The Only Reason _ Part 2

The Only Reason _ Part 2

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader - Mana Chaos AU]

*Note: I got a name for the AU!! Mana Chaos!! A bit random, but I just went with it. Here’s part 2 since the part one blew up.

Part 1 — Part 2 (here)

“Have a safe trip, Personnel 002.”

“Be safe, please.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Don’t let your guard down.”

As you expected everyone was treating you like you were the one going into a war zone and not the S-Rank Hunter that was doing the country a favour. You internally sighed while you maintained an expressionless face to all those around you bidding farewell or wishing you luck and safety. 

Honestly speaking, you were the safest person in the building, if not, in the world with the amount of Shadow soldiers Jinwoo has put into your shadow for your protection. Just the other day, you were furiously protected by none other than Beru, one of Jinwoo’s strongest general grade or was it higher? You can’t recall and Jinwoo did explain to you once, but your system overloaded and didn’t catch much.

Concerning how those soldiers came to be, it was simple. To raise them from the dead. With every battle, Jinwoo grows stronger and stronger, hence why you privately dubbed him a National Level Hunter. His army of Shadows could practically cover the entire country two or three times, maybe even more. Even give Thomas a run for his money, if they ever meet each other in a battle. It would be distaterous so you rather not come to it.

This is why you didn’t want Jinwoo in the facility at all. He has perfect control over his emotions and high morals if you don’t cross his line. He was overall peaceful even with his vast strength and power. Unlike Thomas, he was tamed and very very well-behaved, to put it simply. You had tried to get your seniors or higher-ups and colleague to understand, but they all brushed it aside, saying an S-Rank belongs here and under surveillance. 

Once, they agreed to observe Jinwoo’s tamed nature, to stop your insistence. However, it turned out horribly. You watched from the surveillance room when your unconvinced party enter Jinwoo’s cell. It all appeared normal until the straitjacket was removed from him and he started lashing out. The guards immediately tried to subdue him and rescue the innocent group from the clushes of the raging Hunter.

A chill ran down your spine as you froze up while the room darkened, an echoy whispered in your ear, “I heard you wanted to kick me out. So cold of you, really. I would have behaved if you had a work-life balance, but you are always in this insufferable building, so I have to decline.”

“You could have just told me…” You voice only came out as a mere mutter, but Jinwoo heard it loud and clear. Whatever controlled and peaceful image you have of Jinwoo gone to the drains, never to be recovered in that moment. Like anyone else, you were afraid. Not for yourself, but for those around you.

A dark chuckle rang and you felt like you were in his shadowy embrace with a weight lunched over from the back of your head down to your spine. “That was an option, but I wanted to show you my opposition to your idea. This was the best way I’ve come up with. Plus, it shows everyone here that you aren’t replaceable.” The weight was gone and the room returned to normal with his words beckoning you to him, “So come and calm me down, Personnel 002.”

Looking out the transport vehicle, you saw the streets practically empty apart from the guards stationed from place to place. You grimaced at the fearful citizens that no doubt went indoors or hid in their homes at the news. 

Whenever an S-Rank is let out of their cell into the streets, be it for fresh air or raiding an impossible dungeon for the country, the public would get news of it and warn the citizens to stay away from the gate and advised to remain indoors while the mentioned locations or roads would be purposefully used to transport the Hunter directly to the site. 

Bringing an S-Rank to an A-Rank gate or higher alone was practically giving them a death sentence. It was the government and people’s way of telling the strong Hunters to control themselves or they would die hourably in the raid while protecting their country. 

A case of such an instance was the Jeju Island Raid. An S-Rank dungeon that have failed for 4 times before an alliance was formed between the Japanese S-Rank and Korean S-Rank. The Japanese Government sent their strongest to offer support, but mostly to get rid of them because they have grown too powerful and influential. With the <Outrage Incident>, they couldn’t afford to take any chances. 

That raid had the most S-Rank Hunters in the same place, fighting the same battle. Originally, Jinwoo wasn’t present and you were with him in his cell doing paperwork while he watched the news. As sudden as it came, Jinwoo demanded to go there to help his fellow S-Rank Hunters from total annihilation. 

When you saw the murderous ant, you knew Jinwoo wanted to add him into his army. You did wonder if the people above would want help, since it was a sure-fire way to rid the S-Rank Hunters but when again without the S-Rank, who would clear the harder gates? This stupid EMI system and all the cautiousness of frightened people. 

In the end, Jinwoo’s wish was granted and you were also sent to the front lines in case Jinwoo went haywire. As drugs and medicine was proven ineffective to Jinwoo, the next best thing was you, since he held you in high regard. Not only did Jinwoo get his new soldier, who was later placed as your bodyguard, but he also somehow managed to control the other surviving S-Rank Hunters. 

What happened after was Jinwoo showing his dominance over the other S-Ranks in Korea and making himself at the top of the food chain. He’s stay mild and controlled because he wanted to. Not because you people —the public and the government— could control him. 

The vehicle stopped and your door was opened from the outside, a guard nodded and welcomed you while you got out. Your eyes looked over to the gigantic gate. 

“Feels like a date, doesn’t it?” Jinwoo’s voice brought your attention to him. Dressed in a causal manner, a shirt and pants, plus a long coat to complete his look, his stuck to his dark theme. You were quite used to him in a straitjacket that everytime he was dressed normally, you were always spellbound. He chuckled and ruffled your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re looking good.” You looked away to the side, a faint blush over your cheeks. There was no use fangirling in secret when Beru or some other soldiers would report back to him and he’d have a field day the next time you visit him. You might as well be honest and tell him now to get over it.

Now it was Jinwoo’s turn to freeze up and chuckle. “Thanks.”

Amidst the careful atmosphere, you sense the guards around you two on edge with Jinwoo’s freedom to do anything and his power unrestraint. Better enter the gate before they act out of fear and trigger some ridiculous conflict. “Let’s go, do you need any gear?”

“I only need you by my side.” Jinwoo returned back to his smooth and cheeky self, smiling down at you with a soft look in his eyes. 

You physically and mentally controlled yourself so that you don’t faint from his words, reminding yourself repeatedly that you two were in public. It was hard for you to defend yourself against these attacks of his when he wasn’t in his usual dull look in the EMI. He is one handsome man. “Just say we can go…”

Jinwoo extended his hand to you and waited for you to put your hand in his, essentially you’d be putting your life in his hands because once you pass through the gate, he was your only lifeline to return in one piece. You did so without hesitation, Jinwoo will never allow harm to you and never let you out of his sight so long as he lives. You could feel the nervous and anxious glances from the guards scattered around the site from your nonchalant actions.

With a hum, Jinwoo gripped your hand in his and lead you into the gate where only he and you would be without any other humans. Truly as he said, it’d be a date where he and you could be your true selves.

“Come forth.” Jinwoo summoned his army who all appeared at his command, all kneeled and bowed their heads to him. “Like usual.” His eyes glowed a purple hue, “Leave the boss to me.”

So began the massacre while Jinwoo walked you through it all. The first time it happened, you were beyond terrified for you only knew Jinwoo was a capable S-Rank and shouldn’t be underestimated. That was the first time you’ve seen his army’s might and power. Compared to him, you and all the others in the EMI were ants, mere insects. 

How you managed to capture Jinwoo’s eyes was beyond you, but you were a lucky person to be favoured by him, to some extent. Soon, you didn’t mind Jinwoo’s little favouritism and childish acts to get you into his cell. You looked forward to it. He accepted you for who you are and given you a place, a special irreplaceable place in the world and in his heart. 

For all he has done for you, you wanted to return something for him. You even asked the soldiers in your shadow to keep it a secret from him so it was a grand surprise for him. The Jeju Island Raid that he singlehandedly cleared, you brought the island under his name with your wealth. With the help of the Shadows, you made the island habitable once more and invited some special people to live on it. 

Your hand squeezed his as you looked up to him, he momentarily took his eyes off the battlefield and stared into your eyes. “Yes?”

A rare smile spread on your face, your inner self becoming giddy and expectant of Jinwoo’s reaction. “Do you want to see your family? I’ve offered them a place to live away from all the criticism and pressure from the government and public. They’ve also been wanting to see you too, face to face.”

Jinwoo’s eyes widened. The moment he was reevaluated, he was sent to the EMI building in Korea, he was treated like an object rather than a human being. He could have lashed out, but his family was on the line and while he could use his Shadows to protect him so he has freedom, that only puts a target on his back. By then, people would want him dead for sure. 

The only solance he found in his darkness was you. The you who found out his secret and kept it to yourself, even wanting to give him back his freedom for your security, but he wanted to stay by your side instead. He thought that’s all he needed, but one day, you connected him with his family while in his cell and let him have his moment with them. 

From time to time, you’d call his family and have a video call to let him and his beloved mother and sister chat together while you work in the corner with music playing in your headphones connected to your other device to give him privacy. A luxury he never could have with the protocols of EMI.

He was grateful for all you’ve done for him. Genuinely and absolutely. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

Note: I seriously did NOT think there would be another part. You guys liked part 1 a lot and I have no idea why. Welp, here's part 2. Not sure about a part 3, but I'll see how this one goes. Enjoy~!

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (these are the people from Part 1's comment section)

@stupendouspizzacomputer @xiannars

TOUCH MASTERPOST - MAFIA! BTS OT7 X EXPERIMENTED HUMAN F! READER

if you wish to be part of the tag list for this story, complete the form.

summary: 007 (you), a girl who grew up in an experimental facility with no knowledge of the outside world, unexpectedly escapes, encountering seven of the country’s most malicious and notorious men. How will both sides of their lives change?

"Thank you all for accepting me as your family…" You give a bittersweet smile. "I don't want you to hurt anymore."

"No- Don't please…" His voice is barely above a whisper.

You softly touch him, as you usually do when they're hurt. But this time, it wasn't the usual touches that they could return to; it was one that will fade away forever, and there was nothing they could do about it.

pairings: mafia bts ot7 x experimented human female reader

genre: mafia au | moderate? angst | romance | sci-fi | action | fluff

warnings: mentions of violence, guns, blood, minor and major injuries, mental/physical torture, killing, kidnapping, (and maybe) suggestive mature themes.

intro + characters

one - wc: 6K+

summary: you have finally escaped the filthy jail you were made to grow up in as a guinea pig. on your way out, you bump into two members of south korea’s most infamous mafia gang. stunned by the rather intriguing encounter with you, the younger one decides to bring you back to their home base in secret, only to have their plan foiled when the rest of the gang catches them red handed and the entire group unanimously decides what to do with the strange girl, which is you.

two - wc: 8K

summary: yoongi gets stuck in an awkward situation. and the next day, the gang is confronted with startling evidence that makes them rethink all they've known about their world over the last two decades and drives them to set out to investigate the truth.

three - wc: 12K+

summary: jin, with the assistance of 007 (you), performs a quick operation on the maknae as a result of his injury. jungkook tries to thank you, while jin spends some time learning more about you better. yoongi gets frustrated with his members and takes it out on you.

four - wc: 7k+

summary: in daegu, bangtan convene at a secure location to strategize their mission of infiltrating a rival gang's club. with their plans set in motion, they embark on the operation, leading to a highly charged negotiation that quickly turns into a violent clash, demonstrating their deadly abilities. yoongi, employing ruthless tactics, extracts crucial information from the leader of the opposing gang. the shocking revelation uncovers a government weapons initiative, leaving the Bangtan members astonished and motivated to intervene.

Episode 1117 screenshot redraw :) playing around with some new brushes!

The original!

Here’s also an extra doodle of sabo from the Apple Store while my friend was buying a new laptop lmao. Yes I know they have procreate on the Apple Store iPads, no I will not stop making these in goodnotes. ALSO WHEN WAS SOMEONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT GOODNOTES ADDED AN EYEDROPPER TOOL WHAT

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 

They lied. 

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

TOUCH - MAFIA! BTS OT7 X EXPERIMENTED HUMAN F! READER [ FOUR ]

if you wish to be part of the tag list, please complete this form.

summary: in daegu, bangtan convene at a secure location to strategize their mission of infiltrating a rival gang's club. with their plans set in motion, they embark on the operation, leading to a highly charged negotiation that quickly turns into a violent clash, demonstrating their deadly abilities. yoongi, employing ruthless tactics, extracts crucial information from the leader of the opposing gang. the shocking revelation uncovers a government weapons initiative, leaving the Bangtan members astonished and motivated to intervene. genre: mafia au | moderate? angst | romance | sci-fi | action | fluff

warnings: bullying, interrogation, guns, violence, slight mentions of blood… (also not proofread! sorry 😭)

pairings: mafia! bts ot7 x experimented human female! reader

word count: 7,884 (sincerely apologize it's not any longer than the previous ones)

tag list: @juju-227592, @drunkzseok, @yourgirlcin, @babybunli, @xanny91, @bibetsa, @borahae-reads, @lalavione1309, @luvsbngtn, @tetehearts, @singukieee, @serendididy, @quixoticbittersweet, @iriaachan, @jksisbunntboy, @missseoulite, @xjiminsthighsx, @just-vaaalll, @chim-possible, @passionandsuga, @deadrose287, @kalala22, @bangtanxberm, @scuzmunkie, @sunoosult, @germ2001, @lovelgirl22, @thvkives, @linlinlily, @getinthetardissammy-sh, @prakriti-j, @paramedicnerd004, @cuteipat, @iamkookiesforyou, @queen-in-the-shadows, @shadowyjellyfishfest, @fakedanger, @reallysparklychaos, @ghostlyworld, @whipwhoops (the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)

permanent tag list: @taolucha, @exfolitae, @namjoonswaifu, @rinkud, @vinyl-music0sleep, @queenlouie18, @sophiaj650, @m0v3m3ntsblog, @nicholedobre-blog, @bjoriis, @multifandom301, @princess-sunshyn, @han-aaaaa, @ejspencer14, @dango-07, @catthecreator, @skyys-universe, @thvslvt, @dustyinkpages, @tinymesblog, @savagemickey03

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masterpost | three | four | five

You're dumbfounded in the face of the so-called artificial intelligence in front of you.

"Subject 007, your eyes are glowing; you have no need to fear me. I am at your disposal and command." Genesis tells you.

You blink, your gaze fixed on her. "Where… y-you from?"

"I'm a pocket-sized device constructed into a necklace. The necklace you're wearing around your neck right now." She answers.

You looked down at your necklace, that sat on top of your chest, and saw the purple led light emitting from the pendant, which displayed the three-dimensional woman you were chatting to. "M-mister created you?"

"That's correct" She affirms.

"W-why?"

"I was specifically made to be your companion by Doctor Hyon Kwan. He was concerned that exposing you to this unfamiliar environment may generate feelings of anxiety, loneliness, and helplessness." She explained electromechanically.

"W-what is an-nxiety… and-d o-other things?" You asked.

"Anxiety, noun—a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome. Loneliness, noun—sadness because one has no friends or company. Helplessness, noun—inability to defend oneself or to act effectively." She responds.

"In simpler terms, it would be a bad sad feeling for you."

"O-oh…" You paused before Genesis speaks again. "Subject 007, is there a reason you activated me? How may I be of assistance?"

"H-he locked-d me." You say.

"Yes, it appears you are in a supply closet." She responds. "Would you like me to conduct a room scan for an item that could assist you get out of here?"

You nod, disliking being in the dark of the confined space. "Understood, initiating the room scan…"

Genesis then generates another beam of led light, which quickly sweeps over the room. "Room scan complete. I've discovered a light switch on your left side about a meter away."

The artificial intelligence casts a purple light on the light switch, illuminating it. "Flick it upwards and you will be given light."

"O-okay." You whisper before, moving towards the light switch and following her instructions, resulting in the tiny room lighting up from the single light bulb above.

Your gaze now wanders across the room, taking in all of the cleaning items on the shelves. He had you trapped in the janitor's closet. Of course, you were oblivious of this.

"H-how do I-I get out?" You wondered.

"I also saw a lock from the outside, so you won't be able to leave from here. However, based on my calculations and human experience, if you draw attention in here, somebody might discover you and unlock the door for you to leave." She replies.

"W-what do I do?"

"Make noise, perhaps bang your fists on the door, and then wait." She answers.

You nod before heading to the door and banging your hands against the locked door. After a few strikes, you stopped and waited as Genesis advised.

A few seconds later, there is a faint sound of shuffling outside. Genesis glances at you. "Subject 007, my sensors detect the presence of another human behind the door."

"I must go before they find you." She stated.

"W-why?" You curiously tilt your head.

"Doctor Hyon Kwan ordered me to make myself visible solely to you when you call."

"H-how… do I call y-you?"

"Press on the pendant twice, just as you did before." She responds.

Then you heard a loud click from the door, indicating that someone was unlocking it and was about to enter. You then refocus your attention to Genesis, who is already staring at you. "I have to leave now, 007; I'm pleased I could assist; see you later."

"O-okay…" Your lips curled slightly upward.

When the door finally opens, you're greeted by a middle-aged man clutching a mop in one hand and keys in the other. He stares at you in confusion as the two of you stood unmoving parallel to one another. "…H-Hi…"

He clears his throat. "What are you doing in there, kid? This is the janitor's closet."

"Someone said-d i-it is cool p-place…" You try to explain.

He looks to be disappointed as he sighs. "Those brats tricked you, kid."

"Tricked…?" Your face scrunches in bewilderment.

"Yeah… They, uh, lied to you about it." He said. "Come on, get out of there, you'll be late for your first class."

The friendly middle-aged man guides you out of the tiny square room, and when you show him your class schedule, he goes with you to your assigned classroom.

You walked into the room just as the teacher was beginning her introduction to the students. As you entered, numerous sets of eyes were fixed on you. The female teacher was mid-sentence when you grabbed her attention with your presence. "Hello, you must be the new student this year—or rather, this rest of the year…"

You remained mute, unsure what to do, provoking the woman in business casual attire to cough. "What's your name, new student?"

"I'm 0…" You hesitated, recalling two of the seven men's words. No, that’s a number… A number makes you a subject, not a person.

Y/N, it’s simple, and it matches her-

"Y-Y/N." You make meek eye contact with the lady.

"Y/N, okay, why don't you introduce yourself to the class." She flashes you a little grin and motions for you to move to the front of the class.

You turn to face the students in the room, who are already staring at you. You lift your hand gingerly, waving to them.

"Tell us where you're from, and something you like to do." The teacher asks you.

"I-I don't k-know…" You react. It is true, though, that you lack the vocabulary necessary to adequately describe your past or even your interests. You haven't been out of that institution long enough to know or understand your dislikes and preferences for the world you've entered.

The classroom erupts in giggles and murmurs, and you can inadvertantly feel emotion waves of what you can only describe as a feeling that isn't necessarily bad, but you realize you didn't like it because it was the same feeling you would sense from all the workers in white long lab coats back at the facility, usually when you haven't done a good job.

It seemed like they were judging you or telling you that you didn't belong.

The teacher then hushes the class and meets your gaze, a sympathetic expression on her face. "That's all right. Go on and take your seat at one of the empty desks over there."

You felt someone nudge your shoulder as soon as you sat down at your allotted desk, per the teacher's instructions.

You perked a bit in your seat and peered around, an innocent interested expression on your face. You tilted your head when you saw a girl your age with huge Bambi-like eyes that reminded you of Jungkook, only hers were slightly slanted.

She squinted and looked you up and down. "I thought the distance was the issue, but it's just that you're ugly."

She snorts. "What is a girl like you doing with Bangtan?"

Your brows furrow in perplexity. "Bangtan? What's 'Bangtan'?"

The girl scoffs and blinks in disbelief. "Are you serious right now? "Are you just acting dumb or were you born dumb?"

She chuckles after her insulting remark. "They're only the most powerful and hottest guys in the nation, to be exact—"

"People who should not be associated with people like you." She looks at you with her eyes narrowed in disdain. "Stay away from them, do you hear me?"

"But—" You murmured carefully before being cut off by the teacher.

"Y/N-ssi, Yuri-ssi, do you have anything you'd like to share with the class?" Or should I go on?" Hands resting on her hips, the teacher asks in a scolding manner.

In stark contrast to the look she gave you, the girl, now known as Yuri, wears a false joyful grin on her face. "No, you may continue. Apologies."

School, as they termed it, is a terrifying experience for you throughout the day. It was evident that the other kids either thought you were odd and avoided you or were appalled by you for some reason and participated in making you feel unhappy for your presence.

You never understood why, though, because Jimin had said that you'd meet kids like you. When Jimin mentioned that to you, it felt like an appealing feeling, but now that you're in an educational environment among kids your age, it seems completely different. And it doesn't help that you have superhuman empathy to sense how they felt towards you.

When it was time for lunch, you followed earlier directions from the working adults on campus on how to get your lunch and where to sit. You were informed that you are free to move about campus and choose a spot to have your lunch.

Upon retrieving your meal, the other students' looks and murmurs began to overwhelm you, and due to your empathy abilities, you were feeling overstimulated as well. Therefore, you found yourself in an isolated area of campus away from the countless students in the cafeteria, unaware of the three strangers who were surreptitiously following you.

You pushed up against a nearby tree and slid down into a sitting posture, holding your lunch plate. You stared at the meal as you set the platter in front of you. The various components and side dishes quickly brought to remember Jin's cooking. You wondered if it tastes the same.

You then saw the utensils on the side of your lunch plate. Despite the fact that you'd been under Bangtan's roof for a few weeks, with Yoongi delivering your meals and "teaching" you how to use the utensils, you were still trying to get the hang of it. Since then, and even today, it's been a process of trial and error.

But once you start thinking about it, his words ring in your thoughts. "Weeks have passed, and you still can't manage something as basic as a spoon or chopsticks?"

"You've spent enough time watching to understand how to use it."

While still staring down at your meal, chopsticks, and spoon, you scrunch your face into a little pout of determination. Though you can't use it quite properly, you did learn that the spoon was easier for you. So you grabbed the metal spoon first, scooped the rice, and then used your hand to pick up the other part of the meal.

You took a second to process your first mouthful, and you came to the conclusion—Jin's food is better, you thought.

You were about to take your next bite of food when—swipe.

The three strangers who had trailed you earlier took your lunch tray from you with mocking smiles as they peered down at your crouched figure.

They giggled when they saw your stunned anxious, and perplexed eyes gazing up at them. "Aww, look at her, she looks like a little puppy, begging for scraps."

The girl with slanted bambi eyes gave you a cynical look as she bent down to your level. "She does look like one—Don't you?"

You stayed silent, uncertain how to reply to her. And you had a feeling that answering would just make matters worse. You learned that lesson the hard way, and despite being out of the facility, you remember not to make the same mistake twice. The trauma has been imprinted on you, and thanks to your superhuman empathy, you realize the emotions they're eliciting are negative. It scares you.

When she hears nothing from you, she scowls. And pokes your head angrily. "Ya, I'm talking to you."

"What are you? Deaf or mute?" She quips cynically.

Your pupils tremble when you make eye contact with her. "Um…I—"

The girl quickly grew agitated, releasing out a displeased sigh as she finally stood up. "Perhaps I should give you something to make you talk, huh—"

She chuckles and casts a sidelong glance at her two companions. "What do you guys think?"

"I very much think you should." They laugh along with her.

"And I believe I have the perfect solution, Yuri-ah." The girl handling your lunch tray makes a remark.

Yuri-ah grins slyly as she eyes your lunch plate in her friend's hands. "I like the way you're thinking."

She looks back at you with the same resentful gaze. "I seriously wonder why someone like you is here."

You kept your eyes aimed at the ground, too terrified to meet their gazes, but before you knew it, food bits and liquid were dropping from above you and onto your head, ruining your clothes.

Yuri and her two friends laughed at your misery, knowing you couldn't do anything about it. And they were right; you had no friends here and no one to back up you. You have no identity here, and they've taken great satisfaction and joy in making that abundantly clear to you.

Yuri grabbed the milk box and flung it squarely at your face, making you wince audibly, which only made her smile wider. "There, enjoy your scraps now, puppy—or, I believe the correct term is, bitch."

Her friends laughed and gave her a sick celebratory pat on the shoulder. But they were too focused on your torment to even notice a tall figure rapidly approaching you guys, after witnessing the entire exchange. "Ya!"

They all jumped at the booming shout, as did you, but your head was still lowered, not willing to risk raising your head any further. Yuri and the other girls looked in the direction of the voice, recognizing Haejoon. The most popular boy in school due to his outstanding athletic abilities and intelligence, not to mention he possessed a magnetic presence that drew people towards him effortlessly—every woman desired to be with him, and every man desired to be him. Despite his popularity, however, Haejoon had never formed any deep connections or friendships. He was always surrounded by acquaintances but remained a solitary soul, considering that he rarely interacts with other students.

Once he's within a reasonable distance of all four of you, he stares briefly at you (unbeknownst to you), then at Yuri and her party. He instantly frowned upon your condition. "Ya, are you crazy?!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He scolds them sternly.

"Haejoon oppa—" Yuri attempts to reconcile.

His fierce look, however, quickly silences her and forces the two to look elsewhere awkwardly. "What has she ever done to you?!"

"You don't u-understand- it's not what it looks like!" She whines high-pitched.

"Don't give me that nonsense--I've been watching you guys from afar since the beginning." He proceeds to pull something from his blazer pocket that seems to be a folded cloth. "And the only reason I came up to you now is because I was hoping at least one of you was mature enough to stop."

"But I guess I was wrong." He says glumly.

The girls kept quiet until Yuri opened her mouth tentatively. "But… Haejoon-oppa—"

"Shut up." He seethed. "Go, before something happens that you will all regret."

Their eyes widened and they raced away, frightened that Haejoon's statement might come true if they stayed a moment longer. He sighs and turns to you when he no longer sees their presence. He lowers himself to your level and looks at you sympathetically.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

Despite his ask, you persist in refusing to look up at him, but you timidly nod in response. His frown grows, sorrowful for you. "Here, let's get you cleaned up."

"I promise I won't hurt you." He says gently.

Your ears pricked up slightly when you heard those words finding immediate comfort in them. "Promise?" You reiterate, your head still unmoving.

He nods with a faint smile that you can't see. "I promise."

That's when you finally glance up at him, your eyes blurry. His expression softens at the sight of your face. "What's your name?"

"Y-Y/N." You answered quietly.

He smiles. "Y/N… What a pretty name."

"Pretty?" Your head tilted at the unfamiliar term.

He chuckles quietly. "Yeah, pretty."

"What does that mean?" You questioned innocently.

"O-oh, there are actually two meanings for it. The first is when you're referring to something or someone. And it typically refers to when something or someone is pleasing to the eye. The second is when you hear something that you enjoyed hearing. Like for me, I love the sound of your name, therefore I find it pretty."

You give a tiny smile. "O-oh, um, t-thank you."

"Of course. Let's get you inside and cleaned up." He carefully offered his hand, not wanting to startle you. You accepted his hand cautiously and he gently pulled you up with him.

Haejoon then walks you to the unisex restroom and begins dampening the white cloth in his hands under flowing water before going to work, with a welcoming smile urging you to trust him. He delicately wiped away the food and milk from your face with the smooth cloth, revealing the soft, delicate complexion beneath.

As he proceeded to clean you, he noticed how quiet you were. It occurred to him that you might not have had much exposure to words or social interactions. So he chose to talk thoughtfully and interact with you throughout the time using basic words and gestures.

Once your face was clean, he moved on to your clothes. The milk and food had leaked through the cloth, producing a foul odor. He unfastened his blazer and gently draped it over your shoulders. It was a little too big for your petite frame, but it was comfortable and warm.

Haejoon then remembered the buttoned shirt hanging in his locker nearby. He instantly went to get it and brought it back to you, offering it to you. You tentatively but gladly took it, your eyes conveying more emotion than your limited speech allowed.

Your appearance improved considerably once you put on the jacket and dress shirt. Haejoon smiled again, pleased with his attempts of helping you.

"Take your time in here. If you need any more help, I'll be waiting outside," He added, motioning to the door, and you nodded in understanding.

You emerged from the restroom a few minutes later looking much cleaner and more collected. You approached him slowly, dressed in his jacket and dress shirt.

When the bell sounded, signifying the end of lunch break, Haejoon took your hand in his and guided you through the crowded corridors. He led you around the corner and leaned towards you. "Hey, could you please give me your schedule paper, it looks like this?"

Your eyes focused on a piece of paper in his hands, emblazoned in black ink. You suddenly remembered that the boys had briefly stated that it was your daily schedule when they had brought you here earlier. You then dug into your book bag, which Jin had told you to carry, and took out the slightly crumpled piece of paper, which you handed to Haejoon.

He kindly takes it from you and reads it over. When he's finished reading it, a little smile breaks out. "You have me until the very last class."

He returns the paper to you, and you place it back in your bag. You gazed at him with a puzzled expression. He chuckles slightly. "That means I'll be with you for the rest of the day."

"O-oh."

"Hmm, so come with me. I'll lead you there." He says this as he tenderly re-grabs your hand.

As the afternoon progressed, the two of you moved on to the day's final lesson. When the teacher began rambling on about history, a student named Minjae couldn't resist making a snarky remark. "What's up with the charity case, Haejoon?" Got tired of hanging out with the popular crowd?"

Haejoon's eyes narrowed, but he suppressed his outburst. Instead, he mirrored Minjae's stare with a sly smile. "Well, Minjae, I suppose you wouldn't understand what it's like to care about someone other than yourself. Or is it, you will never know what it's like to be cared for?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "The latter one could have fooled me."

The class bursts into snickers, and Minjae's cheeks flushed. Haejoon's remarks had struck a chord. But, while his response amused the class, Haejoon's attention swiftly returned to you, who sat opposite him, eyes wide with interest.

You scarcely spoke as you pointed to a pencil on his desk. "What's that?"

Haejoon grinned, figuring your knowledge of the modern world is as poor, but he doesn't mind. "It's a pencil."

He kindly explained using simple words and motions. "You use it to write with. See?" He picked up the pencil and scribbled something on a sheet of paper.

You stared in awe, a faint smile on your lips. Haejoon's heart warmed at your new discovery.

Throughout the rest of the day, you might say Haejoon served as your real guide, explaining the purpose and function of many common things. When you inquired about anything new, his explanations became more lively, and he quickly adjusted his approach with you, using short sentences and simple vocabulary to help you understand. And he immediately became enthralled by your inquisitiveness and the amazement in your eyes.

As the school day came to an end, Haejoon turned to you, his voice full of sincerity. "Y/N, in our language, we have a word called 'chingu'. It means 'friend.' I want to be your chingu, someone you can trust and rely on."

Your brows raised in childlike surprise. "Chingu… friend?"

Haejoon nodded. "Yes, friend. I want to be your friend."

Your lips curved into a smile. "O-Okay."

When the school day is done, Haejoon escorts you out of class and outside the school entrance, exactly where you need to be to wait for Sun-woo.

Haejoon tapped your shoulder as you silently searched for the car the boys had described to you. "It was nice meeting you today."

"Let's continue this, Y/N-ah." Haejoon stated, his voice full of genuineness, as he extended his hands for a handshake.

You tilt your head in confusion as you glance down at his outstretched hand, then back up at him. He snorts at the innocuous gesture.

"This is called a handshake. It's a physical way of greeting friends." He shows you by guiding your hands through the motion.

You nod slowly as you try to make sense of the unfamiliar notion. He grins once more. "See you tomorrow Y/N-ah."

He starts walking away, waving at your dwindling form, as you wave back shyly.

You resumed looking for Sun-woo's car, unknowing that he had already arrived and had just exited the car to catch your attention.

He spots you immediately and beckons for you. "Y/N-ssi!"

Hearing your new name, your head whips in his way. Your face lights up when you see him. "Sunnie!"

As you approach him, he grins. "Good afternoon, Y/N-ssi."

"How was your first day of school?"

You hesitated for a moment to consider. "O…Okay…"

He nods, understanding that's all you can say to effectively express your emotions to the best of your ability. "Hm, that's good." And then takes your luggage, motioning you to get inside the car.

"S-sunnie…" You cast a reticent look up at him.

"Yes, Y/N-ssi."

"A-are you c-chin-gu?" You asked warily.

His brow arched in mild surprise; he hadn't expected such an abrupt question from you. "Oh? "May I ask as to why you are inquiring?"

You stopped again, uncertain of what to say, prompting Sun-woo to encourage you. "It's okay, Y/N-ssi, you can tell me anything."

"Um… A c-chin-gu… said is s-someone I trust… And t-they said you, I trust." You gulp. "You, c-chin-gu?"

Oh, you've made an acquaintance rather quickly, he thought. "Well, I could be your chingu, if you want."

"B-be chin-gu, please?" You give him a hopeful gaze.

And there's no way he could say no to it. You and he have only known each other for several weeks, just like the boys, but your innocent antics have won him over. You're only trying to understand a little bit about this big world you're in. Nonetheless, he nods. "Of course, I'll be your chingu, Y/N-ssi."

Meanwhile, in Daegu, the next day, after Bangtan arrived...

The seven men convened in an undetectable safehouse in an isolated locale outside the main town center of Daegu. The place appears abandoned, even creepy, which is why no one is likely to approach there, making it an ideal hideout for the gang.

They were all gathered around the table, their faces decorated with varying degrees of determination. Namjoon, the esteemed leader, leaned forward, his eyes calculating. He cleared his throat, commanding the group's attention.

"All right, everybody. We've entered unknown terrain here. This rival gang is up to something major, based on the scant tip we've been provided. The objective is simple: we need to gather information and figure out who is pulling the strings. What do we know about this club, Jin?"

Jin displays a blueprint map. "Not a lot, Namjoon. This place is infamous, but they've managed to keep it out of the spotlight until now. No digital trail, no connections. We're going in blindly, with limited resources."

Yoongi reclines in his chair, a wicked grin on his face. "Well, we're about to shed some light on their little operation, aren't we? How's the entry point looking?"

Jin points at the blueprint map. "We have a couple of options. The rear door is relatively unguarded, but the main entrance is where we'll locate the other gang's boss. Our best option is to split our forces and approach from both sides, creating a distraction to divert their focus away from us."

Hoseok grins arrogantly. "No problem, I can handle the distraction." I've been able to profile some of the guys during the day of the transport, and I know just the trick to keep them occupied. While you guys do your thing, I'll dance my way into their hearts."

Jimin rolled his eyes. "As charming as you are, hyung, I think they'll be more distracted by this."

Taehyung snorts. "Jimin's right. A show-stopper is what we need. That'll be enough to give Yoongi and Namjoon the opening they need."

Namjoon nods "Excellent. Jin-hyung, once we're inside, what's our next move?"

Jin: focuses on a particular spot on the blueprint. "Their secret meeting room is positioned on the upper floor of the club." That's where we'll find the leader. But we'll need a negotiating chip to convince them to cooperate. That's where Yoongi comes in."

The younger hums. "No problem, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve." I'll extract the information we need from another of their low-ranking members. Once we have that, we'll offer it to their leader as a gesture of goodwill."

"And if they refuse to cooperate?" Jungkook leans forward, his eyes resolute.

"We have a backup plan. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook, you'll be the muscle. They'll regret running into us, we'll make sure of it. But only if we don't have any other options." The leader responded sharply.

For a brief time, the room became silent as the seriousness of their backup plan became apparent. Each member was aware of the potential ramifications and the depths to which they would plunge if their first plan failed.

"Our second plan is our last option, a show of force they will never forget. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook, your abilities will be tested. But keep in mind that we only use violence when absolutely necessary." His tone was calculating and cold.

The master seducer nods, his gaze steadfast. "Understood, boss. We'll use our skills wisely."

With determination in his eyes, Taehyung leans forward as well. "We won't let it come to that if we can help it. Our aim is to learn more about them and how they operate, not to cause needless carnage."

"We'll be strategic and patient. Violence is a last choice, but if they force our hand, they'll later rue it." The voice of Jungkook was composed but firm.

"Good. We can't afford any mistakes. And once we have their attention, it's time to play our cards. What do we have to offer?" He says it rhetorically.

"Money. It's always a powerful motivator. We have a substantial sum of money that we can give as a show of cooperation. It'll pique their interest, and make them see the benefits of working with us instead of against us—"

"And once we've gotten what we need, we leave calmly and discreetly, leaving them to deal with the fallout." He says. "Lastly, Jin you will be our ears and eyes. Get into their security systems, disrupt their communications, and eliminate their element of surprise."

Jin nods and then folds the blueprint map, bringing their plan development to a close. It won't be easy, but we've faced bigger challenges before, and with our collective skills, we can turn this situation to our advantage."

Hours later...

As darkness fell over the city, shrouding the streets of Daegu, the seven members of the infamous mafia readied to carry out their plan. Each member wore tailored clothes, concealing their true identities behind a mask of authority and danger. The moon hovered high in the sky, a witness to the events that were about to take place.

The gang divided into two, a tactical choice that enhanced their chances of success. Jimin, the master seducer and show-stopper, took the lead, his steps silent and purposeful as he approached the Golden Dragons. With a charming smile and charismatic aura, he stepped inside, becoming the focal point of attention for the unsuspecting club-goers.

Meanwhile, Namjoon, Hoseok, Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook skillfully navigated their way to the respective entrances. Their movements were methodical, blending perfectly into the darkness as they slid past any potential enemies' attentive eyes. As they made their way to the upper level, where the rival gang's leader awaited, the air was thick with expectancy.

When the mafia members arrived at their location, their eyes met in unspoken agreement. Their targeted victim, the head of the opposing gang, would soon discover the magnitude of his foolishness.

Jin types on his powerful encrypted tablet. "The surveillance system is operational and under my command. We have eyes on the target. Be prepared to initiate the negotiation."

Namjoon nods. "Understood. Let's get started."

Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok entered the meeting space as the perfect persons to put in front of any psychological warfare. A sense of unsaid anticipation pervaded the tense environment within. The rival gang's leader sat confidently, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Ah, the infamous mafia. I must admit that I had been awaiting your arrival. Is it boldness or stupidity for you to step into a lion's den." He sings.

Namjoon straightens up, a calm veneer concealing his actual feelings. "Your arrogance will be your downfall. We've come to make you an offer."

Hoseok steps closer, his gaze focused on the gang leader. "Cooperate with us, and we'll ensure your survival. We have resources that will help both of our organizations."

"Money, power, and protection. We can provide you with all of that and more..." Yoongi's eyes narrows.

The man chuckles. "You think you can intimidate me? I built this empire from the ground up. I'm not interested in your offers or threats. Leave now, before I change my mind and send my men after you."

The gang leader's arrogant approach infuriated the members. They had expected resistance, but they had hoped for a gleam of reason in their adversary's eyes. Their expressions remained steely, their commitment unwavering.

Bangtan's leader leaned forward, his voice trembling with controlled rage. "You underestimate us, and that will be the price you pay. We gave you the option to avoid the path of calamity, but you decided not to."

"Empty threats from desperate fools," says the gang leader. "Mark my words: you'll be sorry."

Namjoon gives him a menacing glare. "You have no idea the scope of our power, the lengths we are ready to go to preserve what is ours. You've made a fatal mistake."

The tension in the room had reached its climax. The sound of footsteps suddenly resonated from the passageways beyond. The gang leader's grin widened as he realized reinforcements had arrived to strengthen his position.

The doors swung open, revealing a number of members of the opposing gang, guns drawn and aimed straight at Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok. The gang leader delighted in his seeming advantage.

"Surrender immediately, and I might let you live, says the gang leader. When faced with a loaded gun, your power means nothing."

Yoongi smirks, eyes gleaming with defiance. "Do you think you're the first one to threaten us? We've stared death in the face countless times. We are no longer afraid of it."

"You've once again underestimated us. These weapons will not protect you from the enmity you have caused." His tone eerily calm.

As the tension grew, the room devolved into mayhem. Taehyung, and Jungkook rushed through the doors, sending shockwaves throughout the club. As clubgoers hurried for the exits, anxious for safety, the mood switched from conflict to terror.

"Everyone, leave now! The show is over!" Jimin shouts in a commanding tone.

Taehyung grins wickedly. "Time to clear the stage."

In the midst of the chaos, the remaining gang members on the lowest floor were faced by the mafia members' overwhelming strength and competence. Jungkook attacked numerous opponents at the same time, his quick movements a blur of accuracy as he launched a barrage of lethal attacks. Taehyung swung his blade with lethal precision, each move meant to disable and incapacitate his opponents. And Jimin, like a dancer in the middle of a conflict, took advantage of his surroundings, turning whatever thing within reach into a weapon against his opponents.

The fierce brawl splashed blood on the walls and floor, the crash of steel and bone reverberating throughout the room.

They moved with an artful savagery that had been refined through years of training. Each hit connected with crushing force, knocking their opponents to the ground.

The thud of bodies striking the ground and the metallic aroma of blood permeated the air as the struggle continued on. The three youngest battled with merciless efficiency, their resolve unyielding. They moved in perfect sync, anticipating each other's movements without uttering words. Their combined skills created a relentless assault that ripped through the remaining gang members with ruthless precision.

Jungkook's martial arts prowess was on full show. He avoided attacks with ease and returned with lightning-fast kicks and punches, his motions smooth and deadly. Three gang members converged on him, but he matched their aggression with a fatal mix of punches and grapples. Under the attack, his opponents' corpses crashed to the ground in a symphony of agony.

Meanwhile, Taehyung displayed his proficiency with weaponry. His marksmanship was unsurpassed as he fired with remarkable accuracy with a pair of handguns. The sound of gunfire flooded the air as bullets struck their targets, incapacitating the gang members with pinpoint accuracy. Taehyung glided swiftly yet fatally, his aim perfect as he maneuvered through the mayhem.

Jimin, the epitome of elegance and deadly beauty, used his surroundings to his advantage. He moved through the fight with the ease of a dancer, sidestepping strikes while delivering powerful counterattacks. Every action was precise and controlled, and his attacks landed with such accuracy that his opponents were left reeling. He grabbed everything in his path—a shattered bottle, a chair leg—and transformed it into an extension of his own murderous prowess.

The blood spattered the floor, ruining the club's once-pristine surfaces. As the surviving gang members crumpled beneath the attack, groans of anguish filled the atmosphere. The room had turned into a battleground, with broken corpses and shattered illusions of authority.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook quickly tied up the other gang members, assuring they presented no further threat. The increasing pandemonium downstairs drowned out their moans and barely aware pleadings for mercy.

The three combatants reunited and proceeded to the secret meeting place. Yoongi stood next to the bound gang leader, a wicked grin twisting his lips.

Yoongi sighs, acting to be disappointed. "It appears that the time for bargaining has passed. You've made your decision, and now you must live with the consequences."

"Please, spare me. I'll tell you everything you want to know." The poor man begs, with terror visible in his eyes.

Yoongi leans forward, his voice frightening. "It's too late for pleas and mercy. You should have considered the consequences before refusing our offer."

"No way. He doesn't deserve to die quickly. He deserves to suffer." As his tolerance dwindles, he wears a sickly grin on his face.

The gang leader's eyes widened in horror as he realized his fate. Yoongi approached a table covered in torture tools, a disturbing calm surrounding him.

"You should've taken our bribe and answered our questions. But now, piece by painful piece, we'll extract the truth from you." He hums softly, relishing the present moment.

As Yoongi's tactics unfurled, the room transformed into a theater of anguish and misery. The miserable screams of the gang leader pierced into the night, his body contorting with each agony inflicted on him. The blood poured freely, combining with the dread and desperation on his face.

Hoseok clicks his tongue, impatiently. “He's asking for a slow death, Oranyan. Simply give it to him.”

On the verge of death, the gang leader pled for mercy once again, divulging the information sought by the mafia members.

The gang leader gasps. "T-The receiver is anonymous. We were simply instructed to arrange the regular transport of particular m-materials…Promises of land and m-money…"

"What were the materials being used for?" Yoongi lowers himself to his level.

As he breaks into sobs, he shakes his head. "I-I don't know…"

Oranyan sighs once more, disappointed by his noncompliance. And shifts to get his next torture device. The man notices this and quickly panics. "Wait- Wait- Wait!"

Yoongi wrinkles his brow, anticipating his next words. "They-They…. claimed it was for some sort of g-government weaponry project."

"What." Hearing the man's remark, Namjoon perks up. "You're lying."

"N-no, I'm not. I s-swear…" He whimpers.

"Shadow Hacker."

"Yes, boss."

"You heard that right." Namjoon clarifies.

"Yeah, I did… We all did…." The mafia members had a secret accord once the information was collected. The work had been completed, and their verdict had been rendered. They showed no compassion when they killed the gang leader, the fires of their retribution devouring the club.

The flames lighted the sky in the blackness of the night, destroying all evidence of their existence. The club, once an oasis for criminals, was turned to ashes, a tribute to the seven mafia members' strength and savagery.

The early morning light filtered through the cracks in the thick drapes, giving a faint glow on the room where the seven mafia members had assembled. The air was strained, thick with incredulity, rage, and fear. The weight of the reality they had discovered rested on their shoulders as they sat around a long oak table, their faces marked with exhaustion and anxiety.

Namjoon leaned forward, his gaze riveted on Jin. "Jin-hyung, have you found anything?"

Jin exhaled heavily, the lack of sleep evident. "I scoured every corner of the internet and every database I could find—"

"—But there isn't anything. No digital footprint, no traces of this operation. It appears that they have completely covered up any evidence of themselves. He answered.

Yoongi, who was sitting next to Namjoon, chuckled bitterly. "Stealing medical supplies and tools for some weaponry project…"

"What kind of a sick game are they playing?"

Jimin's brow wrinkled further, lines of concern etched over his brow. "We've faced rival gangs, dealt with power-hungry criminals, but this… this is something else," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're up against our own government and military."

Jungkook tightened his fists, his muscles stiff with anticipation. "We've never been prepared for something like this."

Hoseok slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "This operation reeks of corruption."

Taehyung, usually the carefree member of the group, stared at his phone absentmindedly. As the device buzzed, indicating a new message, his countenance turned from interest to surprise. The other members noticed the interruption and turned to him with inquisitive looks.

"I asked Sun-woo to keep an eye on Y/N." He explained.

"Why-? The whole purpose of her being enrolled in school is so that Sun-woo won't have the burden of looking after her 24/7 while we're away." Hoseok furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Well, just like Jungkook said earlier, she's kind of in a very foreign environment with no knowledge of anything and everything she's encountered." Taehyung replied. "And have you seen kids nowadays? They can be ruthless."

Jimin playfully rolled his eyes. "What you talking about Tae? They all saw her walk in with all of us. I'm pretty sure they're not stupid enough to touch her."

"Hyung- I know you're not that old, but times have changed, if you noticed." Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, the marksman softly smirks at the image of you—you're blissfully unaware, with an innocent wondering expression on your face. When his phone buzzed again, his smile vanished and his face twisted into a deep scowl.

He shoved his phone in their faces, showing them the photo, his annoyance mounting. "Who the fuck is this? And why is he so close to her?!"

Members exchanged amused and exasperated glances. Jimin humored and nudged Jungkook, murmuring, "Looks like Taehyung is getting jealous."

Yoongi rolled his eyes, his voice flat. "Why does it matter, anyway?"

"She's in school. She's bound to meet people. However, I'm surprised someone actually wants to interact with her." He muses sarcastically.

"Be nice, stop it." Jin hissed, smacking the back of Yoongi's head, causing the younger to scowl at the contact.

And Namjoon, Seokjin, and Hoseok, on the other hand, admonished Taehyung to concentrate on the more serious matter at hand. "We have a much bigger problem to deal with right now," Namjoon replied calmly but firmly.

"We need to stay focused."

The leader sat up straight and peered at his members' expressions. "So, what do we know so far?"

Jin cleared his throat, taking the lead in the discourse. Well, we know that whoever is behind this operation hired low-ranking gangs for the dirty work—"

"However, there is a strong possibility that they might be working with multiple groups."

Hoseok agrees with a nod. "And they've managed to buy their allegiance.

"Money and power talks, after all," he said, sounding irate.

Taehyung chuckled grimly, his voice tinged with bitterness. "It's the government, fucking government." "They have a plethora of resources at their disposal."

Jungkook interjected, his tone serious. "We can't just focus on the military. We need to consider political officials and various bases they could be using."

"Agreed." Namjoon says. "We should head back to headquarters, we can do more thorough research there. And—"

Suddenly, an explosion shattered the tranquility of the safe house. A bullet sped through the air, smashing the remaining intact window and scattering pieces of glass.

"Shit! Take cover!" Namjoon's words cut through the din as he darted behind a nearby overturned table, his tactical mind analyzing the situation swiftly.

The men were startled by the ear-piercing noise and the shards of glass flying around, their survival instincts promptly took over. Following their leader's orders, everyone dove for shelter, hiding behind overturned tables, containers, and whatever other solid item they could locate.

Bullets continued to pour down on them, cutting through the walls and creating a destructive symphony. The astringent aroma of gunpowder mingled with the adrenaline-fueled anxiety that dominated the room. The unidentified intruders had caught them off guard, but years of combat expertise and instinct kicked in, and the members took cover, establishing defensive positions.

Jungkook, famed for his ruthless and exceptionally quick fighting style, wasted no time. He charged forward, utilizing his incredible athleticism to avoid the oncoming bullets. His muscles rippled with force with each movement, his gaze bright and concentrated.

He covered the gap between himself and the nearest assailant in seconds, unleashing a barrage of annihilating strikes that left his opponents sprawled on the ground, gasping for air.

Jimin's fighting style was diametrically opposite Jungkook's raw savagery. His motions were smooth and exquisite, like a magnificently orchestrated ballet. He moved through the tumult with captivating grace, escaping assaults. Each attack he delivered was accurate, enhancing the impact and leaving his opponents stunned and confused.

Taehyung, who had depended on his firearms at first, found himself unarmed as the struggle heated up. But he refused to be caught off guard. He quickly grabbed the razor-sharp combat knife from his concealed sheath and switched into close-quarters battle.

As he whirled and spun, his fighting technique grew unexpectedly, the glitter of the blade a lethal blur. Despite the loss of his pistol, Taehyung kept fighting with such tenacity.

Hoseok, ever the kineticist and competent profiler, took advantage of his opponent's body language. His maneuvers were measured and purposeful, and he was always one step ahead of the game. He exploited flaws with dexterity, adopting unusual approaches that took his opponents off guard. His opponents were brought flying to the ground by a sequence of breakneck speed attacks and well-timed dodges, their expressions a mix of disbelief and defeat.

Yoongi's fighting technique stemmed from his wicked personality. He revered every encounter, deranged and merciless, relishing in the misery he inflicted. His strikes were barbaric, with a ferocity that went far beyond what was necessary. He didn't simply defeat his opponents; he ensured they felt lingering pain, a reminder of their helplessness. It was a dark side of him that the others embraced, recognizing that it had a place in their destructive world.

Seokjin, the group's tech support, and hacker, relied less on hand-to-hand combat but compensated with advanced technology. As the chaos unfurled, he rapidly drew from his armory, deploying a slew of non-lethal gadgets meant to disable rather than kill.

And as the siege ended, reality set in. This was not a random act of violence. It was a deliberate assault, well-planned and executed. Their adversary was competent, well-equipped, and most likely tied to the very forces they were working to expose.

"What the fuck just happened?" Jimin pants, wiping the blood from his lips.

"We're being watched, is what's happening." Namjoon answered gravely. "Eyes and ears are everywhere, and they've zeroed in on us."

"Fucking bastards." Yoongi mutters, frustratedly kicking a demolished chair that lay crooked.

The members exchanged glances, their eyes brimming with resolve and apprehension. They were well aware that this was only the beginning. The true war was still to come, a conflict against a foe they didn't completely comprehend.

The jigsaw pieces were gradually fitting together, but the complete image remained elusive. They also realized they were getting closer to unraveling a horrific web of secrets and lies.

"What do we do now?" Jungkook questions.

"We can't go back to headquarters just yet, that's for sure." Hoseok responds.

"Change of plans, gentlemen, we'll have to find a place to lay low for a while before we can move." Namjoon declares.

masterpost | three | four | five

── 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐍

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: without a major, eye catching skill, you attempt to make up for it by doing everything for everyone all at once--the crew only notices when it all comes crashing down.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: strawhats x sanjissister!reader, minor zoro x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.6k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: reader is sanji's sister, reader is bad at emotions (same), first fic of college! woo!, injuries, stitches, blood, angst and comfort, requested

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐀

Being the Strawhat Boatswain was no easy task, but you held it with determination and pride. Even when your crew made the job more than difficult.

You took in a deep breath and let it out slowly; Someone had messed with your inventory. 

Again.

You stood in the storage room, wondering who had the gall to come and move things around. The cannonballs were no longer in the crate by the window, but behind many other crates of lantern oil. The box once full of toothbrushes and toothpaste was down to its last bottle when it should still be half full. And to top it all off, the medical supplies shelf was out of order. The bandages were at the bottom and the disinfectant was next to the gauze!

It was enough to make your skin crawl.

Taking another deep breath, you shook out your shoulders, went through five stages of grief, and accepted the mess at hand, swiping a roll of bandages from the shelf and leaving the room to deal with some other day. 

Inventory was a job you liked. You took your role seriously, always on top of what was needed or wanted, ensuring it was acquired. Day in and day out you thought of everyone else, desperate to be useful.

You took this responsibility so seriously that your own self-care had gotten lost in the mix of Luffy’s food requests, Nami’s financial ledgers, and the weekly task of inventory. You’d lost sleep and skipped meals in the name of keeping order. 

Because if you didn’t, who would?

It didn’t matter anyway. You loved taking care of everyone. It made you feel useful. And as someone not as skilled with a sword or as knowledgeable with maps, that was worth a million hours of (much needed) sleep.

So you yawned and pushed open the door to your and Nami’s shared room, finding her hunched over her makeshift crate desk, squinting through the lamplight. Her forearm was still bleeding, splotches of red seeping through the first bandage. 

“I’ll handle this,” you startled her. “You fix that.”

Nami hadn’t seemed to notice the condition of her injury, chuckling dismissively as she worked at redressing the wound. “Thanks. My eyes needed a rest.”

Your own eyes longed to rest as she said it, straining under stress and overwork to finish doing the math of how many pounds of sugar, flour, and grain you’d need for the next stretch at sea. You picked up the sheet and made to your own desk, plopping down.

You underlined the last calculation as Nami tied off her bandage. Leaning back in your chair, you threw down your pencil and rested your eyes, knowing there was more work to be done despite the dark hour. As if on cue, the potter pattering of small hooves led up to your door, followed by a soft knocking. A smile spread on your face instantly. “Come in, Doc.”

The reindeer peeked his antlers and eyes in first, stepping inside when all was clear. “Is it a bad time?”

Nami swiveled to straddle the back of her desk chair. “Never. What’s up?”

His eyes blinked up at you first. “It’s time for your physical. Do you want to do it now?”

Immediate sirens went off in your head. “Physical?”

“We’ve all had one,” Nami piped in. “It’s just to make sure we’re all healthy. Your turn.”

“Good one,” you chuckled dryly. “I don’t do check ups, Doc. Sorry.”

Chopper’s little brows met instantly, his hooves falling to his sides. You shifted around to avoid his narrowed gaze. “Y/N, it’s important. I need to know where your health is so I can plan for the future.”

“My health is perfeclty fine and if anything changes,” you laughed, “I’ll let you know, Chop. I’m fine.”

But Nami wasn’t giving you a grin when you turned to her for support, her lips downturned. “I dunno. If Chopper thinks he should check you out then—”

“I said I’m good,” you snapped more sharply, going on in a concerningly peppy tone, “If I need help, I’ll ask for it.”

The way Chopper defleated nearly had you taking it all back, but you stood your ground, trying to make him feel better with a smile. His ears only drooped further until Nami said, “Can you help me, actually? I need to redo this bandage.”

She raised a brow over Chopper’s shoulder, silently asking a question you didn’t catch, so you grinned and shrugged it off. Standing, you caled over your shoulder, “I’m seeing if anyone needs anything.”

Chopper heaved a sigh as the door shut behind you. Nami pat his head gently, lips pursed. “She’ll warm up to it. Give ‘er time.”

“I know,” Chopper sighed. “I’m just… getting worried, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

Chopper thought back to the past few months he’d been on the crew. Overall, you didn’t exhibit any alarming behavior. You worked hard and cared deeply, that was all. But… Chopper couldn’t place it, but he wanted to make sure everything was really all right. “It’s nothing.”

Hopefully, you warmed up to check ups quickly, at least for his own sake.

જ ⁀ ➴

You'd been careless, or that's what you'd told everyone, at least.

The opposing pirate crew hadn't exactly caught the Straw Hats off guard. Nami was on watch, and she had a great record of raising alarm when needed. So when the enemy ship sidled up to the going merry and the dozen or so pirates jumped aboard, your crew was ready.

… You hadn't been at your best for days, maybe even weeks if you really admitted it. Sleep was so far away and your hunger was on this odd anxiety–induced strike. You barely felt real anymore, simply wandering through the ship doing various tasks that presented themselves, but never really taking time to breathe. 

So you weren't entirely surprised when a pirate caught you off guard, coming at you from behind and getting a nick at your side—not a nick, actually. His sword had marked a pretty deep gash at your waist, and even when you thought the flow of bleeding was done, you somehow had more to give.

In the aftermath of the fight, as much as you attempted to brush off the concerns of the others, your heaving breath and greenish complexion were giving away everything. Besides, Sanji had known something was up since the first time you'd told him you "weren't hungry enough for dinner."

So as the sun rose above the horizon and the cleaning of the Merry's deck was completed, there was no escaping your fate. The haze of night no longer concealed your wounds.

Usopp was the first to notice. His gaze caught your stuttering breaths and the very obvious grimace you gave when trying to haul a dead pirate over the railing. He took the weight of the body in seconds, tossing it over.

"You don't look too hot," he observed, to which you scoffed and flicked your hands in nonchalance.

"It's nothing I can't fix." But you hadn't realized just how much blood was soaking in the fabric of your shirt, and one turn of your body displayed the vast crimson to him. Usopp's sharp inhale caught your attention, and with a grunted snarl you griped, "What?"

By now, nami had walked past, her own eyes catching your shirt. You glanced down and cursed at the sight. "I'm fine, okay? It's not that bad—"

But Nami already called out, "Sanji!" 

You rolled your eyes, gut bubbling anxiously. "Relax, would you? It's just a scratch. Honestly, we should use supplies for worse wounds—"

The breathy gasp behind you was unmistakably your brother's, and you swiveled to find him staring at your abdomen. "Pip…”

"What?" you snapped, self-conscious as your crossed your arms.

Luffy and Zoro had joined the show as well, causing anxiety to burn a hole in your good sense.

Sanji couldn't move, couldn't say a word. As you fumed up at him, all he saw was his baby sister, her face growing paler by the second, the flutter of your eyes weak, the red staining your clothes growing larger—

And then it hit him: The battle had occurred several hours ago. His eyes snapped to meet yours. "How long have you been bleeding out?"

"Sanji—"

"Stop," he said, and you did, your jaw snapping back up. His eyes skimmed you over with a hundred different thoughts, before he broke the contact and gently approached you. “Let's get this cleaned up, yeah?"

He sounded so soft, so much like how he used to when you were just young enough to still get by not knowing how shit the world was. It made you flinch away from him, not at all fond of the warm feeling of vulnerability welling up inside. "Shove off, Sanji. You're shit at dressing wounds."

"I'll do it then," said Chopper, stepping forward. In the little reindeer’s eyes was far too much concern. It left your skin crawling.

"No." You backed away from them till your back hit the ship's side and tried to ignore how featherlight your head felt. "Don't waste good supplies on me. It's not worth it."

Sanji gaped. "... What?"

You sighed, frustrated, and made to storm back to your cabin to sulk away the pain seeping through your limbs, raising your head to snap at them again.

Immediately, you found Luffy's eyes locked on you, all your words falling flat. He had never been scary—he was Luffy—but right then, well, you were frightened by the look in his eyes; it was something like confusion mulled with frustration.

"Not worth it?" He echoed.

Glancing around for help and finding none, you shrugged.

Luffy blinked, and you felt like apologizing, but he spoke before you could. "It's not waste if it's used on you, Y/N."

"I..."

Sanji sighed like he was suddenly out of breath, catching your eye again. His eyes were shining, and not in the charming way. It was a heartbroken kind of look, and it ate away at your insides. "You didn't tell anyone... because you thought it wasn't worth it?"

"Well," you stammered. "I mean—it's not as bad as it looks."

You felt their stares—how each of them was looking at you with such pity it made you sick—and you cracked, sputtering. "Just back off! It's a little blood and I'll heal. Zoro did!"

The swordsman in question stiffened as you thrust a hand at him, his ever-deathly gaze boring into you. “Yeah, ‘cause I wasn't being a stubborn bitch about it."

You were in the middle of an eye roll when the headache started. Honestly, why did they care? It was you keeping up with their asses half the time. You didn't need the same treatment. You had your own shit handled.

You tried walking away, and you thought you'd had it handled, but then the world started spinning, and your side really did ache, and suddenly you were in sanji's arms as he gritted out your name.

You were tired, very tired, so you blinked up at him, and fell asleep.

As one can assume, the entire crew lost their shit.

જ ⁀ ➴

In the eight hours you were unconscious, nobody sat still. Someone was always pacing, arguing, tapping something—agitation just sat over the whole ship. 

Sanji would say those eight hours were the longest hours of his life. He would say it rivaled the eighty-five days on that damn rock. It rivaled everything, because it was you. His sister. 

He couldn’t bring himself to debrief all that you’d said and what it meant… but him mind brought him there anyway. Sanji beat himself up over and over. If only he’d noticed something was wrong—he should have noticed… which made him realize he hadn’t a clue what was wrong.

He was in the middle of cooking your favorite meal for when you woke up when the image of you fainting in a graceful arc crossed his mind, and how he’d lunged to catch you. Maybe it was just being in the kitchen, but it somewhat reminded him of when you were kids.

You, so much younger and frailer, were prancing atop the counteertops of the Baratie, playing the part of Red Leg Zeff with your boots covered in marinara. The real Zeff, not so Red Legged, battled you with a wooden spoon as he simultaneously fought of his growing fondness. You tripped over your own slimy boot laces and, ever the dramatic, used the opportunity to swan dive to the floor.

Yet you hadn’t made it to the floor, not even close. Sanji had you safe in his arms the second your foot slipped off the counter. When he scolded you for being reckless, you grinned and chirped, “I knew you’d catch me!”

Sanji had caught you again, but not fast enough this time. Lately, he was never fast enough to keep up with your ever-growing mind. Each day you got quicker on your feet, jumping to accomplish task after task after task—Sanji paused as he prepared the food. When was the last time he saw you take a break?

When you woke up, your head was anywhere but in your body, the sensations of the room around you slowly drifting back to you.

Groggy, you shuffled in the sheets, skin sticky with sweat. Your eyes adjusted to the brightness, fluttering open. You sat up groaning, blinking fully awake, only to pause. Sat on the stool across from your bed was Zoro, solemn as ever. He looked half asleep, but the sound of your rustling startled him awake, eyes lazily widening to take you in. 

He made to ask something, but you beat him to it, woozily wondering about the odd tick in his brow. "What's up with your face?"

His brows screwed together, but that look never left his eyes; you couldn't place what it was. "What d’you mean?"

"You look..." Your eyes flickered all over him, and you thought maybe, he looked relieved. "Nothing. Sorry. I feel weird."

“I’ll bet.” He leaned forward to glance you over, and you settled on yes, Zoro was definitely concerned. He'd never looked that way before, and the oddity had you leaning closer subconsciously. Zoro jerked back instantly, blinking quickly. "You feel better, though, right?”

You did a quick check of your body, sensing your limbs and tapping at the bandage covering your abdomen. “I think so.” 

Zoro nodded stiffly, eyes flickering all over the floor. “Want me to get Twirly? I mean—Sanji?"

Typically, you weren’t the transparent type, but your head wasn't where it should be, so all your thoughts suddenly came out as words. "Is he mad? He usually gets mad when I get hurt."

Zoro moved to kneel at your bedside when you started to prop yourself up, eyes glued to your lap. He watched you carefully. "I don't think he's mad at you."

"But I got hurt," you exasperated. "I wasn't watching my back and got—got skewered! He hates it when I get... skewered." You rubbed at your temples and let out a weak laugh, brain fog fading. "Am I making sense?"

You raised your gaze to find a hint of amusement on Zoro’s face, his lips tipped upward. "Barely, but I follow."

You felt at your side, wincing at the pricking pain of the wound and the bruise forming around it. Chopper had done a good job with the bandage, though it was about time to change it.

"Hey," he said, dragging your wandering attention back to him.

"Yeah?"

Zoro's face grew cold. "Don't ever pull that shit again. You get hurt, you tell someone. Even if you think it's a waste."

You averted your eyes. "Yeah. Cross my heart and shit."

He wasn't satisfied, but he leaned back and raked a hand through his hair, leaving it alone for now. That was when the door opened, and you felt his presence before you ever turned your face.

"Oh, God," Sanji gasped. He rushed to your side, falling to his knees and setting a hand on your shoulder, just staring at you like you weren't even real. He passed a hand over your hair and sighed like he had the weight of Atlas on him.

"You're okay," he said, not so much a question, more of a reassurance. Neither of you noticed when Zoro slipped out of the room, nor when he knocked into the doorframe as he went.

"I'm okay," you said.

Sanji's hugs had always been lethal, always too tight for comfort but too sweet to turn away—and this was no different. His arms were careful to avoid your side as he pulled you to him, your head finding a nook against his chest as his chin rested on your head, and he squeezed you tightly.

Silently, you let him hold you, remaining still against him. You felt his tears, but never heard them. You felt his grip on you like a brand, that same old discomfort crawling through your gut the longer the intimacy went on. But you withstood it, an odd kind of burn creeping up your throat.

You choked on a cough—no, you weren't coughing. You couldn't fool yourself into believing such a lie, not when your eyes slammed shut and forced streams of tears down your cheeks. Your hands clawed at his sleeves as a warbled cry claws its way from your lips. 

"You're worth everything," he whispered into your hair. "Oh, God. I really thought..."

"But I didn't." you calmed your ragged breaths. "I'm fine."

He nearly laughed. "Fine? Pipsqueak, you were out half the day!"

You pulled back with a grin. "Eh. Just a scratch."

Sanji shook his head, smiling, before it fell instantaneously. He held you by your shoulders, shaking you slightly. "Why would you... was it something I did? I would never—"

"No! No, it was nothing you did."

"Then why in hell would you try to walk off a wound that needed sixteen stitches!"

"I don't know!" you looked away. "I just... there was too much to do. Everyone would need things done after a battle like that. I wanted to be, I dunno, ready and able."

Sanji still didn't understand. "What things?"

"You know," you started. "Things." He gave you a look. You sighed. "Like... sometimes Zoro lets me polish his swords, and in exchange he'll clean the little nicks he claims won't give him infections. And I think Luffy's hat needed fixing. Usopp never organizes the canon balls right and it makes me nervous, so I always go back and redo it… And on top of all that someone went through my inventory."

He took you in for a moment, and you felt very, very transparent all of a sudden. "None of that is your responsibility alone."

"Yeah, but, who else is gonna do them? Everyone’s so busy doing their things. I don't have a thing, so I do everything, I guess."

Sanji tilted his head, brows knit. "You do too have a thing."

"I really don't, Sanji. I don't cook or kick people like you. I'm not amazing with swords or a slingshot. I can't navigate for shit or heal wounds... so I help. If I don't, I'm pretty much deadweight." In the following silence, you mumbled something you never thought you’d have the courage to say. “Face it. Luffy only invited me because I’m your sister.”

Perhaps you should go back to the Baratie, as much as the thought sickened you. Zeff would never turn you away, and he’d even be happy to have you back. 

“Not true.” You looked up, heart dropping at the sight of luffy in the doorway, the rest of the crew behind him. You shot Zoro an accusatory glare, wiping furiously at your face. Perfect. A waiting audience.

You rasped, “What?”

Luffy moved into the room, face sullen, his hat and curls shadowing his face. “I didn’t invite you because of Sanji.” Luffy ducked down to be eye level with you on the bed. “Honestly, I didn’t know you were related till a few days after you joined.”

“Oh.” Sniffling, you ducked your eyes. “Then why? I… I don’t contribute much of anything, and when I try I wind up passed out for half a day.”

Nami scoffed, “That wasn’t your fault.”

You scoffed right back. “I shouldn’t have left my back unguarded.”

“You shouldn’t have been skipping sleep,” Zoro rebuttled, eyes steely. “And meals.”

Swiping at your cheek again, “Screw you.” You picked at your nails and refused to look up at all costs. It was difficult with Luffy right in your face.

The captain had his brows screwed together. His eyes bore into you till he grew tired of your avoidance and lightly pushed at your shoulder. Your gaze flicked up to meet his, quick to glance at the wall over his shoulder. 

“Y/N,” he muttered, “We care about you. And you worried us.”

And just like that, all your work to keep the tears in crumbled; one rebellious tear escaped, leading a dangerous path down to your chin. “Yeah. I know.”

That got a whisper of a smile back on Luffy’s face, and his hand came to plop down on you shoulder. “You’re part of this crew because we need you.”

“For what?” you dared to scoff. Instantly, Luffy’s eyes narrowed further than you thought possible. 

He echoed your words back to you like they felt weird on his tongue, and gave no further reply, simply staring right through you. You had already shirvled into yourself by the time Sanji stepped in.

“I can never keep track of how much food we go through,” he said, nudging your shoulder, “but somehow you always know exactly what we need and how much. As a chef, you inventory is vital to me.”

“I’m convinced you’re a mind reader,” Usopp added on. “Still no clue how you knew I wanted marshmallows last week.”

You chuckled dryly, gaze still heavy, obviously hesitant to take them serious. Nami sighed deeply.

“Listen,” she started, moving to kneel in front of you. It was times like this Nami felt much older, when her eyes peered into yours and it felt like home (a home so distant you ached to remember it). “It doesn’t matter what you believe. You contribute so much to this crew, more than you need to most days.”

Chopper bobbed up beside her. “Yeah! You do everything and then you never let me look after you!” It was hard to focus on what he said when he was so cute, but somehow when he narrowed his eyes all angry like, he held your rapt attention. “Let me do my job, so you’re able to do yours!”

“On the topic,” Zoro grunted, “quit overworking yourself. When Usopp fucks up the canonballs let him fix it himself.”

“Hey!”

You barely withheld a smile. “But… there’s still so much I can’t do—”

Zoro rolled his eyes. “You wanna learn how to fight? I’ll teach you. Just—quit being stupid and sleep, dammit.” His cheeks dusted pink and his eyes darted to the wall, unable to catch your tentative expression.

Luffy squeezed your shoulder. “You’re our boatswain. Just like Nami is our navigator and Sanji is our cook. The only one questioning your position is you.”

You sniffled, looking right in his eyes, and something in what he said finally broke through. You couldn’t cook or fight or navigate—but you had a damn good memory, you kept the ship organized, you made sure no one ever wanted for anything. You were the Strawhat Boatswain. Surely that held some weight.

“Okay, yeah, I get it,” you muttered, palms pressing against your cheeks as you cleared your throat. Glancing around at them all, you shoved down the creeping feeling in your chest and grinned cheekily. “But whoever’s been screwing with the storage room better knock it off, or I’ll be up all night fixing their mess.”

Silence enveloped you as everyone glanced around for suspicion, when Chopper burst forth with watery eyes. “I’m sorry! Really sorry! I didn’t realize I messed it up, I—I—”

“Slow down,” you smiled. You caught Chopper’s hooves in your hands and squeezed them tight. “It’s okay. I’m not really upset.”

If it was anyone else, maybe the story would be different, but all you felt was warm affection staring down at Chopper. He nodded swiftly. “I’ll help you fix it! Don’t worry.”

“I’ll help too,” offered Nami, none too subtle as she jabbed her elbow in the crook of Luffy’s side. 

“Ow! What—Quit that!” Luffy nursed the sting in his side, brows screwed together. “Me too, I guess…”

“We all will,” Nami declared, eyes scanning the room in search of an objection. She found none, a pleased smile gracing her lips. “See? You don’t even need to ask. We want to help you. Remember that next time you feel like everything is on you.”

“All right,” you conceded warmly. That familiar affection tugged on your heartstrings. You slid your legs off the bed and made to stand when a hand clamped down on your shoulder and nearly knocked you down. “Sanji, let go.”

Your brother’s jaw was set and gaze resolved, scaring the stubbornness right out of you. “You need rest. We can fix the storage room tomorrow, Pipsqueak.”

“But—”

“You’re actively bleeding through your stitches,” he cut you off, grinning when you pouted. “Tomorrow. Your inventory isn’t going anywhere.”

You were left gaping at him, eyes scanning for someone on your side. Nami raised a brow. Zoro’s expression was blank. Usopp avoided your eye. Chopper looked so sure of himself that you didn’t even try. So instead, you puffed out a breath and readjusted yourself on the bed. 

“I expect everyone’s attendance tomorrow morning,” you grumbled.

Usopp gawked at you. “Morning?”

One glare was all it took and his jaw snapped back up. Your temples began to throb fiercely, the gradual increase in pressure suddenly erupting into a full ache. The base of your neck was sore too and your lash line weighed down in gentle flutters. Sanji’s hand on your shoulder kept you from floating away into the delirium, your gaze searching as it swept over all your friends.

That tight tendril of awkward affection curled around your heart, as it often did, and it felt as undesirable as always. But no one pressed for any outward expression of it; your friends simply stood in your midst, wearing there hearts on sleeves of various vulnerability, not a hint of expectation anywhere on their faces. 

Times like this, you thought maybe you could bare to ditch your fears. Then again, maybe not, but you dismissed the hope fondly. 

“All right,” Chopper grunted, cheeks puffed. “Everyone out. She needs lots of rest—starting now!”

You chuckled dryly as the little doctor shooed everyone away. Nami shot you a quick little wave and disapeared into the hall, Sanji squeezed your hand, and Usopp gave a brief thumbs up. Zoro was left holding the door, solemn as ever, and paused int he act of closing the door. He appeared between the door and the frame, not quite in yet not quite out either.

“I was serious,” he said lowly.

You tilted your head. “About overowkring myself?”

“Well, yeah, that,” he stammered. “I mean about learning to fight. I’ll teach you.”

You’re sure your eyes glimmered, heart thrumming unexpectedly. “Really?” He nodded, crossing his arms. “Sanji won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t like a lot of things.”

“Primarily you.”

A scant smirk, one born of mischief and misdeed, crept up his face. “Primarily me, yeah.”

You shook your head and fought back a smile. “I don’t have a sword.”

He paused long enough for you to notice. “I’ve got three.”

“I couldn’t,” you said instantly, jaw falling open. “Those’re important.”

Zoro rolled a shoulder and combed at his hair. “I trust you.”

He was gone before you’d finished gasping, eyes wide as the door swung shut in his wake, and unsure when a sudden heatwave had flooded the room.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @murnsondock @kryscent