meaning when the time came. You could only hope that they would provide at least some comfort when it really mattered. 

Without another thought, you reached behind your head to unravel the silky pink ribbon in your hair, making sure to smooth it out before you held it out to her. She squealed in delight, grabbing the ribbon and softly running a hand over the silk material. 

But then she suddenly looked up from it and threw her arms around your neck, the spontaneity of the action causing you to flinch. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She continued to squeal, “I think you’re the best princess in the world!”

With her chin laying on your shoulder, your gaze automatically met Jungkook’s as your hands hesitantly raised to rest on her back. He was still kneeling in front of Mrs. Hwang, but his hand had dropped from her knee to his own, realising that it was unneeded as a fond smile was overtaking her expression at the sight of her happy granddaughter. Jungkook’s expression was unreadable as he watched the girl jump excitedly in your embrace. 

The two of you only stayed a few minutes longer, only because the girl had insisted that you tie the ribbon in her hair, before Jungkook stood and cleared his throat, a clear sign that you both should get going. You hadn’t even realised how heavy the atmosphere had been in the house until you were walking through the doorway, finally able to take in a full breath of fresh air. A guard was already standing before the front door, turning around to lead you both to the next house when he noticed your presence. 

“Well… that was interesting,” Jungkook commented, his face turning in your direction to meet your gaze. 

You were quiet as you followed behind him, making sure to pull your act back up in the process. You hadn’t realised that it had sort of dropped when you began speaking to the girl, the heat of the moment enough to make you forget. 

You didn’t turn to meet his gaze, instead scanning the area and people that surrounded you both as you spoke, “I’m not very good at it.”

His head tilted in question. 

In hindsight, you should have told him earlier, but perhaps you were a tiny bit embarrassed of it. Now, though, the cat was out of the bag, so there was no point in trying to hide it from him now.

“The wife thing? The hugging and laughing and kissing? I can do that,” you finally admitted, “but comforting? I’m not the best at it.”

That was an understatement, but you were sure Jungkook probably knew that by now. His gaze felt heavy as he watched you for a moment, studying your expression. Then he turned away, keeping his eyes fixed before him as he spoke words you were not expecting in the slightest.

“You did alright.”

-

-

-

It was early in the evening when you and Jungkook finally visited the last house, the sun just barely visible above the horizon when you had crossed over the street to follow behind the guard for the last time today. You had visited at least 20 houses, all of which weighed your heart down more and more until you had felt like you were dragging it against the concrete beneath you. Some had lost their son, their brother, their husband, all of whom were important not only because they were loved, but also because they had been the sole provider of the family. You committed each grief-filled face to memory, promising that pain like that would be a thing of the past. 

It only made you more determined to accomplish your goal. 

Now you stood behind Jungkook as he spoke to a woman in her kitchen, listening attentively to her describe the kind man that was her late husband with a bittersweet fondness. His expression was sympathetic as she spoke, nodding every so often with a gentle smile, while the woman thanked him again and again for being here and helping them. 

If your observations proved anything, people certainly respected him around here. Whenever he would pass by in the street or when he spoke with the families, you watched many bow in his presence or express their gratitude for him. But no one ever invaded his space, and they definitely didn’t try to speak to him unless spoken to. It was all in all a respectful appreciation for the man they thought was a good leader. It was such an odd sight to you, being so used to people in the South trembling in fear in the presence of a leader, that it seemed almost foreign. 

Your gaze travelled around the room as you continued to stand with your hands clasped in front of yourself, casually surveying the small area while simultaneously making sure to absently follow the conversation in case you were spoken to. After your visit to the first house, you’d decided that it was best if you stayed as quiet as possible seeing as you were a trainwreck when it came to comforting people. Sure, you’d sort of saved yourself when you had spoken to the little girl, but you had clearly said the wrong things when you’d spoken to Mrs. Hwang. It was an embarrassing shortcoming on your part, but you also couldn’t really blame yourself. It’s not like you had any examples from when you were growing up to draw on. 

You were pulled from your thoughts, however, when you noticed a quick shadow flit in your peripheral vision, making you discreetly turn your head in that direction. For a moment, the doorway in which your gaze had settled on was empty aside from a guard who stood still in front of it, to the point that you thought you had imagined it. But then a fluffy black tail slithered from behind the wall, making you freeze in place. The tail brushed against the wooden floor before its owner turned around, the familiar face and collar moving into view. 

Persilla’s feline eyes stayed fixed on you as she sat herself down for a moment, tilting her head as she watched you meet her gaze in surprise. She was going completely unnoticed by everyone else in the room, though that part didn’t surprise you. That cat was a master of camouflage after all. She was only seen when she wanted to be. 

Which was why her presence had you wondering what she was doing here. 

The answer to that question came when she suddenly stood, walking dangerously close to the guard as she crossed him and made her way into the hallway slowly. She easily blended into the shadows as she paused and turned back for a moment, making sure that you were still watching her, before she finally slipped into one of the rooms which had a door that was slightly ajar. 

The message was clear to you: she wanted you to follow her. 

You glanced at Jungkook and the woman, who were still deep in conversation thankfully, before you silently shuffled to the doorway where the guard was standing idly. 

“Excuse me?” You spoke, voice soft as a feather. The man’s firm gaze shifted to you, “is there a bathroom anywhere that I could use?”

You could feel Jungkook sneak a glance in your direction, but the woman was still speaking with him, keeping him occupied. You’d made sure to keep your voice loud enough so that he could hear the bathroom excuse though, not wanting him to suspect anything. 

The guard nodded and began to guide you down the same hall Persilla had walked through. Then, to your relief, he stopped in front of the door she had disappeared behind, unknowingly making your life much easier. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at him before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You immediately began to survey the small space, taking in the toilet and small sink, but your brows furrowed when you failed to find your favourite black cat. 

You kneeled before the sink to open the cabinet underneath it, frowning when it also was empty. 

“Persilla?” You whispered, so silently you could barely hear yourself. 

That was when you took notice of the window beside the sink. It was high up and blurred, but what really made you pause was the fact that it was open. Perhaps Persilla had jumped out of it before you’d entered the room? If she was expecting you to follow her, though, she clearly underestimated your size…

You flinched backwards when she suddenly dropped from said window, paws soundlessly making contact with the tiles before she circled your form. When she was satisfied she sat in front of you, showing you her neck. Once again, wedged between her fur and collar, was a small folded piece of paper. 

“He better not make a messenger out of you,” you practically mouthed with a grumble before you reached out and slipped the note from her collar, unfolding it curiously. The handwriting was familiar as your eyes scanned through the words, though there was only one person the note could be from anyway. 

I heard he has a knack for detail, so I’m assuming that’s why it’s not done yet. No problem. But we really should meet soon, there’s something I need to tell you. (I would’ve let myself in now, but your husband is waiting right outside the door so I had to make good use of Persilla) 

~ H

P.S. I left you a little gift in the toilet tank. I think you might like it. 

Your brows furrowed at the last part, gaze immediately shifting to the toilet in the corner of the room. It was a standard two piece, one with a removable back cover that made it easier to access the tank. 

You pushed yourself off the tiled floor and made your way towards it before grabbing the heavy cover and hauling it upwards with a strained huff, eyes immediately scanning the inside. There were shiny metal pipes intersecting with each other and valves protruding in some places, but it was a black handle wedged between the mess that caught your eye. You grabbed it and pulled it out of the tank, easing the cover back into place with a smile. 

Finally…

Delight was all you could feel as you rotated the shiny new handgun in your hand, taking in its familiar shape. You pressed against the release button first, catching the magazine expertly in your other hand as it popped out of the handle and checked its contents. It was full of ammunition, allowing you to push it back into the gun in satisfaction. Then your attention shifted to the silencer that had been screwed into the gun’s barrel. It wouldn’t entirely silence a shot, but it was still better than nothing and it could definitely come in handy. He knew you well, didn’t he…

You unscrewed the silencer from the gun and then shoved both into the holster at your thigh, making sure to smooth over your dress quickly. One look in the mirror had you satisfied, even eyes like Jungkook’s wouldn’t be able to tell there was a gun concealed under here. He would have no clue what was coming. 

You crouched down to scratch Persilla’s chin, promising her some good salmon for being such a good girl, before she jumped out the window and scurried off. Unable to contain your own curiosity you walked over to the window and gave it a quick glance, but there was no one in sight. 

Just as you had been told, Jungkook was standing right outside the door when you opened it after flushing the toilet and washing your hands to give the illusion that you’d really used the bathroom. You weren’t surprised when you watched his eyes dart behind you to carefully scan the bathroom, but you knew there was nothing to see. Everything that mattered was now strapped to your thigh discreetly hidden underneath your dress. 

“Checking the bathroom after a lady uses it is a bit much, don’t you think?” You couldn’t help but comment, keeping your expression innocent as you noticed the guard standing patiently at the end of the hallway. 

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction, but there was an amused turn to his lips. You maintained your expression as you felt his arm wrap around yours and pull you closer, whispering the words into your ear as he began to guide you out of the house, “and trying to kill your husband isn’t?”

“A woman can’t have hobbies?”

He steered you along the street, passing by crowds of people who stood at a distance around the neighbourhood, as you both made your way back to the car. Because of that you had to keep a smile on your face as you spoke, despite the nature of your words. 

Jungkook raised an eyebrow to pair with his smile, aware of the crowd’s eyes on you both. There was no doubt that, through their eyes, you both looked like a nice couple speaking about nice things, far from the truth of course, “there are many husbands that wouldn’t be so understanding about your particular hobby. I think I deserve some credit.”

“Dead men don’t get credit.”

“Good thing I’m not dead yet, princess.”

You wished you could shoot him a nasty glare to wipe the cocky grin off his face, but you could only watch him innocently as he opened the door of the black car and waited for you to get in, an arm resting on the top of the car’s door nonchalantly. Taking the opportunity, you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving the impression that you were thanking him for the gesture, but instead said, “I wouldn’t count on that for long.”

Jungkook shut the door behind you in amusement after you sat in the car, ready to join you in the backseat until he felt his phone vibrate suddenly against his thigh. He stayed standing on your side of the car, resting a hand over its top as his other hand went to grab the phone out of his pocket and bring it to his ear. 

“What have you got for me?” He asked, casually surveying the area as he waited for a response. His brows furrowed when he heard the person on the other end of the line hesitate before he spoke. 

“Hello sir,” he finally said, to which Jungkook huffed, knowing whatever was about to be said wasn’t going to please him.

“Out with it, I don’t have all day.”

The man on the other end of the line sighed, “I was just contacted by the informant who has been working on what you ordered him to do…”

Jungkook frowned, remembering how he’d asked the informant to investigate your room and the man you’d been having hushed phone calls with before your marriage. He had wondered why it was taking the informant so long to get back to him, but Jungkook trusted the informant with his life, that’s why he had placed him in the Lee mansion in the first place. If things were being delayed, there was a reason. 

One that was about to be explained to him right now. 

“The informant just told me that he wasn’t able to identify the man.”

Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened at the news, brows furrowing even further, “what?”

“He said he searched through Mrs. Y/N’s room from top to bottom, but was unable to find anything out of the ordinary, nor anything related to the mystery man. Then he traced her prior phone calls, but none led to anywhere significant. The only thing the informant was able to figure out was that the man goes by the letter H.”

Jungkook mulled over the information for a moment, tapping his finger against the hood of the car while deep in thought. H… that was practically nothing to go by. Why were you talking to a man that seemed so untraceable? What did he have to hide? What did you have to hide?

Jungkook’s jaw ticked. 

“What do you mean tracing the phone calls led to nowhere significant?”

“He explained that the locations were all scattered. Some were in the South, some were in the North, some were in the western and eastern regions, and a couple were even outside the country altogether,” he explained, then seemed to hesitate on his next words, “the informant mentioned that there were a couple locations that may seem slightly promising, but he admitted that he doubts they would prove to be very useful.”

“Tell him to send you the locations, and then send some men to check them out,” Jungkook said immediately.

His gaze dropped on you, who was already staring back at him from your seat. 

“That man is not a ghost. We’ll find him, whether he likes it or not.”

-

-

-

Unlike earlier, you nor Jungkook slept as the car raced through the highway, nothing but the darkness of night visible from outside of the window aside from the occasional streetlamp. You’d already been on the road for about an hour or two, the entirety of the trip drenched in silence. 

Jungkook clearly had something on his mind, you could tell from the way his eyes were clouded over in thought as they stayed glued to the window. You hadn’t been able to hear what he’d talked about on the phone, so you’d settled for deciphering his expressions. He’d seemed frustrated by something he’d been told, that was as much as you could make out. 

The weight of the gun on your thigh felt heavy, the need to grab it and use it itching against your fingers. Technically speaking, you had an opportunity right at this very moment. You could shoot Jungkook dead, bang on the divider to get the driver to stop the car, and then shoot him dead too before he put two and two together. It would be simple, and you’d also be able to run to the nearest sign of life and dramatically explain how a man associated with Park Jimin had hijacked the car and killed Jungkook and the driver, leaving you alive to relay the message. They’d buy that in a second. It would be perfect.

The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would have to kill the driver. Jungkook was a mafia leader, and mafia leaders were cruel and merciless. He deserved what was coming. But this driver… he was just a guy doing his job. He might even have a family waiting for him at home, and after the day you’d had, the thought of another family losing someone dear to them made you squirm in your seat.

Realistically, you knew your goal couldn’t be complete without the deaths of a few innocents. But even that thought wasn’t enough to get your fingers to grab the gun at your thigh. A frustrated breath escaped your lips at the lack of your action, one that of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. 

“Someone seems frustrated,” he commented, the first time either of you have spoken after entering the car. You rolled your eyes, refusing to face him. But Jungkook continued to observe you intensely, giving you the impression that he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end so easily this time. 

“You know, you seem so adamant on killing me,” he said slowly, “if I’m going to have my wife perpetually working on my death, I think I at least deserve to know why she’s so passionate for the cause.”

It didn’t go over your head that he was suddenly so interested in your intentions after that ominous phone call, and you had no problem calling him out on it, “I heard you had an interesting phone call earlier. Maybe you should focus on that instead.”

“I am. I’m trying to find a pesky man that goes by the letter H, you wouldn’t happen to know him would you?”

You froze, surprise freezing your limbs as you wondered where Jungkook had gotten that name from. Had you messed up somewhere? You’d burned the first note you received and flushed the second down the toilet, so there was no way he could have gotten hold of them. Besides that, you’d never uttered his name out loud since marrying Jungkook. No, there was no way he could have found out from you. 

Jungkook smiled, as if reading your thoughts, “it seems you do.”

You shrugged, trying to collect yourself, “H knows everyone and no one.”

“But you know him better than others. Tell me, is he the reason you want me dead?”

You turned to meet his gaze, the taunt in your voice evident, “maybe you should find him and ask him yourself.”

“I will. He won’t be able to hide from me forever.”

You chuckled, answer instant, “doubtful.”

That made Jungkook tilt his head at you, an evident question. 

“He’s only found when he wants to be found. Otherwise, he’ll have you running in circles like a clueless pet.”

For some reason your words seemed to irritate Jungkook as you noticed his gaze narrow.

“You seem pretty fond of him.”

You didn’t answer, your gaze instead drifting back to the window. Up until now you’d been driving through a thick forest, the concrete road surrounded by enormous trees that seemed to extend into the sky. But the window on Jungkook’s side showcased the trees starting to dwindle, empty patches emerging in the thicket occasionally until they finally gave way to a grand view of the ocean. If you squinted your eyes enough you could make out a large docks system in the distance, full of enormous ships and warehouses. 

The view had caught your eye though, distracting you from the sorry excuse of a conversation you were having with Jungkook. It was the light that had initially caught your attention, more specifically the sheer intensity of it. The docks were lined with the same street lamps that were brightening the road you were currency driving on, yet it looked like someone dropped the sun into one of the warehouses. 

At first you thought perhaps you were overthinking it, but then Jungkook followed your line of sight, peering critically through the window for a moment before he suddenly sat up straight. It was then that you saw it as well; at the edge of one of the warehouses, a roaring fire was beginning to destroy everything in its vicinity. It was only visible now because it had moved on from behind the warehouse, engulfing the structure itself at an alarming rate. 

A sudden explosion shook the docks, so powerful that you could feel the vibrations of the shock despite your distance from the area. At that moment you felt the car screech to a stop, the momentum pushing both you and Jungkook painfully against your seatbelts for a split second, before Jungkook’s phone suddenly started to ring. 

He picked it up on the first bell, not bothering to hide the call from you this time. You could hear loud sounds erupt from the phone the second the line was accepted, a man’s voice barely audible above the chaos. 

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked hastily, eyes glued to the wreck. He looked as if he wanted to jump out of the car and run to it, but the distance was far too large for him to get there at any reasonable time. 

The man on the other line grunted for a moment, yelling orders to another before he shouted, “sir! There’s been a few explosions at the West Docks! Three of our warehouses have been destroyed, we’re trying to staunch the flames in the fourth one at the moment!”

“Forget it,” Jungkook shook his head immediately, “order thirty guards to the area to make sure there aren’t any actual threats around and to help out with the flames. And take anyone who’s injured to the hospital right away.”

“Of course, sir!” The man on the other line shouted instantly, but then he hesitated before he spoke again, “but sir… who could have done this?”

Jungkook was silent, and you knew you both were thinking of the same man’s name. 

“Just do as I’ve said. I want the least amount of casualties possible.”

There was an incoherent sound on the other end of the line that resembled a “yes sir” before it went dead. Jungkook’s hand instantly went to brush through his hair, the gears in his head clearly working overtime as he seemed to be deep in thought. Before you could say anything though, his phone rang again and this time your eyes widened as you got a clear view of the caller ID. It was the man that you both were thinking of not even a full minute ago. 

Park Jimin. 

This time Jungkook did wait to pick up the call, instead staring at the screen for a few seconds longer than he should have. The silence in the car stretched, nothing but the sound of his ringtone reverberating throughout the small space, as you noticed his muscles tense under his black suit and the grip on his phone tighten to a point that you were sure it would snap the thing in half. This was probably the most tense you’d ever seen him look. 

Jungkook finally grabbed the handle of the door and threw it open, stepping out of the car without so much as a sound. You watched him close the door behind him, only pausing for a moment to say something to the driver before you watched him disappear into the thick forest on your side of the road, leaving you and the driver alone in a dark and empty road. 

Wow… he really did not want you to hear that conversation. 

-

-

-

Jungkook cut through the trees of the forest, the sound of his ringtone practically mocking him as he continued to walk way deeper than he knew was necessary. He couldn’t help it. Park Jimin’s mere name angered him, and cutting through the trees of the forest was helping him direct that anger onto something unimportant. Because he wouldn’t be able to let it out on Jimin. He had to be calm, collected, and even amused in front of that bastard, nothing that could give away just how well Jimin managed to get under Jungkook’s skin. 

But he eventually came to a stop, realising that he couldn’t go traipsing through the forest forever. The phone still vibrated against his hand as he relaxed his muscles, slipping into the Jeon Jungkook that was unbothered and coolheaded. The one that wouldn’t allow Jimin to have the upper hand because of his practically ancient anger.

Jungkook brought the phone to his ear and, finally, accepted the call.

The line was quiet for a second, as if Jimin expected Jungkook to say the first greeting, but he was just as quiet, forcing Jimin to be the conversation initiator. 

“Hello Jungkook, I was just calling to confirm if you received my gift or not.”

His voice was just as melodically taunting as Jungkook remembered it from years ago, the words instantly causing him to clench his jaw. But he relaxed it once again, knowing that he needed to stay clear headed.

“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin.”

“How can I not flatter an old friend?” And Jungkook could practically hear the smile in his voice, knowing how much the mention of old friend would make his blood boil. It did, but Jungkook pushed down the feeling of strangling him through the phone.

“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?” He asked, knowing full well what the attack meant. But he was interested in how Jimin would explain it, whether he would put it plainly or jump around the topic like a coward. 

The line was silent for a second, as if Jimin were choosing which angle he wanted to go by, before he finally spoke again. 

“Why don’t we speak about it over dinner?“

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, the words catching him off guard. How could Jimin be inviting him over to his territory so easily, after years of silent animosity? Sure, Taehyung and Yoongi have been at each other’s throats the past few years, Taehyung constantly having to fight off the Mins at his border, but the border between the Parks and Jeons have been silent, much like their leaders. 

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “you’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”

“Yes, I believe it’s time we settle a couple things, don’t you think?”

Settle a couple things was much too ambiguous of a phrase for Jungkook to decipher. Did he want to sort out the terms for a war? Or was Jimin beyond morality now and instead going straight to setting a trap? Jungkook wasn’t really sure what Jimin was capable of after the warehouse of bodies he’d witnessed a week ago. 

His doubts kept him from speaking, allowing nothing but the serene sounds of the dark forest around him to fill the silence. Jimin seemed to sense his hesitance, letting the silence stretch for only a few moments before he chuckled into the line. 

“Come on, Jungkook. What will it be?”

-

-

-

This was an opportunity.

Currently, your husband was alone, surrounded solely by trees, in an environment dark enough that you could very much get away with shooting him dead and not being blamed for it. You wouldn’t even need to shoot the driver to cover up your tracks, lessening your guilty conscience to a decent amount. It was perfect. The only issue now, was how you were going to get into the forest without arousing suspicion. 

You tapped on the divider, waiting only a couple seconds before you pulled the panel down to reveal the professionally dressed driver. 

“Excuse me? I need to use the bathroom,” you announced, trying to sound as urgent as possible while simultaneously keeping your voice naive. 

The driver, on the other hand, looked as though you’d slammed him in the stomach with a sledgehammer. 

“Ma’am…” He spoke hesitantly, “you’ll have to wait.”

“But I need to go nowww,” you whined, trying to put every bit of spoiled brat into your voice as you could. Then you turned your face towards the forest Jungkook had disappeared into, widening your eyes to give the impression that an idea had suddenly popped into your head, before turning back to face him, “I know! I’ll just go in the forest very quickly.”

Without a response, you pushed the door open and stepped out, causing the driver to scramble out of the car as well, pure panic washing over his expression at your determination. 

“Please ma’am! I can’t let you go out there in the dead of night.”

“Why?” You asked, sporting a confused, and very much dumb, look, “it’s fine! I’ll just go towards my husband. He’ll protect me.”

The mention of Jungkook seemed to visibly calm the man, though there was still a lingering hesitance in his expression, “let me walk you to him.”

You waved him off, praying that he let you go without a fuss. You didn’t want things to get more complicated than they needed to be, or it wouldn’t end well for the man before you, “he’s right at the edge, don’t worry! I saw him and everything!”

You turned around and began walking towards the thicket of trees and, to your utmost relief, you didn’t hear the sounds of the driver following. 

It took you about a minute of walking through the forest to realise that Jungkook was, in fact, not at its very edge, which left you trekking deeper into the thicket of trees, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness. You could hear the occasional sound of a bird, that strange humm that always seemed to be present in the wilderness, and the skittering of small animals against fallen branches, but there was no sound of your own expert footsteps to your satisfaction. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to hear what was coming. 

Once you’d created a considerable distance between yourself and the driver, to the point that you were certain he would no longer be able to catch sight of you, your innocent smile dropped, replaced immediately by a look of focus as you reached for the gun at your thigh. 

Your gaze wasted no time in surveying the darkened wilderness around you, flickering down only briefly to double check the magazine once again. Your surroundings were still empty of human life, no signs of Jungkook anywhere near you for the time being. Your brows couldn’t help but furrow, wondering why he’d decided to go hiking to take one phone call, even if it was from Jimin. 

You grabbed the silencer from your holster and began to screw it onto the barrel, strolling until you caught the faint sight of a dark silhouette in the distance. The sight had you crouching instantly, fingers still twisting the silencer into the barrel as you began inching closer to the figure, using the thick trunks of the trees to hide yourself from view. The closer you got, the more the silhouette began to shape into Jungkook, his black hair falling into his eyes as his gaze was directed downwards while one hand held his phone up to his ear. 

You finally hid yourself behind a tree that was directly to his right, letting go of the now fully attached silencer to instead rest your finger against the trigger guard. You were close enough that you could hear his end of the conversation now, one that seemed to have just begun.

“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin,” he said, voice cool and collected, but you could see the fist his other hand had become. 

Something about Jimin got under Jungkook’s skin, that was clear enough to you by now. But you wondered, why? Jungkook seemed like a man that was unmoved by a challenge, enjoyed them even, according to your observations these past four days and also according to his reaction to your presence. And yet, small attacks and calls from Jimin were enough to move him? No… there was something deeper to this reaction, something personal between Jimin and Jungkook that you didn’t know about. Some sort of history perhaps?

“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?”

You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts. It didn’t matter anymore. You were about to shoot Jungkook dead, making the answers to these questions useless for you. This little mission of yours was over. 

You watched a squirrel scurry down the trunk of a tree to your left, the small animal cloaked in the shadows of the darkness. Eager to get this over with, you placed your hand on the top of the gun, slowly pulling the slide backwards. At the exact moment you heard a click sound from your gun, the squirrel crashed into a pile of leaves, muffling the racking of your slide. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook’s expression just in case as both your hands went to hold the handle. His brows were furrowed, but his eyes were still turned downwards, giving the impression that perhaps Jimin had said something he wasn’t expecting. 

Distantly you wondered what it could have been, but physically you brought your gun up from the side of the trunk, pushing the thought out of your mind. 

You felt all thoughts flow out of your head like they always did whenever you were aiming, this time your barrel pointing straight in the direction of Jungkook’s temple. When you saw a lack of any reaction from him, you knew it was over.

Your finger finally pressed against the trigger.

Goodbye, Jungkook.

“You’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”

You froze, your finger stalling as it pushed the trigger by about a third of its pathway, the words making your eyes widen in surprise. It had to be a misunderstanding, your luck couldn’t be so good - or would it be bad in this case? - that Park Jimin was inviting Jeon Jungkook over to his territory? 

You strained your ears, desperately trying to hear Jimin’s answer to the question. You even dangerously pushed your head forward a bit, risking being detected by Jungkook, but he was much too busy staring at the ground with slightly widened eyes to notice your form, clearly just as surprised as you.

You pulled back behind the trunk when you managed to make out a yes from Jimin’s end of the line, causing you to suck in a breath. 

This changed things. 

If Jungkook were to be killed in the Park Territory it wouldn’t just cause tensions between the northern territories, it would instantly cause all out war. Killing a leader while he was visiting another territory was a huge no no, no matter what region of the country you were from. It signified at least some form of ethics in a world that was so unethical, and surprisingly you’d never met a territory that didn’t honour that rule. To the point that when leaders broke that rule, it was instant chaos. All it would take was for Jungkook to die on Park soil for both the Jeons and Kims to retaliate with full force, no room for negotiations or apologies. 

And the best part was that, if Jungkook were to go, he would have to take you. Leaders always took their wives whenever they travelled or visited other territories to assert their power. If Jungkook ended up going to the Park Territory without you, he would give off the impression that he was scared he wouldn't be able to protect you should something go wrong, making him look weak. Mr. Perfect Image would never have that, especially in the face of the one person clearly trying to take over his territory. 

Now it all depended on his answer. 

Your handgun continued to stay pinned on Jungkook’s head, finger still pressing against the trigger as you watched him stare into the ground before him. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, going over the advantages and disadvantages of his options while his lips were pressed into a firm line. Whether he survived or not tonight was all dependent on the answer he gave now.

You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, the natural sounds of the forest blurring into the background as you focused on the man before you. 

Jungkook’s head suddenly lifted, staring straight ahead of him as the chaos of his thoughts seemed to subside. You automatically adjusted your aim, preparing yourself before he finally spoke.

“Fine.”

Your finger instantly lifted off the trigger to let it bounce back into place, pairing with the sound of Jungkook ending the phone call. Your arm dropped to your side as the realisation washed over you. 

The decision had been made, you were going to visit the Parks. 

But one thing had become more clear to you at this very moment. You had just given up a good opportunity to end this man, one that may not show itself again, which meant you could not let it be in vain. No matter what happened there, no matter how you had to do it, Jungkook was dying in the Park Territory. There was no room for failure now, only the end of what needed to be done. 

You’d do anything to make sure of it. 

A/N: Things are about to get very physical 😏 Also comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!

[clare-875]

Habits of Touch pt.2 (Ace, Law, Shanks)

_____ Pairings: (Separate) Ace x Reader; Law x Reader; Shanks x Reader Summary: His favorite time/way to share physical affection with you. Warnings: Fluff, Slightly suggestive, alcohol Notes: The above images do NOT belong to me, Female Reader [One Piece Masterlist] [Part 1] _____

- Ace - Long days and Warm Hugs

When Ace loves it’s like you’re almost blessed with the comfort of a warm blanket wherever you may go. No matter if you had the most fulfilling or horrid day, Ace will seek you out; seek out your smaller form that also blesses him with a comfort only you could provide. You could hardly deny the man. How could you say no, when all you see is that wide, warm smile. How could you resist the hold he so easily provides, especially on days that seem to have no end. His hands were always gentle, his arms always wrapped around you tight. It was a sense of security and safety you would find yourself turning to every moment of your life. Ace loved it. Deprived of love in his early life, he now craves the ease at which you provide affection within his embrace. You gave a sort of comfort and a sort of love that he thought he would never find in his lifetime, but there you were every day of his life, so alluring and so utterly perfect. He adored your sweet scent that filled him as he went to embrace you. He adored your breathless laugh that reached his ears as he swung you around suddenly in his arms. He adored your gleaming eyes as you turned to him, full of devotion.

If he could, he would never let go.

Ace didn't see anything wrong with PDA, you were his and he was yours, and he would make sure that the whole world knew. Even as crew members often teased and laughed at his love-lorn state, all he could hear were your endearing words and laughter and joy. So even as his friends grinned provocatively all they would receive were passive words to leave the both of you be, they would never receive his eyes though, they were locked solely on you in his embrace. The times when your form meant most to him, however, were on long and draining days that made fatigue creep up on him. On days that maybe didn't go the way he hoped, or on days when darker thoughts swept the depths of his mind, you were the only one who could get him out of his forlorn state. Even his crewmates knew of this and sought you out whenever they saw the second division commander lose his usual lustre for life and adventure. He would do the same for you. You adored how his murmured words and you, buried within him were all you needed to lose sight of a long and tiring day.

If you could, you would stay in his arms for eternity.

"[y/n]~" His breath is mumbled into your form as warm hands inch their way slowly around your body. Suddenly you are engulfed by his arms and his heat and the scent of him. You laugh gently as he buries his head deep into the crook of your neck and breaths you in, while you reach your arms around his larger stature too. "Babe, 'm tired." You smile at his drowsy words and the childish charm that reached him after a long day. However, before you can reply, your world is suddenly turning as Ace falls to the bed by his side, pulling you with him as he does. You let out a slight gasp but he merely holds you tighter and you are trapped within him. "Let's stay here a while." You barely have any time to reply to his uttered words as he drifts to sleep, at peace knowing you are in his arms. "You'll be the death of me Portgas D. Ace." You say with a sigh, but your smile lingers within your words and his smile grows even in his sleep.

- Law - Late nights and Caresses

The entire crew knows of Law’s incessant need to be working until the early hours of the morning. The late nights spent on whatever research or stressors he deals with often taint his eyes dull and dark with lack of sleep. However, the crew also knows of the one cure to his constant exhaustion, the one cure to the irritation that brims throughout the day or evening and the headache he often harbours. You. If there’s anything Law craves more than peace from his thoughts, it is your touch that gives him that peace. Your fingers that carve through his hair are heavenly and as he is blessed by the ease of your touch, you are blessed by the sight of him in love. He wonders how a simple caress can rid of the stress he thought was endless as Captain of his crew, but your hands were divine as they raked through his hair. You were the centre to all he sought, and whenever he saw that the stress that lingered caught onto you too, he would find himself doing the same. During late nights when you needed comfort, his strong hands would carve themselves through your hair, providing release from a long and tiring day. However, Law would be lying if he were to say he didn't prefer it the other way around. He loved the way you provided comfort and care in silent recognition of his turmoil and the silent movement of your hands.

Tonight was no different.

You hear the creak of the door and look up from atop your bed unsurprised to see the dishevelled man that walks through it. It had been about an hour since you had last checked up on him, and now it was late into the evening, evident by the exhausted man before you. You sigh half-heartedly, slightly in concern, slightly in exasperation at how you can not get him to stop overworking himself. He groans as he quickly goes about the room getting ready for bed, and once he does, he all but collapses to your side. You put down the book you had been lazily skimming and turn to the man who is now lying next to you, eyes already closed. But you see the stress that still lingers, creeping up to him. Your hand moves as if on instinct to his soft raven locks, and your fingers gently thread through his hair. Almost instantly you see his reaction, as the etches of his face finally relax as though finally at peace. You continue and he moves into your gentle movements letting out a low hum of contentment. You smile at the sight of his ease, but, you then feel his fingers gently take your hand and you look down, surprised to see he has turned to you, his grey eyes looking at yours.

He guides you down to his side, and suddenly you are beside him, lying down and facing him, your book forgotten on the bedside table. You meet his gaze, surprised to see the deep emotion that shows itself in the late hours of the evening. His face is soft, and your hand still reaches out to him, caressing the depths of his hair. Momentarily you see his eyes close but one hand is still wrapped loosely around your free one. "Good night, love," he mutters, drowsy words almost slurred out to you. You feel your lips upturn at his gentle words and actions. "Good night Law, I love you." You are surprised further when before you drift off to your own sleep, you hear the same devotion softly muttered back to you.

- Shanks - Drinks and Waists

Shanks often finds himself among his crew, laughing and drinking as another day of success brings about another reason to celebrate. His allies also know this well, as oftentimes times when old friends would come by, they find themselves enraptured by the red-haired pirates' lustre for a party. However, unbeknownst to them, Shanks is never satisfied by the drink in his hand, never satisfied by the thrumming of music or the laughter of comrades unless a certain someone graced him with their presence. That someone? You. Unlike the allies that may come to join in on their celebrations the crew know of this all too well. Once alcohol has touched Shank’s bloodstream it only takes an instant for his eyes to wonder and his voice to call for you through the crowd. He will sulk like a child if you are not there beside him to celebrate the night with him. No matter how important the guests at the party were, or what occasion they were raising a beer to, his utmost priority was making sure you were by his side, his hands on your waist.

"Babe~" You smell the taint of alcohol on his lips as his hands roam to your waist before you are gently guided to his lap. You sigh and turn to your partner, who now has a slightly pink tint on his cheeks. "Shanks, I thought I told you, no more." You try to pry away the drink he looks to but you are surprised when he lets you move it away from him so easily. Instead he starts causing you to fluster as he places gentle kisses on your neck and pulls you tighter to him. "S-Shanks." Your words tremble in the air but he continues to hold you around your waist, and you are now almost straddling him. "Hmm, don't worry so much." His words are slurred against your form as you roll your eyes, but when you look up to meet his gaze, you are surprised to see them clear, as though sober. "You are beautiful, do you know that?" He whispers to you in the quiet of the slowly dying crowds within the bar. Your eyes widen momentarily at the sincerity of his words but you gently smile, caressing his hair as he thumbs gently circles against your hips. "Only because you remind me, like every minute of the day," you say teasingly, and are pleased to see the rising of red in his face at your words; the captain of the Red Haired Pirates, putty in your hands.

"Allow me to remind you, once again darling."

His words are uttered gently before you meet his lips with yours, the lingering alcohol now meeting you fully but doing nothing to betray your trust in his gently murmured words. By the end of the night, you are unsurprised to have to almost haul the Captain back to the ship, but his hands are still wrapped around your waist and pulling you close. "I love you, do you know that?" He whispers to you so bluntly and suddenly in the depths of the cool evening, it makes soft laughter erupt from within you. "Only because you tell me, every second of the day," you say softly, as the two of you finally make your way to where the ship is harboured. He then turns to you, eyebrows almost furrowed as he turns to you. "And you? Do you love me too?" He asks so softly and almost hesitantly, that you are caught off guard. You turn to his sincere but drunken gaze, still held tight next to him. You smile as your hand caresses his face gently. "Of course I love you." A grin enraptures his face before he leans onto you heavily, and you let out a heavy sigh knowing the alcohol has now lured him to sleep.

Just what will you do with him?

_____ @trinitrinitrini

[zeroreasonstocare]

Trouble

A Five Part Sukuna Series

Part One: Some Dumb Project

Masterlist

Part Two (will update when posted!!)

Synopsis: You switched majors and meet this annoying guy in your new history class, now you have to work on a project with him. Not only that, he goes to the place you work at! Ugh, how annoying, hopefully he won’t cause any trouble…

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ♛ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

Sukuna is nothing but trouble. Everyone knows that. All your life, you’ve attracted nothing but trouble. Whether it’s a traffic jam, your coffee being too cold or spilling all over you, or somehow locking yourself out of your apartment, you just can’t help but find trouble.

Like right now.

You’re late. To your first class of your new major. It’s not like you slept in late or anything, your door jammed, meaning you had to bust yourself out of your own apartment. Talk about annoying! Luckily, the professor hasn’t entered class, so when you walk into the lecture hall, you get up to a row with good acoustics and sit next to a boy with pink hair. He smiles at you and taps your shoulder.

“Hey! I’m Yuji Itadori! Are you new? I haven’t seen you here before, and most of these people are familiar faces.”

“Yeah, I switched majors over break. Nice to meet you, Itadori.”

“Hey, who’s the person in my seat, brat?”

You think you have double vision when you see Itadori twice, but this second one has tattoos on his face.

“Um, there aren’t assigned seats.”

“You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” He huffs with his gruff voice, a frown permanently etched into his face. He’s like a polar opposite of Yuji.

“Sukuna, just sit on the other side of me, it’s not that big a deal.” Yuji rolls his eyes.

“Maybe not to you, idiot.”

“Um, who are you?” You tilt your head.

“I’m this brat’s twin brother, isn’t that obvious? Now get out of my spot.”

“Still not your spot.”

“I will carve my name into the desk. Then will you move?”

“Isn’t that vandalism?”

“Even better.”

You scoff into a small laugh and look at Yuji with a “can you believe this guy?” look. You still refuse to switch seats as the professor enters.

“Alright, take your seats, class has started.” He says in a bored tone.

Sukuna scoffs at you and sits on the other side of Yuji, glaring at you the entire time. He can already tell you’re going to annoy him. Especially with your stupid attitude, your dumb clothes that fit you so well, your stupid good looks, your annoyingly attractive body… He needs to not stare. He shakes the thought away as the professor talks about some dumb project he could care less about.

“You all are going to be assigned a group of three people, so just look at the person next to you and on the other side, that’s basically your group, just for simplicity.” The professor looks up and starts writing groups down. “Mkay, so the Itadoris anddd… got it.”

Sukuna almost audibly groans with his eye roll, now he’s stuck with you? What a pain… The end of class couldn’t come sooner. He glares at you as he leaves, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and smoking in the bathrooms. You look at Yuji in confusion.

“That’s your twin brother?”

“Yeah, I think he was dropped.”

You laugh at him and shake your head, he’s definitely funnier than his moody counterpart. You head to your next class after exchanging numbers. The rest of the school day goes on like normal. Luckily, you don’t have any other classes with Yuji’s brother, but you do share a math class with Yuji, which is fun. You leave to work, a cafe run by a tired old man, but he’s a nice guy. You get there early somehow, changing into your work clothes and heading to the front to take orders.

You didn’t think the day would be worse, but who else enters the cafe but that annoying tattooed guy? Oh, and Yuji, but he’s not the issue here. There’s a third guy too, he doesn’t look much like them.

“Hey, customers are here, stop staring and take their orders, please.” Nanami tells you.

“Right, sorry.” You mumble and take their orders, Sukuna purposely picking something difficult. Yuji smiles at you and sits at their normal spot.

“This history project makes no sense, we haven’t even been taught this thing and he’s assigning us a project! Can you believe this, Choso?” Yuji groans and sips his drink when you set it in front of him.

“It’s like a research project, and we need to sort out who's doing what.” You say and hand who Yuji called “Choso” his black coffee. You set down the difficult order Sukuna made and he examines it.

“Hmm…”

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure it was made correctly.”

“I didn’t poison it, dude, it has everything you asked for.”

“Hmmmmm…” Your eye twitches.

“You’re not getting a refund, Sukuna, she made it exactly like you asked, you’re such a pain in the ass.” Yuji rolls his eyes and looks at you. “Just ignore him. We need to plan the project anyways. Sukuna isn’t going to do anything, I already know that.”

Sukuna, who doesn’t deny it, opens a bunch of straws, rips small parts of the wrapping paper, balls them up, and throws them across the table. One hits Yuji, one lands onto the floor, one lands in Choso’s coffee, and one hits you while another lands in your hair. Choso glares at his younger brother and rolls his eyes, moving the ball out of his coffee before taking a sip.

“Every day, I wonder how I am even related to you.” Choso mumbles.

“Oh, you say that about me but not the idiot next to you?”

“At least Yuji isn’t a literal menace like you.”

“Can we please focus on the project?” Yuji sighs.

“Whatever.” Sukuna grumbles and keeps tossing trash around.

“I’ll research the start half if you research the end half.” Yuji says to you.

“Mkay, I can also make the presentation.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Sukuna asks.

“Don’t act like you plan to help, idiot! The school already caught you for vandalizing the bathroom stalls! You’re gonna be busy cleaning all that up before you can even work on the project, and I know you’ll take your sweet ass time cleaning everything up!” Yuji argues with Sukuna.

“Really? First day back and you’re already in trouble?” You tilt your head.

“Don’t act so surprised, everyone knows he’s trouble.” Choso says pointedly.

“Oh, I guess you’ve never met him before today, huh? He gets in trouble quite a lot.” Yuji grins. “Anyways, we should let you get back to work, so have fun!”

Yuji leaves a tip for you and you start cleaning the table, not seeing the way Sukuna’s gaze lingers when you bend to pick up the trash from the ground. You hit your head standing back up and swear you can hear someone snicker.

You drive home, though leaving the parking lot of the cafe takes you almost an hour since your key wouldn’t work. When you get to your apartment, you enter through the front door and cook yourself a simple dinner. You count your tips and see a piece of paper you didn’t notice before.

“Don’t sit there tomorrow or I’ll key your car.”

Wonder who that could be from.

The next day, you head to class, getting there early, and Sukuna is already in “his seat”, giving you a glare as his eyes trail down your body. He really can’t stand you, he decides again. Your outfit today sits a little too perfect, being just tight enough that if someone was looking hard enough (which Sukuna was), they could see the outline of your bra.

You chew on the end of your pencil, a bad habit you’re yet to break, and Yuji shares the research doc to you. You split the work between the two of you and Sukuna just sits in the doc typing the same three phrases over and over.

“Stop that.” Yuji smacks his brother’s arm.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re typing ‘death and destruction’ as if you’re manifesting it, stop.”

“I’m not just typing that…”

“Don’t get me started on ‘the despair is endless’ and ‘this class shouldn’t exist’. What are you, twelve?”

“I’m twenty-one, like you, dumbass!”

“I’m not the dumbass writing edgy shit on the doc!”

“Oh my god, you two, just let him type his edgy shit and continue researching.” You groan.

Yuji huffs in frustration and continues his research while you check the doc to see what Sukuna is doing. There are fire emojis in the middle of your typing, the words “you work tn?” near the bottom of the page. You sigh and humor him, talking through the document.

“No, why?”

“So I don’t get to throw trash at you later?”

“Nope.”

“How sad.”

You look at him and he has a smirk. You roll your eyes and leave when class is over, tripping over your own feet. He laughs at your misfortune and grunts when Yuji smacks him in the head.

“What was that for?!”

“Don’t go flirting with her, she’s a nice girl who doesn’t need someone like you to fuck up her happiness.”

“I’m not flirting with her!”

“I saw the fucking doc, dipshit. You’re not slick.”

“I was asking if she’d be around for me to torment.”

“You and I both know what your intentions were.”

The tattooed twin grunts and walks off, lighting a cigarette and tripping some nerd who apologizes for being in his way. He wasn’t flirting. He can’t stand you, he tells himself. He can’t stand your quick remarks to his words, can’t stand your stupid doe eyes, the way they squint when you’re focused on typing after the third typo in a row, can’t stand the way you purse your lips and the slight smile on your face when he and Yuji are arguing, definitely not wondering what it’d be like to feel them against his own. Because he wasn’t flirting. Yuji doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Sukuna smokes and half-ass scrubs the stall he vandalized yesterday. His thoughts are not focused on you, your stupid face, or your dumb words. Totally not. He wasn’t flirting, he reassures himself again. He’s not interested in you. Even if he was, he wouldn’t admit that. You’re just some girl in his class. Not important at all.

He’s late to the cafe and Yuji is fixing the mistakes in the research document. Choso sips his usual black coffee and scrolls on his phone.

“You’re late.” The elder brother points out.

“Had to clean the bathrooms.”

“I see. Your barista friend isn’t here.”

“She’s not my ‘friend’, Choso.”

“She’s Yuji’s friend.”

“Doesn’t make her mine by default, she can have the brat.”

“Says Mister Flirts With Her.” Yuji grins.

“I wasn’t flirting dammit!”

“Why are you getting so defensive, huh?”

“I am not! You’re just a pain in my ass and annoying the hell out of me!”

“Stop screaming, Nanamin will kick us out!” Yuji frowns.

“I still don’t get how you’re so buddy-buddy with the old man.” Choso mumbles.

“He’s pretty cool. Kind of mean, but he makes delicious bread.”

“Literally how the hell are you even aware of that?” Sukuna scoffs.

“Unlike you, I actually talk to people, and get along with them!”

“Whatever…” He scoffs.

Sukuna seems bored. He taps the table to a catchy tune and just waits until it’s time for him to go home. He watches a few groups walk into the cafe and at Yuji working diligently on his laptop.

“At least she does her work. I’d hate to do this project alone.” Yuji says to no one in particular.

“Do you do anything else besides complain?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sukuna. Let me think out loud. And you complain more than I do.”

“Liar.”

“How the hell is that a lie?”

Choso chuckles at his younger brothers. “Sukuna, you do have a streak for complaining more than Yuji.”

“Oh, dare I bring you into this, Choso?”

“You’re right; withdrawn.”

“Let’s just go home already.”

“Yeah, fine.” Yuji frowns and shuts his laptop.

When they get home, Sukuna feels a buzz in his pocket. He checks his phone. There is a text from Gojo, the university’s pretty boy.

Party at my place next Thursday.

This should be fun.

Taglist: @jinxiewritings @midnight-138 @sukioyakio @toffeebrat @hypothetical-hypocritical

@sh0ot1ngst4r @tojideckmuncher @sterzin @theirlgarfield @mikari73

@watyousayin @cherriee-ee @kyojurokoibito @xwhatiams @notsocherries

@ohohcandy @aruraa @samaraxmorgan (Comment or ask and I’ll add you!!)

[fanaticsnail]

Hear me out

Rosinante lay bleeding out in the snow, the soft dust if winters chill falling from the sky to perfectly preserve his body in a beautiful stasis. If you had met him under different circumstances, you would've cried at taking the man's life to sate your thirst.

He was just so beautiful.

You had never seen such grace in an almost departed man, especially one that wore a smile on his death-like features. Lapping at his wounds, you felt the life once again returning to you and fleeing out from his wounded body. Barely needing to puncture his skin with your fangs, you simply chose one of the unloaded bullet holes within his body to drink from.

His lungs began to deflate as a few words gently tumbled within his last breath.

"Trafalgar... D..." He began, coughing as his essence fled through his oesophagus and dribble down his chin, "...Water Law. Please," his auburn eyes parted, the gloss of life shrouding his hue began to deepen. "...Vampire. Watch him... Watch over him."

Rising from your latch on his chest, you cradle his cheek within your hand. His skin felt as warm as your flesh was, his desperation only fuelled his beauty. You felt bound, your icy heart breaking the longer he spoke.

"I won't do that, sir," you whisper, shaking your headband gazing at him lovingly, "But I will give you the opportunity to rise once more as my kin." Using the last of his strength, he gazed at you while weighing the consequences within the recesses of his fading memory.

"What-... Must I do, as your thrall?" He groaned, the gurgle of blood choking within his throat, "Heed your demands-... and fight your battles?"

You shake your head, a sweet smile ticking up at the corners of your lips.

"No, my heart," you coo down at him. "All you must do, is simply say 'yes'." You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, rubied droplets forming from your canine indents. "Is that something that you want?"

Rosinante darted his dazed eyes between yours, searching for any lie in your tone or gesture. He gazed down to your lips before looking up within your darkened pupils.

"Yes."

Within the same breath of his confirmation, you surged forward and claimed his lips beneath your own. Your hunger and passion was expressed in the weighty kiss, forging a covenant met in blood and lust.

Rising from the snow: with messy locks of blonde hair, eyes consumed with deep sorrow. All wounds faded to the silvery glow of illuminated skin, and his hunger for retribution rose alongside his bloodlust.

Donquixote Rosinante Corazon, a freshly indoctrinated vampire spawning to a much older and wiser breed of fallen Nephilim.

And he was so beautiful.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

I don't think I'll add any more to it, but it has been plaguing my thoughts lately.

[puma-riki]

No One Noticed...

Synopsis: You've never seemed to make friends well. Sure, you had people you knew and were well acquainted with, but no one ever seemed to get closer to you or want to. You think that no one notices you and you'll continue the rest of your college years alone like all the years before. Except Ni-ki notices just about everything you do.

Pairing: Nishimura Riki x Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor (or attempts at), sliIght angst, smau + written parts, idiots to lovers, university au, slow burn

Warnings: consistent cursing

Characters: Enhypen (all), Eunchae (lesserafim), Keeho, Soul, (P1Harmony)

Status: Ongoing (Start: 092124)

Taglist: @bee-the-loser @iaintseggsy @channieismylove | Comment on any chapter from No One Noticed... saying you want to be added to the taglist!! or send me an ask !! | bold could not be tagged :c

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Masterlist | Previous | Next

04. HAPPY WEDNESDAY GUYS‼️‼️ + written

Campus Library 1:54pm

Ni-ki checked his phone for what had to be the 100th time since he took his spot leaning against the wall next to the library stairs. He hadn’t misread your texts, had he? Were you late? Or worse—were you already inside waiting while he was stuck out here, making him look like the kind of guy who didn’t care enough about his grades to show up for a tutoring session he asked for? That thought didn’t sit well, even if it wasn’t possible. Ni-ki had shown up 30 minutes early, too anxious to risk being late.

He opened his phone again, kicking at the small pebbles scattered across the pavement, He was about to send an SOS text to his friends' group chat when he heard a voice

"Are you out here waiting for me?" oh god it was you, he almost broke his neck, turning towards you.

You shifted the worn bag hanging on your shoulder, arms crossed against the breeze carrying the first hints of autumn. Ni-ki locked his phone and shoved his hands into the pockets of his green bomber jacket.

"Uh, yeah." He stood up from against the wall and shuffled his feet awkwardly, "I wasn't sure which study room we were using so, I just thought I'd wait for you to show up" His voice was quiet, and he felt it. This was the first real conversation you two had ever had—and the first time you’d ever looked directly at him.

"Oh, really?" You pouted slightly, your brow furrowing in confusion. Cute, he thought. "I thought I texted you the number. My bad." You walked past him, gesturing toward the stairs. "I’ll make sure I tell you next time, okay?" You smiled softly, tilting your head toward the stairs, signaling for him to follow.

You had only shown up ten seconds ago, and already, Ni-ki's heart was pounding.

He cleared his throat. "Kay," he mumbled, falling into step behind you as you made your way inside the library.

His nerves stayed with him as he climbed the stairs, especially knowing he would soon have to admit he was completely lost in biology—something you excelled at. He didn’t want you to think he was stupid.

After venturing into the library and ascending another flight of stairs, you pulled a keycard from the back pocket of your jeans and tapped it against the door to one of the study rooms.

“This room is reserved for the tutoring program specifically,” you explained, holding the door open for him with a smile. "So, we'll meet here for future sessions too."

Ni-ki felt like he was stepping into a padded cell. He was going to be alone with you in this room for 2 hours, how was he supposed to keep his cool and actually pay attention to the material instead of admiring you. He felt his hands start to sweat in his pockets as he took a seat at the long table sitting horizontally in front of the door after mumbling a shy thanks to you for holding the door for him. He sat his backpack down on the chair next to him as you did the same in the seat across from him.

"So," here came the embarrassment, "What exactly are you struggling with in bio." You gave him a quick glance as you dug in your bag for a notebook and pen.

Ni-ki wiped his hands on his jeans. “Well,” he started, feeling the familiar weight of self-disappointment in his chest, “pretty much everything, honestly.” His voice was quiet, the words almost painful to admit.

"That's okay! Biology is one of the harder classes, plus our professor is kind of a hard ass so it looks harder than it actually is." Your reassurance made his shoulders relax a little, and he let out a breathy laugh, your playful tone helping to ease his tension. You couldn't help but find him a bit cute.

“And it’s still early in the semester,” you continued, smoothing out your notebook page. “I’ll help you catch up.” Your encouraging smile sent a warmth through him. He nodded, wishing he could find his voice.

"Do you have any past quizzes and tests with you?"

“Yeah.” He quickly fumbled through his bag, nerves and the weight of your gaze making his hands clumsy as he pulled out a stack of papers littered with red marks. He felt a pang of embarrassment as he handed them over, watching you flip through his messy work. Red ink stained nearly every page, a reminder of how lost he’d been. He watched as you flipped through them, analyzing where he went wrong and where he had managed to get something right.

“Okay,” you said, setting the papers aside. “We’ll start from chapter one and work through it together. I’ll explain things differently from the professor and see if that helps.” You were already jotting down diagrams and definitions without needing to reference anything, working from memory.

"Okay, cool" he mumbled, trying to not make it obvious that he was taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You smiled at his shyness, finding it endearing, "Okay so," You finished writing and turned your notebook towards him. As you began explaining biology’s chemical basis, Ni-ki found himself slowly relaxing, nodding along as the confusion in his mind started to unravel. Maybe tutoring wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

Until you asked him a question.

Ni-kis mind went completely blank when his eyes met yours for the first time in the past hour. He felt heat creep up his neck and to his ears, luckily his hair had been long enough to cover it. he defeatedly admitted that he had no clue how to answer. his eyes downcast at the notebook and your hands instead of your face.

"That's okay! That's why I'm here to help you, you'll get better at it." The warmth in your voice surprised him. He was used to strict teachers, but you were different—gentler. he had partially expected you to be as uptight as some of his professors who would've grown impatient with his hesitation and wouldn't have responded so kindly.

You asked a few more questions throughout the session, and though he got most of the first ones wrong, you explained patiently each time, your soft smiles easing his nerves. When he did manage to get a few answers right, you brightened, praising him and diving deeper into the material. He felt his heart soar and warmth spread through his chest when you did so. With each moment, he felt himself relax, though he stayed shy, mumbling his responses and avoiding eye contact. You didn’t seem to mind, even though it was kind of hard to hear him, but you kept it professional and didn't say anything, not wanting him to feel more embarrassed.

"Okay, its 4:03. We can stop here." You say checking your watch. "Do you have any questions about anything from this chapter?" Your eyes meet his for a split second before he's averting his gaze from you and to a random corner in the room.

Ni-ki shook his head, "Not that I can think of,"

"Alright, then. Don't hate me for what I'm about to do" You tease, taking the notebook you both worked in for 2 hours and scribbling something down on a clean page.

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. "What are you doing?" He tilted his head to try and get a glimpse of what you were writing. after a minute you slide the notebook back towards him.

"Before Friday, try answering these questions so we can see if things are making more sense." You say, clicking your pen closed and putting it back into your bag. "You can keep the notebook, by the way."

"You're giving me homework?" He jokes, a pout forming on his lips, as he picks up the notebook and scans the questions you wrote down, there were only 5.

"I said don’t hate me!" you laughed. “Text me if you have any questions, okay?" you laughed lightly as you stood up and slung your satchel-like bag over your shoulder. You watched him nod, beginning to put the notebook in his bag with the rest of his stuff.

"Okay, I will, Thank you [name]" he gave you a friendly smile as you began pushing in your chair and made your way to the door.

"Of course, see you Friday Ni-ki!" you gave him a small wave and opened the door.

"See you Friday" he echoed after you. The door clicked shut and then you were gone, leaving him to sit with the fluttering in his chest.

[sanesuki]

A Simple Click

Gamer AU | Finding an outlet to cure her boredom was desperately needed, so much so that she downloads a game full of magic and chibi characters. But what happens when she stumbles across a certain blonde spamming her to join his guild? She takes the offer of course! Gaining a new way to level up, make friends and perhaps even love. 

No MHA Spoilers :) 

Katsuki Bakugo X Y/N 

Word Count : 6.6k

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The thought of playing multiplayer games has never crossed her mind. Y/N knew such gaming communities were toxic especially for females. So she strayed away from them and played solo for the most part. But recently as she was mindlessly scrolling through instagram, a gameplay caught her attention. 

The main reason was the unique way the characters looked. They were all chibi and absolutely adorable to her with different accessories and customizable features. The more she looked into this game, the more tempted she was to play. It was multiplayer but she couldn't imagine any toxic people playing this whatsoever. I mean, a chibi game? Yeah right. 

Y/N needed to find a cure to her boredom and her current free-play games weren't cutting it. Now on winter recess from highschool, she had three weeks living in the confines of her room with nothing to look forward to. It felt as if everyone she knew would be going out on travels, besides her. Her family was never one to do family vacations, usually spending the holidays at home. She was beyond bored. 

With not much convincing needed and an empty mind to distract, she went to her laptop and clicked on the app store. Installing the game and settling down at her desk located at the corner of her room. Despite watching a brief gameplay earlier, she wasn't used to these games or its mechanics. This would all be new to her. 

The app ‘Wispy Guilds’ soon popped up on the computer's home screen with a ding! 

Y/N clicks on the icon and loads up the game, not aware of the future chaos she brought into her life. Perhaps it was fate that brought her and a certain blonde together. And it all started with a simple click. 

The program opens and Y/N is welcomed into the opening screen of the app. Faced with a pretty scenery of what looks to be a mythical oasis, different shades of greens and blue filling her screen. It looks to be a forest with a castle-like building in the middle of the area. Little chibi characters walk in and out of the place, majority dressed as wizards and others as knights. While others occasionally wear funny costumes or props. 

Y/N clicks on the bubble letters displayed in the bottom of the screen ‘Create Account’. She types in all her necessary information but pauses when she sees the username section. 

“Aw man you have to pay to get a custom username! This sucks..” she sighs with a hint of disappointment. Her eyes lock on the small dice icon and she mumbles a plea beneath her breath as she hovers the cursor over it. 

“Please nothing too bad” she says as she clicks the icon to generate a random username. Her eyes darted to look at the result…. ‘StarHae’. 

“Oh you've gotta be kidding me! But it could be worse I guess” she whines with a small pout on her face. With that now out of the way, she clicks continue and goes to the next page. The character customization page pops up and Y/N gets right on it. 

Unfortunately there's not much options since she's only level one but she tries picking the cutest options. With no access to the higher level equipment, she decides to put on a starter black cape accompanied with a common level sword. Due to the lack of unlocked accessories, she settles with that and then clicks ‘Finish & Join’. 

Her screen turns into a small loading scene that resembles a portal, almost like she's being transported into another world. Then a few seconds later she is in the game. Her small chibi character spawns in what seems to be in the center of a town. Other chibi players roaming around and visiting merchants or chatting with other people. 

Y/N clicks on the W key on her keyboard to move forward to explore. Her avatar shifts left and right as it explores the town square. This place seems to be the lobby where everyone is able to spawn in and purchase items or trade. She looks around at the other players and notices they're all higher levels from her, as to be expected of course. An occasional low level player here and there is seen roaming around as she walks around the shops, but few are seen.

A bright yellow arrow appears on top of her screen seemingly leading her to this npc character under ‘Quests’. She follows it, her small avatar running towards the yellow area that's lit up to grab her attention. A small tab appears in the middle of the screen once she steps close enough to the character. The npc is an older man with white hair and a beard, a small beginner cape on his avatar. Y/N clicks on the tab and a tutorial quest appears on her screen. 

“Lets see….. Kill five wolves in the hunting grounds” she mumbles out loud to herself. She doesn't have a choice to exit the tab, so this must be required. She accepts her first mission and a few seconds later, another yellow arrow appears to lead her to the different area. Her avatar runs to the yellow circle near the grand fountain in the middle of the town square. And soon a loading screen appears on her screen for a brief moment as her character gets teleported toward the hunting grounds, a forest more specifically. 

A health bar appears and a small tutorial plays to show her the mechanics of the game. She clicks to take out her sword and runs along the path of the forest. The game was surprisingly good quality, she was so engrossed in the beauty of the forest that she was caught off guard on the ambush. A gray wolf suddenly appears running towards her and the game pauses. Text boxes and pointers pop up to teach Y/N some attacks she can use against her first opponent. 

After a moment of reading, she follows the instructions and moves around to find a good angle, then charging at the wolf. It attempts to claw at her but she clicks the ‘block’ button as instructed and avoids taking damage. Then clicking ‘strike’ as the tutorial orders and continuing her attacks. 

Soon the wolf's health bar reaches zero and its injured body disappears with a poof! 

Y/N smiles and continues following the tutorial as follows, slowly learning and understanding how to attack these beasts. Eventually she strikes the last wolf in the area and confetti appears on her screen. She completed her first mission and she even leveled up! 

“Hm, this game isn't so bad! Maybe I should do a few more quests to level up” she says as she teleports herself back to the lobby and walks back to the quests section. Her eyes land on a castle button on the right side of her screen that's locked. Her cursor hovers over it and it states ‘Guild’. She's never heard of that term, but it unlocks at level 15 so she’ll see eventually. 

—time skip a few hours bc author is lazy– 

“This game is addicting” she mumbles to herself as she stares at her new level above her avatar's head. 

Level 15!

She should be heading to bed right now… yeah she should call it a night. 

Just as she's about to click log out, she sees the server chat icon wiggle at each new message. Usually it does once in a while when some players request to trade but not this frequently. It's moving like crazy like it wants her to open it. The universe won so out of curiosity, she clicks to open it and sees some players spamming the chat.

Author's note : I added the cuss words in between brackets so you readers understand what Bakugo is originally typing. It's simply to help you know what the censored words are. 

Ex : [curse words] 

Anyways back to the story! 

-Public Chat- 

Bakugo : someone join my guild.

Bakugo : cmon you extras I need one player.

Bakugo : oi you ##### [fucks]

Kirishima : bakugoooo don't be so rude and curse or you'll get banned again!

Bakugo : tch shush it, we just need one more extra to join so we can do the guild wars.

Kirishima : cmon man no one's gonna join if you ask like that! 

Bakugo : i shouldn't need 6 players max in my guild to do the war anyways

Bakugo : this is #### [shit]

Kirishima : hey bakubro come back! Don't be so mean!

-End of Public Chat- 

Y/N watches as the character with blonde hair and red eyes goes around to every high level person trying to force them to join his guild. He seems to be max level 100 and has the knight kit equipped, already giving her the impression that he is someone who prefers combat over healing or protecting. His chibi character runs around typing censored profanities to everyone who ignores or denies his request, it was a funny contrast.

A friend of his, a character with both red hair and eyes, follows him around apologizing to everyone for his friend's rudeness. He seems to be the nicer one of the two and clearly trying to calm the situation down. She could tell he equipped the animal shifter kit due to the red scales on his avatar, and like his friend he is a high level but of 95. Her curious mind wonders what animal he could turn into. Animal shifters are a rare kit and can transform into one animal with a lucky roll of the dice for it to be randomized. 

She doesn't have much more time to think as the blonde avatar starts moving over in the direction she is, near the quest station. His red haired friend trailing behind him like a puppy. Quickly she hides in the crowd of other players at the quests station, not wanting to be the blonde's next target. 

-Public Chat- 

Bakugo : one of you extras better join my guild

Kirishima : pretty please? We just need one member! 

Bakugo : all of these ####### [fuckers] are low level

Kirishima : Bakugo!

Kirishima : They are all new! Be nice! 

Bakugo : tch none can even join a clan anyways 

Bakugo : they are too low level

Kirishima : lets try a different server then?

Bakugo : tch we've been at this for a hour 

Bakugo : Oi someones high enough there

Bakugo : hey level 15 

Bakugo : join my guild. 

Kirishima : which one? 

Bakugo : that girl with the cape

Bakugo : hey you.

-End of Chat- 

Y/N reads the chat and whines under her breath, “I'm the highest level out of this small group of newbies… just my luck”. She tries to ignore them and moves her character to the side and walks to the fountain. Only to be followed by the chibi characters of the blonde and the red hair. 

“Damn they won't leave me alone…. But I don't even know what a guild is. I only just unlocked that feature” she mutters with a sigh as she runs around the map. The two characters follow her wherever she runs to. She could just leave but she IS curious about this whole guilds thing. So after much pestering by these two, specifically the blonde, she reluctantly types in chat. 

StarHae : no thank you..

Bakugo : so you do speak 

Bakugo : join my guild noob. 

Kirishima : Bakugo cmon! 

Kirishima : hi can i call u star :3

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at the dynamic between the two, finding it humorous that they're so different. They seem to be in the same guild, a symbol of an explosion above both of their heads confirms her thought. She reads the message from the red haired person and smiles, typing a response. 

StarHae : sure! hello kirishima :3

Kirishima : Just call me kiri! 

Bakugo : so you gonna join my guild or what 

StarHae : what is a guild? 

Bakugo : ugh just join and find out.

Kirishima : a guild is a team basically! 

Kirishima : we go on missions together and earn more prizes 

Kirishima : its better than playing solo and you level up faster!

Bakugo : just join my guild.

StarHae : um…

Kirishima : bakugo is the guild master and i'm his vice captain! 

Kirishima : please join us!

Kirishima : we need one more player so we can do the clan war 

StarHae : um…. whats a clan war? 

Bakugo : you have got to be kidding me.

Kirishima : ah basically all the guilds compete in challenges 

Kirishima : its sometimes quests but we fight with other guilds in matches sometimes

Kirishima : whoever wins gets 10k gold and rare items!!! 

Bakugo : tch this is taking forever 

Kirishima : bakugooo cmon have patience

Kirishima : if we get first then the guild gets popular and more people will join! 

Bakugo : tch we WILL win stupid. 

Kirishima : so will you join us star? 

Kirishima : you'll level up super quick with us! 

As Kirishima explains this all to her, Y/N thinks about this offer. It's not bad at all, and there seems to be advantages to being in a clan. Her level is so low compared to theirs, is it okay for her to just join them so easily? 

StarHae : are you sure you guys want me? 

StarHae : my level is only 15…

Bakugo : tch we know idiot just join or else

Kirishima : our clan has only 5 members 

Kirishima : and you need 6 minimum to participate! 

Kirishima : your level doesn't matter 

Kirishima : dont worry we will protect you!

Bakugo : speak for yourself shitty hair 

Bakugo : just click accept.

Kirishima : pretty please? 

Kirishima : we need a sixth member by today or registration closes!

Kirishima : star dont worry

Kirishima : we can teach you as we play :3 

Bakugo : -_-

After that explanation, a small tab opens on her screen, an invitation to join the guild ‘The Bakusquad’. Y/N looks as Kirishima runs around her avatar in circles trying to convince her, while Bakugo is busy spamming her mailbox with many invitations. She sighs in defeat, this was supposed to be just a calm game for her to play once a while but….. Click! 

Accepted Invitation : The Bakusquad

Y/N watches as the explosion guild emblem appears on her head, the three of them now having matching symbols. Kirishima's chibi avatar now jumping up and down in front of her, clearly happy. The guild button suddenly starts blinking in gold obviously wanting her to click on it. She does and sees she now has the option to teleport into the guilds HQ and have access to the guild chat room and quests. 

Bakugo : tch finally

Bakugo : ill sign us up for the guild war now

Kirishima : thank you star!

Kirishima : you totally saved us!!!!

Adam : can you guys leave now?!

Adam : your spamming the chat!!!! 

Elis : Yeah shush it!!!

Bakugo : HAHH 

Bakugo : FIGHT ME YOU EXTRAS

Kirishima : ah sorry guys ;( 

Y/N couldn't help but burst out laughing at the random messages and the way Kirishima's avatar was bowing in apologies to the random players. While Bakugo was spouting more profanities to the people who were typing in chat. At least this was entertaining, yet what has she gotten herself into….

—

It's been around 2 weeks since Y/N has joined the guild and to her surprise she is having a blast. Unlike solo quests she can level up much quicker now, to prove it she’s currently level 40! Now she has the option to equip a kit which is very useful for the upcoming event, it unlocks new attacks and weapons available to use. 

“Hm… I think I want to be a mage. I'm not very good at close combat and no one in our guild is one yet. So I'll choose this! Plus I can help give my guild mates some boosts and protection spells!” she says happily with a smile as she makes her selection. She clicks on the mage option and squeals with excitement as she receives her new gear. An enchanted cloak with an adorable dress and boots. She even got a wizard hat and a wooden staff for her spells! 

Y/N didn't waste her money on outfits before, wanting to save it for the future. So this new look was certainly needed! Especially for this week.

It's gonna be the first time since the guild wars started that they'll be fighting another clan. Up til now they've just been completing clan quests like raiding dungeons. Soon it's gonna be her first fight against other players so she's more nervous than she expected. She doesn't want to let her new team down. 

Since she joined she has met all the other members of the guild. Kaminari, Sero and Mina! All of them are nice and often talk in the guild chat whenever they're online. Apparently they go to the same school and forced Bakugo to play with them. Hence why Bakugo is never online whenever clan stuff happens, only joining if 6 players are needed for a specific task. Then leaving right after whenever it finishes. He never turned on his mic either. He's a  complete mystery to her. 

The game offered voice chat for clan members so Y/N and the others often talk on there instead. At first she was hesitant, inserting herself into a new group that already knows each other. Yet she found herself enjoying her time in the presence of these people. She never thought this game would lead to new friends yet here they are. 

Soon the day of the first guild vs guild match came. 

Y/N starts up her computer and logs into the game, feeling a bit uneasy about the outcome of this match. If they lose then they won't be able to qualify for the next round. Thankfully she practiced with the rest of the guild beforehand to strengthen their teamwork skills. However not once has Bakugo joined them on their practice matches. She can only hope this won't cause a problem later on. 

She sees the other members already at HQ and chatting happily through the proximity voice chat they have activated. No nervousness at all detected in their tone. 

 “Ah Star you're here!” Kirishima says as his avatar runs over to her excitedly.

“Heyoooo, we're just waiting for Blasty to join in” Kaminari adds on with his usual hyper tone as he chases Sero around the table who shouts out a quick “Hey Star!” 

“There's my fellow gal! Was worried you wouldn't show up, girl! Thank you for not leaving me with these dummies” Mina says happily as she walks over to the group. 

“Sorry sorry but i'm here now” Y/N says softly with a smile to everyone as her eyes scan the guild room. And a few seconds later, Bakugos avatar teleports inside the room with fresh new battle gear. It looks both enchanted and incredibly rare. 

“Wow man! So this is what you've been doing while you were alone huh?” Sero says as everyone starts crowding around Bakugo to admire his armor. Bakugo says nothing back in voice chat as usual and simply types.

Bakugo : get away from me you damn extras

Bakugo : be ready

Bakugo : we start in 1 minute

Bakugo : don't die.

Everyone scrambles to equip their best armor and gear, it's complete chaos as everyone asks for extra supplies and potions. Y/N already was prepared beforehand so she calmly stands to the side and waits. She watches as Bakugos avatar approaches her and stands there almost observingly. Ah he hasn't joined in a while so he must've just now seen the new kit she equipped for the first time. 

Bakugo : You're a mage? 

Y/N reads the chat box and nervously types back, now seemingly too shy to speak through her mic. She hasn't spoken much to Bakugo in general but she wants to earn his approval. He's the guild master after all. But she can't help but to feel a bit intimidated by him.

StarHae : Yes I can offer support and do long distance attacks :3 

She watches as his avatar stares at her for a while, silently analyzing her new look and skills she presumes. It takes a while, so long that she wonders if he's gone AFK right in front of her after the message. Until she sees a short chat bubble appear in the corner. 

Bakugo : Good. 

A bright smile forms on her face at his message. Sure, it was short and blunt. But from Bakugo? She'll take this as a massive compliment. She watches as he quickly leaves her side to start the battle. From his message alone, she feels motivated to do her best. Hopefully they will. 

It was now time for the guild battle to start. Once Bakugo made sure everyone was prepared, all 6 of them got teleported in front of their castle HQ. The building seemingly teleported onto the battlefield in the middle of a forest. 

“Let's do this!” “Yeah, let's go!” “Just follow bakubro!” “On it!’ 

The group of 6 slowly walk through the woods, cautious of any potential traps or ambushes from the other guild. It's 3 rounds in total without a chance to respawn til a new round starts. 1 life each round. The other guild must be doing the same thing, sneaking around the forest trying to find us. 

“A forest huh” a deeper voice echoed through her headphones, so rough yet smooth that it made her jump a little. Huh? 

“Finally using voice chat huh Bakubro?” Kirishima responds eagerly as he chuckles at the end. You can basically hear the smile on his face from just his voice. 

“Tch shut it shitty hair. Can't type while we're fucking fighting against another guild” Bakugo responds with a small scoff. The others snicker through the mic making Bakugo grunt in response.

“Oi Star, get over here to the front” he says in a somewhat commanding tone. 

His voice…. It's the first time she's ever heard it. She didn't expect that at all. Its deep but nice to hear-

“Oi! Mage! You have ears don't you?” he huffs out seeming to already be annoyed. Ah so he DOES talk in the same way he types. Guess that answers the question she's had for weeks. 

“O-Oh! Yes yes! Sorry i'm going” she says quickly as her head shakes to stop her daydreaming. Her cheeks feel warm to the touch from embarrassment and she's forever thankful this game doesn't have a webcam feature. Or she might really die from shame. 

Her small character quickly runs to get behind Bakugo who's currently leading the group. His avatar looks back at her for a moment then forward again. Clearing leaves and making a path for the group. 

“So that's how you sound like huh” he mumbles almost incoherently through the mic. It makes her heart skip a beat oddly. God what's wrong with her. Getting flustered over a voice when she doesn't even know what he looks like. And what does he mean by that? 

“Oh yeah! You're rarely online so you've never properly had a conversation with Star huh?” Kaminari says as he skips along following the group. 

Bakugo simply grunts in acknowledgement, “Hey Mage. I don't know what training you've done with these extras but just stay out of my way okay? And get ready to use buff enhancement spells on me” he orders out to her.  

Sero sighs at his friend's snappy remark, “Don't mind him Star, he's always like that. Just do your best, we got your back”.  

“Mhm… I know… I'll try-” she says but quickly gets cut off when shots are fired towards the group from the other side of the forest. 

The rounds have begun. 

It didn't take a genius to predict the Bakusquad would easily take the first round. When Y/N watched Bakugo run into the open battlefield attacking with no mercy, she knew he was a force to be reckoned with. She was in a trance as he sent out orders to the rest of them, giving them better positioning to win this. He was amazing, too good. 

So much as when the second round approached, the other guild changed tactics and decided to focus solely on Bakugo. Sending all their attacks at him at once, to which Bakugo must've predicted as he yelled out to Y/N, “Defence spell!” 

“On it!” she says as the spell charges up and envelopes Bakugos character in a green force shield. Healing some minor damage taken as well, a nice bonus she learned a few days ago while training. 

With that everyone except Y/N runs out to take the enemies down at closer ranger. A full fledged group attack and an array of magic blending in the air, metal clashing against each other as well. She tries her best to heal her guildmates while hiding behind the rock, occasionally sending out spells to slow the other guilds movements down. 

Unfortunately she wasn't quick enough to cast a protective spell on Kirishima and Kaminari. Both of them disappearing with a poof as they were cut down by the enemies. Though they didn't die in vain as they took 2 down with them. Mina and Sero successfully took out their foes, winning their individual battles. 

2 PLAYERS REMAINING

Quickly her eyes roamed across the battlefield, the other enemy was currently fighting against Bakugo in a heated clash of swords. Sero and Mina were both low on HP but nonetheless started running towards him to help him out. The Bakusquad had the advantage of 2 extra players, this could be a clean sweep. However her confidence was short-lived as Y/N spotted someone in the air hovering above them. A wizard casting a spell as a large fireball started to form in the sky. This was no low level wizard, bad news. 

“Guys look out!” she says as she emerges from her spot and starts running towards them. Y/N is low on energy and she has no more berries to replenish her magic. Thinking about her options she makes a beeline to Bakugo, “Sorry you two just trust me on this!!!” 

She quickly clicks on her limited spell options, there's enough energy to cast one final spell. This might be a risky move but it's the best one in her opinion. Sero and Mina are both extremely low on HP while Bakugo has more. She quickly approaches Bakugo who got  knocked back by the other player. 

“Bakugo!” Y/N calls out as she runs behind him and holds onto his avatar with one arm while the other rests on his back.

“Oi! What are you doing?! I told you to not get in my way!” Bakugo yells out as the enemy he was fighting starts charging at the two. Y/N ignores him as she quickly puts a protective bubble around Bakugo, the attacker falling back as his sword hits the barrier. She focuses hard and gives any last bit of her energy to him knowing what's coming next, he'll need it. 

“You got this Bakugo! I believe in you!”

Before he could respond, the wizard from earlier shoots the fireball down onto the ground, with a large blast. As predicted Sero and Mina were eliminated by that large blast due to their previous low health. Y/N knew she didn't have enough magic left to protect more than one person, so she decided to put her trust in Bakugo. He was their guildmaster after all, and she knows that the others would have agreed with this decision instead. Her avatar in one swoop, dissolves into thin air from that explosion. 

The green shield she casted on him earlier dissolves immediately but leaves Bakugo unharmed from the attack. Without a second thought he rushed his previous opponent and cut him down. Easily making this a 1v1 with the wizard floating in the sky. 

He curses under his breath as he looks up at the wizard and then back at the spot where Y/N sacrificed herself. He ponders for a moment just frozen on the battlefield as the other guy starts zooming down on his broom.

“Now I'm pissed off” he mumbles to himself as he glares up at the last remaining enemy. 

It was an intense battle but he knew he needed to win. Bakugo doesn't take anything else but a perfect victory, and he refuses having to go to round 3. With this new motivation, he sends attack after attack towards the foe. Taking advantage of the energy Y/N gave to him before she was eliminated. Somehow, he managed to break the wizards broom with his moves, leaving the enemy completely defenseless. After losing his main way to escape, it was a solid victory for the blonde. 

Was anyone really shocked? 

After the victory was granted, the guild was teleported back into HQ. Everyone celebrated and cheered through their mics. But it seems like another person had a different thing in mind. Almost immediately, Bakugo walked straight to her once they respawned at base, not saying a single word to anyone else. 

“Don't pull that self sacrificing crap ever again ya got that?” he spats out as he approaches and stands in front of her. Kirishima quickly tries to deescalate the situation, “Hey man relax! Because of her we won-” 

“We would have won either way shitty hair so shut it” he huffs out pushing Kirishima's avatar out of the way. His avatar grabs her hand and pulls her to the side, away from everyone else. The others watch nervously and attempt to approach but Bakugos avatar turns back around causing them to stay. It was funny to see his chibi character look so scary, he might be the only person in the world that can do that. He looks back at her and sighs seemingly calmer than before. 

“Oi if you pull a stunt like that again i'll kill you myself. I don't enjoy watching my teammates die because of me ya hear me? I dont give a damn if it's just a game” he huffs out as he drops her arm. 

“Got it… sorry” she says shyly through the mic as she tries processing his words. A moment of silence passes between them until he speaks.

“....what's your name anyways?” he says with a softer tone almost as if he's aware of her nervousness. 

“Huh? It’s Star-” 

“Tch. No you idiot. I mean your real name.” 

“Oh…..” she can already feel her face grow hotter the more he speaks to her. Seriously, what's up with this? I guess she should tell him, she hasn't told the others yet either. She doesn't understand why she feels a bit self conscious now but she knows it's because of him, “...Y/N. It's Y/N.” 

“Y/N” he repeats back to her. Her name sounds oddly better whenever he says it. She likes it. She wants him to say it again. 

“Log onto the game at the same time tomorrow” he says as he takes off his expensive armor. 

“Huh? Why? Is there some sort of mission? 

“Because I said so. And don't tell the other extras. So you're gonna join or what?”

“Wait, why can't I tell anyone?” she says confused as she tilts her head. 

“Cause me and you are gonna train alone! You need to practice, don't need you to pull another stunt like you did today. So we're training tomorrow before the next battle” he groans at her slowness. 

“Just… me and you?” Y/N responds a little happier than normal, the idea makes her feel… special to just receive training from him. 

“Hah? Yeah didn't you just hear me! Now don't go blabbering to the other extras, it's a secret.” 

“Okay! I promise I'll join!” she quickly says with a smile. 

“Good. Now i'm logging off, wasted too much time today” he huffs and clicks some buttons about to disconnect. 

“Ah bye-” but before she could finish her sentence his character disappeared. 

Bakugo has disconnected. 

“That jerk! He totally left without saying bye!” Mina says as Y/N walks back over to the group. 

“Hey Star! What were you and Blasty talking about? We couldn't hear from all the way over here” Kaminari chimes in with a hint of curiosity. 

Y/N remembers her conversation with Bakugo and keeps her lips sealed, she was looking forward to tomorrow after all, “Um nothing! He was just telling me to not get in his way haha..” 

“Sheesh! Seriously, that guy is a hot head to the bone. Don't mind him Star, he was just embarrassed being saved by you of all people. Since you're new and all” Sero says while he snickers with Kirishima. 

“Well that should be it for today you guys! It's getting late, so we should log off. Good work today!” Kirishima says happily as they all say goodnight and eventually logging off. 

Y/N clicks the button on her computer, shutting it off as she stretches. She sighs and leans back in her chair. Smiling to herself about tonight. Maybe tomorrow she'll finally get to impress a certain blonde in the game.

-time skip- 

“That's 10 losses for you and none for me. You're worse at close combat then I thought” Bakugo huffs out as they have a break from training. Eating some berries to gain some of their energy back. Bakugo surprisingly has been using his mic lately which is something she's certainly not complaining about. They have been secretly training together for about a whole week now. Practicing together for hours each day. Yet she hasn't won to him once yet.

Way to go on impressing him y/n…. 

“I can't do it! I'm a mage, close attacks aren't my specialities” she says with a sigh at her failed attempts from earlier. 

“I've seen plenty of mages be good at close attacks. You just gotta try harder idiot” he says as he stands back up ready for another round of training. 

“I don’t know…” Y/N says not wanting to get up and add another inevitable loss to her name. She was embarrassed at him seeing her struggle so much, she just wants to crawl in a hole and never come out. 

“Y/N” he says through the mic in a rough yet soft tone. 

Bump. Bump. Bump. 

Her heart quickens at the sound once again. It's been like this ever since that day he first said her name.

“Y-Yeah Bakugo?” 

“Stand up and fight. No one in my guild is weak, ya got that? Tch cmon dumbass” Bakugo scoffs out as he walks over and picks her character up like a sack of potatoes. He leads them both towards the training grounds again, “If you lose then you try again. If you win you keep training. There's always room for improvement, so get that into your skull. No one is perfect.” 

“Even you Bakugo?” she says with a smile at his kind words hidden under his blunt way of speaking. Over time she's gotten used to him by now and knows he means no harm.

“Eh i'm almost there though” he huffs as he speaks in a serious yet cocky tone.

Something about the way he said that compared to his earlier words was amusing to her. He was cocky of course, yet he knew that even he had limits. She couldn't help but to burst out in laughter through her mic. Her stomach felt heavy from the laughs escaping her mouth

“Hahhhhhh?! What's so funny?! You picking a fight?!” 

“Sorry sorry! It's just that you're cute” she says in between giggles while putting a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. She didn't even realize what she said at the time, that her inner thoughts slipped out for a split moment. 

Silence was on his end of the mic while she was busy laughing. She calms down eventually when his character completely froze mid walk.

“Hm? Bakugo?”

“What did you…. Erm, actually I'm logging off for today!”

“Huh?! Why?” 

“Because I'm tired, you idiot! Now log off and get some rest!” 

A split of a second later his avatar disappeared, her character falling on the ground, no longer being held up by him. She blinks a few times at her screen confused then logs off as a result. Guess Bakugo got tired of training I suppose. 

After that incident, she noticed that Bakugo hadn't logged into the game for a whole week. Y/N asked around yet the Bakusquad didn't know why either. Apparently he was just busy and didn't have the time to join. She felt a bit disappointed whenever she joined and he wasn't around. Her eyes always scanned the room in hopes of seeing him. 

Until one day she logged in and there he was alone, fixing and adjusting his gear. Quickly she waddles her avatar over, “Bakugo there you are!” she says with a bright smile clearly happy. She sees the way he pauses then turns to look at her, just staring at her for a moment before…

Bakugo : Yeah im here. 

Huh? Why is he not talking… 

“Why… are you not talking with your mic?” she decides to ask hesitantly, the smile slowly dropping from her face. 

Bakugo : Cause

Bakugo : Don't wanna. 

Y/N nervously fidgets with her fingers as she reads the chat. He always used his mic now whenever they were alone. Did she perhaps do something wrong? So he's back to how he used to be? She doesn't like that…. 

“U-Um…..” she speaks before she can think. Her eyes shut as she says her next words, forever thankful no one is around. 

“....I wanna hear your voice… please” 

Silence. 

After no response she says it again in case he didn't hear her. 

“I missed your voice” 

It's quiet for a moment and she's too scared to open her eyes and see in case he responded in chat. That came out weird didn't it? God she's embarrassed. Maybe she should just log out-

“You're an odd one ya know that?” 

His voice echoes through her ears causing her eyes to snap open. Her whole body felt incredibly hot to the touch. He actually turned on his mic for her? He sounds…. less hostile than normal too. Softer. 

“I'm not the nicest guy. Why would you want me to talk in the first place” he scoffs out loud but she can hear the hesitance in his words. Like he wants her to answer him. 

“Because… I like the sound of your voice and talking to you makes me happy!” she says a bit too eager to please him. She mentally facepalms at her cheesy words. 

“Y-You….” he stumbles over his words like he's caught off guard at her boldness. He huffs and continues, “C'mon your level is still too low! Have you not been training while I was gone?! We have to train more!” 

His avatar starts walking to the training grounds with purpose expecting her to follow. 

“Oh okay!” she says as the smile returns to her face, excited to spend more time with him. As they exit HQ and walk together towards the forest, he speaks once more almost as soft as a whisper. 

“....I like it too” 

“Hm? Like what?” 

“Your voice.” 

He speeds up his walking pace so he's far ahead of her, leaving her behind in a complete daze. Was he embarrassed? 

Her hands rise up from the keyboard and cover her warm face as she processes what just happened. But her smile only grew wider. If she only knew how red faced the blonde was behind his monitor. Maybe joining this guild wasn't so bad after all.

[soshinysochrome]

How are you so good at ikeaframe/orbiter fashion... share some tricks on how to get pieces to get into position you want, most versatile decoration pieces (that can be used in many different ways, what are your favorites?); on a less serious note, how to farm all this standing for all the zariman wall panels ;A;'

So, quick disclaimer: I play Warframe on PC and have never played on console, so all of my answers will be oriented to PC controls.

Edit: This got quite detailed, so I may wind up making this a multi-part Thing.

Positioning:

Understand the anchor point; this is the point on an object that cannot pass through other objects and around which it is oriented. To find it, select an object and right-click to orient it; where the 3 different orientation guiding lines fall is an object's anchor point.

Understand orientation; if you hit Tab to turn on advanced mode it will show this, but I'll put it here for good measure. There are 3 planes of movement: up-down, left-right, and forward-backwards. R controls the orientation marked by the red arrow, F by the green arrow, and X by the blue. (If you have selected an item with your mouse, you can also hold X to 'push' an object, but I don't use this often as the direction and depth can be hard to predict.)

Grid and angle snapping are your friends! They're going to make your life a lot easier when you need to place objects at consistent distances, angles, etc. Now that you can angle things by degrees of 1 or 5, it's a lot easier now to make small adjustments without having to turn off angle snapping. Also: one way to ensure consistent distancing is to choose another feature (e.g. lines on the ground) and use that as a reference point. This is something that I use a lot especially when decorating my clan's dojo.

Using F to duplicate objects, and using C/V to scale them up/down will help when placing multiples of the same object so they will be the same size and orientation. It's also a time saver so you don't have to size and orient every single object you place. (If you're going to scale something all the way up or down, just hold R and use your mouse to quickly get it to size.)

Using Z to change how you can orient objects. 'World' will orient the object in relation to how it's been placed. 'Local' will orient the object based on its anchor point. (If this doesn't make sense, I encourage you to experiment to understand the difference!)

Sometimes, even when using grid and angle snapping, things won't quite line up right. That's when you want to turn off grid snapping to make small adjustments. Ideally, you would hover your mouse over the object and then hit R to turn on constrained movement. When doing this, I suggest only adjusting one plane at a time (R, X, F); for example, moving it left or right, then saving it to lock in that adjustment before trying to move it up/down or forward/backward.

If you've moved an object and dislike the result, instead of saving it, hit Esc. It will put the object back to where it was before you messed with it.

Experiment! Sometimes redzones will get in the way, but you never know what areas are available to be decorated until you give it a shot. Rotate objects every which way to see the different sides and features; for example, I had no use for the Entrati Serpentine Chair until I realized that I could use the underside to decorate the walls.

Sometimes an object just won't behave the way you want it to; if it's a symmetrical object, try turning it around. This is a big one when you're trying to get 2 objects to touch, but the anchor point is getting in the way. In the case of the Zariman wall panels, if you look at it from the side you'll notice that one side bevels out, while the other is completely flat; I put the curved side down, which is how I was able to have that nice flat, flush wooden flooring and on the ceiling.

Hopefully you find this helpful; I also suggest looking up tutorials on YouTube! They were especially helpful in making me understand how anchor points and orientation work, since they also have visuals for you to accompany the explanation.

I'll make another post addressing other parts of your questions :)

[beneaththebirches]

Liability: Part 1

Pairing: College Student!Rafe Cameron x Cousenlor!Reader

Summary: Rafe gets himself into a bit of a bind with one of the professors at Duke and is forced to see an on-campus counselor, someone he was very set on hating. But she’s extremely hard to hate.

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, mentions of drugs.

A/n: First of all, I want to mention that this fic is an AU type fic; it will only include Rafe’s mildly destructive behavior and daddy issues but this does not follow allow with the Outerbanks storyline. This is a repost from my original account @sublimecatgalaxy!

“So, what brought you to Duke?” 

My head tilts curiously at him, eyes trailing over his frame as he desperately tries to not tremble like a leaf. He’s either drunk, high or anxious (or all of the above), his eyes flickering around the dimly lit room, his eyes momentarily locking with the lava lamp in the corner of the room. When he looks around, he chooses to not look directly at me but instead at the wall behind me, knee bouncing anxiously as he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. 

He resembles something close to agitation or anxiety and has since he walked in the room twenty minutes ago, not caring to say hi or introducing himself but instead just sat down on the couch across from me and decided to take his sentence in silence. It’s to be expected, especially from someone with his track record. I heard a little bit about him from the other faculty in the office and his professors, mixed reviews on his behavior but how, miraculously, his grades show the opposite.

Crossing my legs, I ready the notebook in my lap, pen tapping against the paper as I wait for him to answer my nth question of the night. After a few minutes of uncomfortable and unfortunate silence, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath before adjusting himself on the couch, eyes flickering up to look at the ticking clock on the wall.

“‘s a good college.” He shrugs simply, eyes flickering up to mine briefly as I let out a small sigh of relief at the sound of his deep voice. His back cracks as he leans back into the couch, biting at his lip as he watches my pen scribble aimlessly across my notepad. I can tell he wants to ask what I’m writing, which is the reason why I lifted the pen to draw a simple smiley face in the first place, knowing the thought of me analyzing him would drive him crazy.

“I’ve seen your grades, you should be proud.” The shocked uptick of his brows makes me laugh quietly to myself, taken back by his response to the simple praise. He nods sternly, a faint blush spreading across the tops of his cheekbones. “So why the self sabotage?” I quiz and his brows furrow cutely.

“What?”

“Keying a professor’s car?” His eyes immediately roll at the recollection of his transgressions, the events that brought him to my office three times a week. There’s a part of me that thinks he’s embarrassed, eyes low as he toys with the thick ring on his thumb but I can see the desperate need to defend himself behind his eyes, but instead he chooses the path of least resistance. 

“Got angry.” He answers simply but it’s not enough for me.

“Yeah, you have a history of that.” I sigh, placing his records on the table in front of him, giving up the gimmick of ‘good cop’, trying to get through to him as a counselor, but it took very little time to realize my coworkers were right- he’d never trust my authority- the little authority I have. He picks the papers up tentatively, almost looking at me with a ‘should I be seeing this?’ look but indulges anyways, flipping through the pages with a tight jar.

Folding my legs beneath me, a sad smile spreads across my lips as he tosses the sheets back onto the table in front of me, his fists clenching in his lap. I can’t tell if his anger stems from insecurities regarding his own actions or if he’s angry that others have had a view into his darker past. I can tell that he’s a closed off guy, that he doesn’t open up unless it’s mandatory and even then, he attempts desperately to not share, to not open up. 

“Look, Rafe, you have to do this- talk to me, I mean. You’re lucky you got mandatory counseling instead of mandatory jail time.” I laugh, trying to desperately ease the tension in the room but he doesn’t crack, just stares down at the packet of paper between us with uneasy eyes. But after a few minutes, my staring breaks through his tough exterior, a heavy sigh leaving him as he finally looks up at me, taken back by my comfortable stance. He mirrors me, folding a leg over his other before tossing his hands up in surrender.

“What do you want from me?” 

“Answer the questions I’ve gotta ask you, ask questions of your own- hell, talk about football or something that’s bugging you.” He cringes at the offer, his eyes fluttering shut to briefly imagine what it would be like if he had taken the punishment the professor originally wanted to force upon him but instead he’s stuck with the peppiest counselor he’ll ever encounter. 

“Are you an actual therapist?” He asks curiously, attempting to take a jab at my credentials but my smile only grows, happy that he’s taking a step in the right direction. 

“I have a masters degree in psychology.” My finger jabs up at the wall to his left, blue eyes following my direction to three diplomas on the wall.

I certainly never expected to end up in a university, tending to the most fucked up age group in the country- my generation. I wanted to go into forensics, to get into the grittiness of the mental psyche but you’d be amazed by the messed up shit you see on college campuses- the dorms, the streets late at night, the blackmail and betrayals. Some of the students that I see, like Rafe, are in mandatory counseling, probably to heal from academic issues or destructive tendencies. But others are girls looking for a way out of toxic relationships, young students who wish so desperately to come out to their parents, or the occasional meltdown where a student just needs me to listen.

 Maybe Rafe needs someone to just listen.

Either way, I’d never go back and change anything that led me to this couch right now.

“A masters- how old are you anyways?” He asks, suddenly confused at the math as he leans towards the diploma to look at the year it was dated. With a shocked huff, he turns back to me with wide eyes, elbows resting on his knees and I let out a small bashful laugh.

“I’m 23.” 

“Oh.” He mutters, shifting in his seat before adding, “I’m 20.” A fond smile stretches across my lips at his subtle attempt to connect, his quiet voice almost boyish and innocent. I’m not sure the connection was intentional or if he’s sizing me up but either way, the realization in our closeness in age sparks something in him, his discomfort seeming to fade more and more as our times goes on.

“I know. I have your chart.” I lift the binder from beside me into the air, waving it back and forth.

“What else is in there?” He asks, fingers rubbing along his jaw as his eyes seem to focus on his name that’s spelled across the front of the binder in big black letters.

“You’re 20, you have a 3.6 GPA, you’re majoring in Developmental Psych- which is interesting to me.” I snort, wanting nothing but to dive deeper into his psyche and understand why a smart, handsome athlete is majoring in something as specific as developmental psychology. They say people go into a psych degree to learn something about themselves, their past or their family. So, in Rafe’s case, which is it? “You’re a tight-end on our varsity football team, you came from the Outer Banks-” There’s a sense of tension that thickens the atmosphere around us at the mention of his hometown, his shoulders rolling and head tilting so he can direct his attention out the window to look at the setting sun,  his strong jaw squared. “I can also see that you spent two nights in jail, you’ve been arrested for drug possession and illegal possession of a weapon-” 

“You’ve got my full rap-sheet over there?” He snaps, voice no longer playful but instead he’s seething, brows furrowed as I pause, eyes widening at him briefly, almost asking him ‘may I continue’ without actually saying it. I fight the urge to ask him all of my questions at once; ‘why are you such a troublemaker?’, ‘why the need for drugs?’, ‘why’d you leave your hometown?’- but instead I bite my tongue.

“You’re not giving me anything else to go off of.” I whisper tiredly, anxiously looking up at the clock, wondering if we’ll even end up getting anywhere in this session and/or if I’ll be able to count it as a part of his punishment. A look of realization passes through his expression, his handsome face relaxing with a gentle nod. “You’re not exactly an open book.” He smiles sadly to himself, eyes focused down at his lap.

Take the path of least resistance, Rafe.

“What do you wanna know?” He gives in, clasping his hands in front of him as I grin, prepared to take full advantage of my power and make him laugh, something I’ve heard he doesn’t do often.

“What’s your favorite color-”

“Oh now you’ve overstepped.” He says, dead serious, but after a few moments of silence he breaks into quiet laughter, a shocked scoff leaving me at his teasing. “My favorite color- really? I keyed a car and this is my punishment?” He asks incredulously, scooting to the edge of his seat, the distance between us only lessening as I bite back a nervous smile, focusing on the job at hand- my job at hand.

“The point of counseling is to have breakthroughs and to form a relationship based on trust and open communication.” He cringes at my explanation, a look of discomfort passing through his eyes as he sucks in a breath. “You don’t seem like the trusting type but I’m willing to take my time.” My voice comes out ten times more flirtatious than I intended it to but it causes his whole body to pause, eyes looking up at me with a teasing look, the gears behind his eyes to turn. “To be honest, I have a bit of a habit of growing on people.” He snorts, biting at his lip.

“I gathered that.” He breathes, running his fingers through his hair before giving it a small tug.

“Are you saying I’m growing on you, Cameron- it’s been like a half an hour.” I tease, loving the innocent blush that covers his pale cheeks as he instantly tries to deny, head shaking immediately in defiance. It’s hard to imagine him doing all of the bad things I know he’s done, things that are more extreme and way beyond vandalism. He seems almost awkward at times, boyish and bashful as he’s slowly sinking into the comfort of my office and my prying- far from the man depicted in his records. 

“New record?”

“New record for sure.”

“Does that mean I’m free to go?” He quizzes and he blows out a breath, rubbing his clammy hands against the tops of his jeans. I ponder letting him go ten minutes early but there’s a part of me that isn’t quite ready to set him free from my clutches just yet.

“Sure.” His eyes light up at my agreement but before he can stand, I hold up a pointed finger at him, urging him to sit his butt back down. “On one condition.” He agrees almost immediately before knowing my true demand, head bobbing in an agreeable nod.

“Shoot.”

“Hand over your phone.” His face pales at my instructions, eyes staring at my open palm that sticks out to him, waiting for him to do what I said. He looks like a deer in headlights right before a catastrophic crash, tongue slipping out to wet his cracked lips as he stutters.

“Wha-”

“Give it.” I ask again, stern voice forcing a shaky, nervous laugh from him as he goes fishing in his pocket. He hands it over to me without any questions, his eyes watching me like a hawk as I go into his contacts, adding myself as ‘best counselor’.  “Only call or text if you’re having an emotional emergency and/or feel like doing something mildly self destructive.” I laugh but as I hand back his phone, he just shakes his head, brows furrowed in confusion as he stares down at the contact. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” I ask and he shrugs. “Why care?” The nod he gives me is almost sad, my heart aching in my chest at the thought of him being so out of touch when it comes to having people that care about him, people that want to see him succeed and to not key professors’ cars. “Because, it’s what I do. Get used to it.” Slipping his phone back into his pocket, I make my way to my feet and he does the same, awkwardly shuffling towards the door. His hand hesitates to reach out towards the handle, neck craning to look back at me with a desperate expression.

“You know that’s like asking a fish to breathe air, right?”

“Better learn.” I shrug, crossing my arms across my chest as he huffs, pouting like a child. Reaching out, I push him playfully towards the door as he groans, head tilting back at his steps out into the busy hallway. “Behave!”

“You got it!”What a liar.

[avonne-writes]

Happy birthday! I just wanted to tell you that you're the best fan fiction writer I've come across in 20+ years ♥️

Can I ask for the [coffee] prompt? Gale manages to get hold of some coffee beans in the stalag and makes a cup of real coffee for John. Even better if he has to hide it from all the other inmates ☺️

My dear, this has been in my inbox for months, waiting for me to finally get to it! I'm sorry that it took me this long, especially because this was an original prompt. Thank you so much for your sweet message, I appreciate it so much! 🩷❤️ The drabble I'm posting below is part of a longer fic which will be posted on AO3 when it’s finished. It’s set in my a/b/o au (core idea here, drabble here).

The last fading rays of summer warmth are pushed away by the deepening chill of the night when the sun sets. It’s only September, but the walls of their prison seem to grow colder with each night, and the barbed wire fence looks taller every miserable morning. How long can a bird stay alive with its wings clipped, locked inside a cage that only lets it see the light, never feel it? And is it life at all?

It's been almost a year, and there's no end in sight. Only the mindless, final darkness, the one that beckons Bucky persistently every time the pains of his body and soul grow too heavy to bear without howling. If he and Gale hadn't bonded before their capture, he would've given in to that call already.

But they had, so here Bucky is. Still hungry, still cold, curled up in his bunk because Gale fussed the whole night and pushed him away every time Bucky touched him. Not even his own mate wants Bucky anymore.

“John.” He hears Gale's voice, quiet and warm, close to his ear as Gale leans over him. A hand shakes Bucky's shoulder, then slides down to his elbow in a caress. “The weather is so nice outside.”

“So what?” Bucky grunts, fed up with the morning sunshine that streams in through the flimsy curtains. How dare it tempt him with joy when he can’t even take a breath deep enough to remember freedom.

Gale shakes him again. His scent is so sweet that if Bucky closes his eyes, he can imagine that this is just another morning at Thorpe, and his mate is in a good mood. “Come, walk with me.”

Illusion shattered, Bucky shrugs Gale's grip off. “I'm not your dog.”

There's a pause, then a sigh. Gale squeezes Bucky's arm, then Bucky hears the thud of his boots as he walks away. The door opens and closes with a click.

“You should get it together, man. You're still mates, are you not?” Jefferson's voice rings from behind him, and it pisses Bucky off. What fucking business of his is it if he and Gale are still mates or not? He shouldn't say shit about things he doesn’t understand.

His irritation is enough fire to make Bucky turn around and rise from the bed, but Jefferson is already halfway out the door, scoffing at him, and Bucky isn’t quite angry enough to chase after him. He growls and drops into a chair at their small table, dealing a pack of cards to play imaginary poker against himself. From the corner of his eye, he notices the stares Crank and DeMarco shoot him, but they also go out after a few minutes, leaving him blessedly alone in silence.

For a while, it feels good. Time is beyond his perception, has been for who knows how long now. It's just one of those things that doesn’t seem to matter anymore. He plays and loses against himself, always loses, then just drops the cards and stares at the strip of light crawling across the wooden floorboards. Guilt starts to tickle at the corners of his eyes and throbs at his temples like a headache. He didn’t mean to be so rude to Gale, but last night left him in a mood even worse than usual. He should probably find the strength to go out, join the others and apologize to him. Touch the mark on Gale’s neck if he's still willing to let him. 

Bucky's just about to push himself to his feet when the door swings open and Gale comes back inside. He looks frazzled and pale as a sheet, although it's hard to tell if that's the general effect of the stalag or something new. He puts his hands on his hips and paces around a bit, shooting Bucky quick glances as if gearing himself up to speak.

“What happened?” Bucky asks, frowning.

“Nothing.” Gale licks his lips, then stills for a moment before he walks over to the table with confident steps, all of that sudden unsettled energy swallowed up by his self-control. Maybe, he’s nervous that Bucky will gnash his teeth at him like a feral animal again. When he sits down and meets Bucky's eyes, Bucky sighs.

“Look.” Bucky starts, leaning forward and holding his hand out. He leaves it there even though Gale doesn’t take it. “I'm sorry for this morning. Didn’t mean to lash out like that.”

Gale considers him for a beat of silence, then nods, somber. “Apology accepted.”

He glances down at his lap, then pulls something out of the pocket of his trousers. When he looks at Bucky again, his eyes are soft and loving like they used to be before they learned how fragile the good things in life are. “Do you know what day it is?”

Bucky puffs his cheeks out, his eyebrows quirking up in a way that clearly amuses Gale. “Haven't a clue, doll. I'm wearing my Sunday best though, just in case.”

Gale huffs, shaking his head with a fond twist to his mouth. Something about the movement makes him wince, but he composes himself quickly. “It’s the 8th, John.”

Oh.

A dull pain starts in Bucky's chest and radiates out into the rest of his body. He can’t believe he forgot. He can’t believe that this moment came. The first time he spends 8 September as a prisoner of war, instead of laughing and celebrating with the love of his life.

Gale puts the small package he pulled out of pocket on the table between them. “I couldn’t get you any whiskey.” He says with wry humor that pulls a joyless smile out of Bucky. “But I got you this.”

When Bucky opens the package, the scent of ground coffee hits him like the sweet promise of heaven. It’s the real stuff, he can tell instantly, not the sand and ash concoction they mix up for them on most days. If they brew this, one sip of it will give Bucky enough life for a week. Oh, just the mere thought of its taste, the faint memories still not overwritten by the bland, permeating monotone of the stalag… 

The grin pulling at Bucky’s lips isn’t tainted by manic delusions for once. It’s purely happy, devoid of the shadows that have been haunting Bucky's mind lately, and it seems to make Gale flush in an echo of joy. This small bag of coffee must have cost Gale a lot of rations, but it’s such a perfect gift that Bucky doesn’t have the heart to ruin it by asking to know its price. 

"Happy birthday." Gale says with a small smile, but when Bucky reaches for his hand, he flinches.

It's a telltale reaction that they both know well. Bucky pauses, breathes in deep, takes stock of Gale's wide pupils and the clamminess of his fingers when he touches them. There’s sweat gathering at Gale’s hairline and his cheeks look blotchy. Bucky sees him pulling his other hand back into the sleeve of his fraying sweater, one of the few comforts he has in this wretched place. The gesture makes Bucky's chest go tight.

"Are you in heat?”

The muscles around Gale's jaw clench. He doesn’t need to say a word. The look in his eyes tells Bucky everything.

“Shit.” Bucky says, his voice like a ghost’s. Departing his body as dread creeps down his throat, cold and slimy fear around his heart. His brain, the last to admit defeat, still tries to deny it. It's impossible. God can’t curse them with this now. Their fate can’t be this cruel. “But you haven't had one in a year.”

“I know.” Gale's nostrils flare.

“But -”

“You know I've run out of the goddamn pills.” He snaps, harsh and aggressive in a way he wouldn’t be in his right mind.

There's no denying it any longer. It can't be just a cold or the bitterness of captivity. They have to face this here, now, and somehow make it through.

Bucky lowers his voice placatingly. “I know, Buck, I know.” He squeezes Gale's hand. It’s a relief when Gale squeezes back. “But that was six months ago.”

Tucked inside his sleeve, Gale’s fingers clench around the fabric. His eyes stare at his boots, and he looks so frail and small that Bucky has to look away to compose himself. They're both at the end of their ropes.

“Better weather, more food…” Gale mutters, pulling his shoulders up in a helpless gesture. “I guess my body figured it was enough.”

Bucky strokes the back of Gale's hand with his thumb, feels Gale’s racing pulse at his wrist. “We're gonna get through this.”

Gale nods, but he stares at the far wall. After a moment, Bucky realizes that he’s holding his breath, as if to keep himself forcefully calm and grounded. 

“Promise me -” He starts quietly. “- that if the guards find out, you won’t get yourself killed.”

Bucky's chest tightens. He hears the fear Gale is stomping down on with all his iron willpower. “I can’t.”

Bucky’s hand is yanked forward so suddenly and with such force that Bucky hisses. Gale fists his other hand in Bucky's shirt and snarls at him from an inch away. “Promise.”

The nasty, instinctual part of Bucky aches to fight, to force Gale to back down using his alpha nature to his advantage. But, even with all the things chipping at his sanity, Bucky doesn’t want to do that to him. It wouldn’t work anyway. Not with Gale, especially not when he's in heat.

“They won't find out.” He tells Gale, cupping his scarred cheek and giving him a firm look. “I promise I'll keep you safe.”

The scent in the air turns cloyingly sweet as gratitude washes over Gale, but then he shudders, and the sweetness turns into sour fear. Gale lets go of Bucky's shirt and stands up, gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white. When he speaks, the calm tone of his voice is frightening. 

“Don’t worry about me, John. Whatever happens, I can take it.”

[sheyfu]

sun and moon ☽｡⋆

𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 a waltz takes place beneath the sun and moon.

feat. kamisato ayato (f!reader)

cw. none :)) js enjoy some tooth-rotting fluff (HELP I HOPE I DIDNT FLOP ERMMMM IM SO BAD AT WRITING ITS NOT EVFEN FUNNY ANYMORE 😓😓) (omg does 'kinda proofread' count as a cw ERMMM HASUDHUSADHA)

note. GRAHHHHHH MS SAIGON RELAPSE (i wasnt able to watch it live when they did the ph leg D: but my cousin sent the clips he took and now i cant stop watching them (especially sun and moon and the last night of the world [and the finale 😈😈😈] so you can expect [kinda] ms saigon related works HUAHDUASHDUH (gang im still tryna expand my vocab when it comes to very flowery words so HAUDHAUDH my works will [probably] get better from here trust) + this was written with miss saigon's sun and moon (specifically lea salonga and simon bowman's version) playing in the bg on repeat so yeah HWHAHAHA wc. 504

“may i have this dance with you?”

the moon casts its gentle gaze upon the beings of chinju forest — a symphony of frogs sing with the breeze as a troupe of bake-danuki accompany the piece with their dance.

in the midst of all these, a hand is offered.

"quite the romantic you are, mr. commissioner,” you show him a grin as you take his hand, slotting your bodies to form a cocoon of melody and warmth.

“only for you, milady,” the commissioner, kamisato ayato, returns your grin — his warmth radiating off your body as you fall into a steady waltz under the bed of stars.

the pair dance under the moon’s watchful gaze; the string of harmony and rhythm from the beings reduce to a gentle diminuendo as the pair lock eyes with each other.

“careful now, ayato. wouldn’t want the shuumatsuban catching their lord tripping and stepping on his lady’s feet now, do we?” a chuckle escapes from your lips as you sway to the tempo of your hearts. 

ayato brings his forehead to yours as he pulls you closer, “hm? is that so? well, lucky for me”, he abruptly turns you to face the scenery of chinju forest — his hands lay on your hips as the ghost of his breath cascades down the shell of your ear, sending chills upon its caress — your gentle waltz coming to a momentary halt. “i have a great dance teacher who coincidentally has the same name of my lady. and for all i care, those ninjas shouldn’t be intruding on their masters’ alone time. hmph.” 

laughter bubbles up in your throat as you hear the rustles of nearby bushes around you. “oh? is that right? well, care to tell me about the oh so wonderful dance teacher you have?” turning to your lover once more, you catch him in an embrace as you resume the gentle sway of your bodies. 

“we’ll be here until dawn then, my dear.” ayato sends you a gentle smile; his hand leads your head to his beating heart, gentle pats landing on it as he does the same to your shoulder. 

“if that’s the case, then i am most honoured to share this night with you.” you feel the rumble of his chest as he entertains your idea.

“well then. should we start with the part when said teacher confessed her undying love for me, her student?” a playful lilt touches upon his words as he spins you around.

"hey now. that sounds like i did something... nefarious." a small pout forms on your lips as your husband chortles at you.

as the night joins with day, their waltz continued without a misstep — the string of harmony and rhythm continue to accompany the lovers as they get lost in their own world of tell and tale.

and with the gazes of both sun and moon, they continue to sway to their own beat — holding each other tight as if it was the last night of the world.

tagging: @ayrastv

🐈‍⬛️: genshin has been added to the list of options for my taglist! please access the gform below if you'd like to be added to my taglist <3

© sheyfu on tumblr

[darcytaylor]

I understand your pain as a fellow non-shipper in this fandom. I don't know where to go anymore myself. I fully understand why you needed to step away. I often wonder if anyone is having any fun here anymore. There are entrenched narratives that are easily debunkable yet people will chop your head off if you dare to even suggest they aren't true. You can either join the entrenched echo chambers or get out, which I find absurd. I for one have been very over it for a while and I hope they don't put you off again because a more balanced space is desperately needed. There are more of us here than you'd think, we've just been beaten back from engaging because you can't reason with some corners of this site. The brainrot is alarming.

Thank you for sharing this with me, and letting me know that there are people who may be more like myself out there! I completely understand where you’re coming from - it really does feel like navigating a minefield at times in fandom spaces, especially when things become so polarized.

I love diving into the complexities of the characters in Bridgerton, but I also enjoy following the actors’ careers and seeing the variety of roles they take on or the work and things they do outside the show.

I still believe that speculating is fun and a natural part of engaging with any fandom. It can help keep the excitement alive between seasons or during gaps in content.

It’s also human nature to be curious about what’s going on behind the scenes with the actors or within their social circles. There’s nothing wrong with wondering what Nicola, Luke, or any of the Bridgerton cast are up to in their personal lives. It becomes tricky, though, when speculation turns into certainty or when people lock themselves into one interpretation of events.

I try to approach it by coming up with multiple possibilities instead of latching onto one theory and running with it. I believe that way, it stays playful and open-ended without diving into a rabbit hole of "this must be true." I also think it can be a healthier way of engaging because you’re acknowledging the unknowns while still allowing space for curiosity.

Nicola could be dating Jake, Luke (N or T), Eamon or the bartender that works down the street from her house. The options are endless! When you come to a conclusion with the little facts that we actually know, it can hinder the balance between curiosity and respect for the actors and their close circles.

I think it’s fun to explore all the possibilities without getting stuck on just one explanation. That way, I can stay open to new information and avoid getting swept up in the frenzy of needing certainty.

I think it should be about enjoying the journey rather than rushing to a definitive answer. Staying open to possibilities keeps the fandom fun while ensuring we respect the boundaries of the actors and their personal lives.

Bring on the possibilities!

[hookhausenschips]

Episode 1: Arrival in Singapore

Main Menu

Summary: Y/N arrives in Singapore for the F1 Grand Prix, instantly captivated by the city's vibrant energy and the excitement of race week. Exploring the paddock, she interacts with team officials and mechanics. Her conversation with a driver reveals a shared understanding of the racing spirit, whether on the streets of Barbados or the tracks of F1.

WC: 2,014

Warnings: none

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

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The first thing that hit me when I stepped off the plane was the heat. It wasn’t the thick, dry heat I was used to in the Caribbean, though—it was different. The kind that sticks to your skin, clings to your clothes, but somehow feels alive. The entire city seemed to hum with energy, as if the air itself knew what was coming. It was race week in Singapore, and the city was buzzing.

Everything was different here—the sharp, clean scent of the ocean breeze, the lights bouncing off the skyscrapers, and the buzz of excitement in the streets. This place was alive, electric, as if the city itself was waiting for something big to happen. It made me feel like I belonged here, even though I was just visiting.

I grabbed my bag and moved through Changi Airport, letting my eyes take in the sights. Everything was sleek, clean, and high-tech. Even the airport looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. I’d done well for myself back home, but this? This was next-level. But then, that’s what I’d signed up for. I wasn’t here just to watch the Grand Prix. I was here to be in the thick of it, right up close to the action.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, adjusting my curls—waist-length, dark brown, with blonde streaks that always caught the light just right. In this city, where the lights danced off every surface, I could feel them bouncing off me, too.

As I walked through the terminal, my phone buzzed. I glanced down at the message. “Your VIP pass is ready for pickup. Welcome to the F1 world.”

I grinned to myself. VIP access. For someone who grew up racing on the streets, this was surreal. The paddock, the garages, the cars—it was all within reach, closer than it had ever been. I’d been obsessed with racing my entire life. The roar of engines, the smell of burning rubber, the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I pushed my car to its limits. But this… this was Formula 1. The pinnacle of motorsport. The elite.

But who was I kidding? The second I heard the low, throaty growl of a supercar revving in the distance, my pulse quickened. I was a street racer. Fast cars and the thrill of the race were in my blood. Relaxing wasn’t really in my vocabulary.

I had heard about the F1 Grand Prix for years. It wasn’t the same as the streets of Bridgetown back home, but speed was speed. The opportunity to see Formula 1 up close, to be in the middle of all this? That was something I couldn’t pass up.

I hailed a cab, slipping into the backseat as I stared out at the city. The buildings stretched toward the sky, lit up by neon signs and glowing billboards. It felt like a different world. I’d been to big cities before, but there was something about Singapore, especially during Grand Prix week, that made everything feel larger than life. Like I was part of something bigger.

---

After a quick stop at the hotel, I headed straight to the track. My VIP pass dangled from my neck, granting me access to places most fans could only dream of. As I walked through the paddock, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. This wasn’t just about watching the race. I was getting a look behind the curtain, into the heart of F1.

The paddock was like a bustling little village of its own, full of high-end trailers, team members, and engineers moving between the garages. Celebrities, influencers, and big-money guests wandered around, but I wasn’t here for them. My eyes were locked on the cars, the mechanics, and the drivers who made all of this happen.

I made my way through the paddock, slipping past groups of fans as I found my way to the garages. That’s when I felt it—eyes on me. I glanced around casually, spotting a few drivers and mechanics. I wasn’t sure if they were curious about who I was or why I was there, but I couldn’t blame them. I wasn’t exactly your average F1 fan.

I approached the first garage, catching a glimpse of the pit crew bustling around one of the cars. The smell of petrol and hot rubber filled the air, familiar and intoxicating. It was like the streets back home, only amplified. As I stepped closer, I heard someone call out.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you with someone?” A team official approached, eyeing my VIP pass but still cautious.

I flashed him a smile, holding up my pass. “Just here for the tour. Figured I’d start by seeing the real action.”

He smiled, a little more relaxed now. “You picked the right spot. This is where the magic happens.”

I nodded, stepping a little closer to the car. The sleek design, the vibrant paint job—it was a work of art. But more than that, it was a machine built for speed, for perfection. I could almost feel the power radiating off it.

“You’re a fan of F1?” the official asked, clearly testing the waters to see if I was just another casual onlooker.

I gave him a sideways glance. “I’m a fan of racing. Whether it’s in the streets or on a professional track, speed is speed. You know what I mean?”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly not expecting that. “Ah street racing, huh? Well, you’re in for a treat here. This is the big leagues.”

I smiled again, a little wider this time. “I know.”

---

As I moved from garage to garage, it became clear I wasn’t just another fan. The mechanics I spoke to were surprised by how much I knew—about engines, tires, aerodynamics. I wasn’t just here to admire the shiny cars. I was here to understand them, to see how they compared to the ones I’d driven in Barbados.

“Have you ever worked on a car like this before?” one of the engineers asked as I leaned over to get a closer look at the engine of one of the Red Bull cars.

I shook my head, grinning. “Not exactly like this, but I’ve gotten my hands dirty a few times. Enough to know what makes them tick.”

The engineer laughed, clearly impressed. “Most people just see the glamour. But you… you get it.”

Before I could respond, someone else caught my attention—a driver standing near the garage, helmet in hand, watching me with curiosity. I recognized him instantly. Oscar Piastri, the rookie. He was young, but he had that same intensity I’d seen in all the best racers. The kind that said he didn’t care about fame or fortune—just speed.

He stepped closer, offering a casual smile. “You’re not like the usual VIPs around here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what are the usual VIPs like?”

Oscar chuckled, glancing at the car beside us. “They don’t usually know what an aero rake is, for starters.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, well, I’ve spent a lot of time around cars. Racing’s kind of my thing.”

“Street racing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, like he was piecing it all together.

I raised my eyebrow questioning him, his face turned pink as he scratched the back of his neck, “Might’ve caught some of your conversation with the official earlier.”

I nodded, feeling a little more at ease. “It’s not as different from this as people think. The stakes are high, and the cars have to be perfect. The only real difference is the setting.”

Oscar looked genuinely intrigued. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it’s like racing with no rules. No track limits, no officials telling you what you can and can’t do.”

I shrugged. “It’s freeing, but it’s dangerous. You learn real fast that one wrong move can end it all. But that’s the thrill, right?”

Oscar nodded thoughtfully, a spark of understanding in his eyes. “I get that. I mean, we have rules, but at the end of the day, it’s still about pushing the limits. Every race is a risk.”

We stood there for a moment, both of us understanding the unspoken bond between racers. It didn’t matter if it was on the streets of Barbados or the tracks of Singapore—racing was racing. The rush, the danger, the need to go faster than anyone else—it was all the same.

Oscar glanced over at his car. “You ever driven one of these?”

I shook my head, letting my eyes linger on the sleek machine in front of me. “Not yet.”

He smiled, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Well, maybe we can fix that before you leave.”

He stepped a little closer, his curiosity clearly piqued. “You got a favourite driver, then? Or are you more of a keep-them-guessing type?”

I met his gaze, holding it steady. “I don’t really pick favourites. I’m more interested in how people handle themselves when the pressure’s on.”

He smiled, clearly amused. “Fair enough. Guess that’s what we’re all here for, right?”

Before I could respond, one of the team members called his name, and Oscar gave me a quick nod before heading off. “See you around,” he said over his shoulder.

“Maybe,” I replied, watching him disappear into the garage.

---

As the day wore on, I toured more garages, talked to more people. Every step deeper into the paddock felt like peeling back layers of this world. I learned more about the cars, the drivers, the teams—and I could tell that they were starting to learn more about me, too. Word spread fast in a place like this, and by the time I made my way to the Ferrari garage, I was starting to get a few curious glances.

It was getting later in the afternoon, but the adrenaline from being in this space kept me going. I wandered over to the last garage of the day, watching as the crew finished up work on Charles Leclerc’s car. The Ferrari was a beauty—sleek, red, and built for speed. I leaned against the wall, watching the pit crew work with precision.

As I stood there, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see another familiar face—Carlos Sainz. His easygoing smile put me at ease instantly. “You’ve been making the rounds,” he said, glancing at my VIP pass. “Not bad for a first-timer.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I like to get a full picture of what I’m dealing with.”

Carlos chuckled. “You talk like a racer.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s because I am one.”

He looked surprised for a split second before his grin widened. “Which kind?”

I could feel my lips turn up into a smirk, “What kind of racing do you think I do Mr. Sainz?”

His eyes narrowed as his eyes inspected almost every inch of my being, “I don’t take you for the NASCAR type or rally cars. Maybe something more dangerous and less professional?”

I nodded. “Back home in Barbados. It’s a different kind of track, but the thrill’s the same.”

Carlos crossed his arms, clearly interested. “And what do you think of all this? F1 compared to the streets?”

I glanced over at the Ferrari behind him. “It’s impressive. The precision, the power. But it’s still a machine. At the end of the day, it’s all about the driver.”

Carlos laughed, clearly enjoying my answer. “You should come by again tomorrow. I think the other drivers would love to hear more of your perspective.”

“Maybe I will,” I said with a grin, pushing off the wall. “Thanks for the invite.”

---

As I left the paddock, the neon lights of Singapore flickered above me, casting a glow over everything. The city was alive, and I could feel its pulse in sync with mine. The excitement of the race, the allure of the cars, the connection I felt with the drivers—it was all building.

Taglist: @omgsuperstarg

[lokissweater]

About that anon that brought up Hana:

Reader should lock him up fr and ride the life out of him (omg is this a safe space?). She finally gets top out of jealousy and possessiveness 😭😭. Win win situation actually. Bet Megumi would like that. If he was a lil crazy he would just make reader jealous more often on purpose but he doesn't like it when reader gets upset. Like, he's all for reader.

Okay I got carried away. Just me thinking thoughts almost making up the whole story in my head so I needed to share them. Writer things I guess. It's wild that this is the first thing I send you LMAOO. Never getting out of anon if I write back. But I liked your mlb Megumi series!!! Especially the angsty parts (I know I'm terrible 💀). 🩵 Keep writing, girl!

BAAAAABBEEEE THE WAY YOU ARE THINKING EXAAACTLYYY WHAT I AM THINKINGGG !!! i absolutely love you for this im gonna send you my first born child via mail because this is exactly what is gonna happen in the next mlb!megumi fics it literally ties into my drafts my LORD!!! what timing.

reader would be gnawing at the iron bars of her enclosure ANGRILY and take it all out in the best way she knows how by absolutely manhandling megumi during freaky toppy time and he’s ALLL OVER ITTT

megumi is also sososo possessive over her and all over her so the roles reversed for a change is like he is at the gates of heaven MAN !!! and you are also right i already know he would push readers buttons a little bit but not too much !! just to see what happens ;))

BUT THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH FOR THIS ANGEL !!! I HOPE TO GAAWWDDD i see you in my inbox again and i also thrive off of angst heheh MWAAAHHH <333

[go-see-a-starwar]

Hayden Christensen - AWAKE outtake [x]

[mayasaura]

The way The Locked Tomb uses cannibalism is so interesting, because while it does serve as a metaphor for intimacy, the series only uses it that way when it's cannibalism of the soul. Cannibalism of the flesh is either extremely limited, or straight up horrific.

Like step six of the Eightfold Word. It's literally presented as "consume the flesh," but Ianthe goes out of her way to specify that a single drop of blood is sufficient. The most unhinged act of intimacy in the series, and it's explictly the soul and only the soul being digested.

Human flesh is only consumed in any volume twice: John's post-apocalyptic survival cannibalism, and Harrow's delicious murder soup. Both those scenes are exactly the opposite of intimate, and about as far from erotic as you can get.

John and Alecto gorging themselves on anonymous strangers was debasing to everyone involved, and not something John ever wanted to be reminded of. Harrow's soup was a desperate attempt at self-defense, like an animal in a trap gnawing through her own leg. It horrified and disgusted everyone at the table, even Ianthe, the number one suspect at making it weird.

I love the overall effect of the layered symbolism, because it allows cannibalism to be explored both ways. Seperately, without one connotation implicating the other. Except for Babs, of course, who gets to be both.

[nyxronomicon]

ugh please someone restrain me I'm thinking about yandere stepcest with Sunday...