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

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

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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)

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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

I COULD DO THIS FOR HOURS

G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader

🔞 mdni / mdnr / smut / n.sfw / 18+ content

NOTE: i took a 3 am thirst draft and made it a fucking fic wtf 🥴 i'm so dizzy over this one idk why i usually don't drool for my own smut but god damn this one is special to me. ik i post a lot about gojo atm and it's because i love him no apologies 👍

SUMMARY — making a cheeky comment leads to a long, steamy session in the bedroom with your husband, who's got a point to prove.

WARNINGS — nasty smut 🤤, rough sex, namecalling/nicknames (b*tch, good girl, baby, dirty girl, sweetheart), he's kinda mean, hubby gojo, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, messy/sweaty sex, daddy kink, p*ssy kiss (1), long session (3h), overstim, dirty talk (teasing, sweet, mean), incl. aftercare, lmk if i have missed smth thank u

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k

PLAYME — daddy

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

Your husband didn’t like that cheeky comment you made about his stamina and how fast he cums. He thought you were being pretty hypocritical, considering the fact that you cum sometimes solely because of lazy clit thumbing and shallow strokes.

“ Baby, careful what you say to me. “ he smiled at you in the kitchen, serenely washing the dishes after dinner. “ You know damn well that I could go for hours straight with no breaks. The only reason I don’t do that is because you’re too weak to handle it. ” he boasted confidently.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. That scepticism pissed him off so much that he stopped cleaning the dishes and violently threw the towel down. Your giggles rung sweetly in his ear while he scooped you off your feet and tossed you over his broad shoulder, strong build carrying you to the bedroom like he was on a mission.

He threw you down on the bed with the same force that he threw the towel down with, his hands quickly finding his phone and setting a stopwatch.

You were already giggling apologies, but he wasn’t listening. He tossed his phone onto the bed and dented the mattress with his weight as he climbed on top of you, feverish kisses nearly knocking the wind out of you.

“ I’m sorryh – mmf – ‘toruh – didn’t meanh ih – I’m sorryyy. ”

“ Save your sorries and spread your legs. Gonna have to be a little rough with you, angel. But you like that, huh ? Yeah ? Like it when daddy’s rough ? Mhm, I know. Probably like it when I’m pissed off like this, too.

You smiled. “ Yeahhh, I love it. ”

He smirked. “ Dirty girl. ”

Folding you in half and sinking his cock inside you, it felt like he was your enemy for a second with how he beat up your gummy walls with his mean cock; you were giggling and squirming about his playful roughness in the beginning, but now? You’re screaming, going dumb and limp. It makes him chuckle.

“ Fuck, baby, just look at you. ” he cooed, “ . . . just cumming over and over on this dick like a dumb bitch. I told you that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, didn’t I ? Uh-huh. I fucking told you so. Keep it together, it’s only been twenty minutes. Haha . . . and you were the one talking shit about my stamina ? Come on, apologize to me. Good girl. Tell daddy how sorry you are – haha, you cummin’? Yeah, ‘can feel your pussy fuckin’ pulsing ‘round me – fuck that’s good. You like it when I’m mean, don’t you ? ”

“ Y-yesss ! Love it love it s'much Sa—to—ruuuh ! ” you panted frantically, body jiggling like jelly with each harsh thrust.

“ So cute and dumb. ” he cooed tenderly, as if he wasn’t rearranging your guts and breaking the bed.

“ Feel that, sweetheart ? Feel me sweating ? I know you like it when I’m this close, ‘like it when you can feel the sweat drip off my abs ‘n rub against your tummy ? Yeah, I know. Damn dirty bitch. Nah-uh, eyes on me. ‘S only been an hour don’t zone out on me. ”

Really, the concept of time flew out of your head when you were laying there taking him.

You’re shaking, gummy walls and sweet spots being beat up by your husband’s mean, yummy cock. The pressure inside you builds and builds until it snaps, and you scream his name in such a high pitch that it almost makes his ears ring. He laughs a little, watching as you writhe, trapped under his beefy body. He relishes in the feeling of your pussy pulsing as you cum, it brings him close, too. Before you know it, he’s pumping his cream deep inside, pounding into you like he’s trying to ruin your pussy and reshape it to fit only his cock.

“ Fuckin’ takin’ it so well, angel. Now ‘gimme another round. Get on your tummy – there we go, aw your legs are numb ? I don’t care. It’s only been an hour. You can hold on longer than that, can’t you ? ”

From the back, he fucks you so sensually and deeply that the two of you sweat sweat sweat it up. He insistently bundles up with you under the covers to make it extra toasty. The smell of sex is hot and pungent in your lungs, and inhaling yours and his arousal and scent of cum drives him crazy. Bodies wet and slippery, he’s made a sloppy mess of you before but not quite like this; his cheeks dampen, his hair sticks to his forehead; there’s little rivulets of sweat running down the center line of his abs, following along his v-line. There’s an ache in your thighs, you’re getting overstimulated but it’s so good. And listening to his ragged, heavy breathing behind you just brings on another orgasm.

“ Fuck, baby, ‘wish you could see yourself from this angle. ” he groans erotically, brows finally knitting together tightly as he loses composure and succumbs to his own sensitivity. “ Oh, angel, just cum. Don’t hold it in – cum cum cum yeahhh there we go – that’s my fucking girl. Cumming so pretty on this dick. You’re so fucking beautiful, ‘m gonna cum too. Sh-shit look at all that frothing up, feel that ? ‘so gooey and nasty. Hahhh-ahah I’m cumin’ – cumminggg ~ ”

You can practically hear the hearts in his voice when he cums, vocals straining and rasping against the nape of your neck. He lets out this one last primal sound before pumping you full of another load of thick creamy cum. You can feel him pulsing and twitching. He presses his weight onto your back a little too much, you can feel the tones of his sweaty torso and how wet and hot his body is.

“ Haha . . . fuck . . . ” he runs a hand through his hair, smiling down at the pretty mess on his dick. “ Baby, you did so good for me. You okay ? Did I go too hard ? ” he asks tenderly, nuzzling the back of your neck, just listening to your shaky breaths as you come down from your high.

“ I can’t feel my legs. ” you swallow, dazed smile on your face. “ So good . . . ”

“ Aw, sorry, angel. I’ve got you, come here. Ooh – where’s my – phone – let’s see how long you endured me for. ”

“ Felt like . . . forever . . . ”

He chuckled under his breath at that and leaned off the bed, reaching for his phone that had fallen right off the edge when he was making the bed violently shake earlier.

“ Ooh ! Baby, we’ve got a new record. Three hours. ”

“ Oh my god, no wonder I can barely fucking move . . . you’re a menace. ”

He smiles cheekily, “ Wanna make it four ? ”

“ Are you crazy ?! ”

“ Yes, of course. Don’t you love me for it ? ” he coos in a sultry voice, coming to press a loving kiss to your damp cheek.

You feel his weight lift off the bed, you tiredly peek at where he’s going and – of course, like the sweet husband he is, he’s getting you a towel. You can hear his exhausted huffs of breath. There’s cream running down your slit, some smeared across your pussy and frothed up.

He comes back into the room, smiling admiringly at your sleepy body. You’re sinking into the pillows, too tired to think.

“ ‘toru . . . ”

“ Angel ? ” he hums in response, slowly starting to clean you up from the thighs up. You feel his big hands massaging the numbness out of your legs.

“ I love you. ”

He smirks and presses a kiss to your pussy from the back, making you giggle. “ Love you too, my girl. No one makes me feel better than you do. Come here. Haha, are your legs still numb ? Should I massage them more ? M'kay, sweet girl. ”

The silence is sweet and long. He's massaging your body, feeling over you like you're his little masterpiece, his little angel.

Then he breaks the silence.

“ Told you so. ” he smiles victoriously.

You groan. “ Shut up. I was just teasing when I said you had shit stamina ! ”

“ I know, but I still hated that you said it and felt the need to prove a point. ”

You snuggle into his chest, making his heart flutter like he's a boy with a crush again.

“ Yeah yeah, point proven. ”

“ Aaand what's the point ? Tell me, I wanna hear it. ” he teases.

“ You can go on for hours. ”

He smiles to himself. “ Damn right I can. Glad my good girl learned her lesson. ”

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

── 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

Twisted Wonderland: Smut Shot - Jade catches Yandere Floyd claiming his Darling.  Warning: Explicit sex scene, !NONCON!, Female Reader, Yandere themes, Dark themes, Break up.

Request:  Will you do a NTR request? Like MC dating Jade but yan!Floyd obsessed with her and decide to claim her when Jade is not around. And when they are chakalakabumbum Jade come in, then Floyd ask him if he want to join them. Jade can make a choose, i want you to decide what will he do :>

Author’s note: Thank you for the wonderful request! <3 Enjoy <3 

The scent of mint and citrus wafted through the air of Jade’s bedroom, while your spine was pressed against his brother’s mattress, preventing you from running away. The room was dark and cold, and yet you could still make out a pair of golden and olive orbs staring right at you, with raw hunger, lust and even love playing in their depths. The clothes that you previously wore were torn into shreds by the wild eel, revealing the flesh of your breasts, tummy, thighs and perfectly shaped pussy to his famished gaze, while his tongue slithered into your ear canal, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. “You look so beautiful and smell so good Shrimpy…haa to think that Jade had you all to himself until today…it wasn’t fair.”

Keep reading

Punch To Love || Yan Delinquent x GN Reader

Characters: Bone

Summary: School Delinquent wants your attention

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence

a/n: He's a softy. This is Jesse's rival.

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Yan Delinquent who doesn't really go to class. Only goes when he needs to keep himself from getting expelled. He doesn't want to worry his mom. Or his sister. He manages to keep his grades up enough too.

Yan Delinquent who meets you early on in the semester when a group project was assigned. He honestly wouldn't have thought you would pick him to be your partner, especially when the pink weirdo is stuck to your side.

Yan Delinquent who ends up putting in more effort than he thought he would have when with you. He's even more shocked when you take interest in him after, wanting to stay and get to know him. He's usually alone, so this is a complete switch to what he's used too.

Yan Delinquent who after a couple of weeks when the project finishes, can't seem to forget you. You were different. He liked that a lot. Whenever he smoked on campus, he imagined what it would be like to kiss you right after. Oh god he's screwed.

Yan Delinquent who denies he has the biggest crush ever on you. Sure he stalks you from a distance. Sure he wishes he could punch the pink weirdo. Sure he fights behind your back when someone insults you. But that's just because he's repaying your kindness. Nothing more.

Yan Delinquent who takes a lot of time to accept the fact that he's completely whipped for you. It only takes one of his buddies to point out how puppylike he is when you're around. It's embarrassing at first, but he's so happy.

Yan Delinquent who finds himself coming to the classes you share more often. He often finds himself also seeking out your help to study and on topics he doesn't understand. Man he relishes the disappointed look the pink weirdo has when you tell him that you had to study with someone else.

Yan Delinquent who loves staying late in the library with you. The smell of his coffee is a lot more calming than his cigarettes, but he can't help the cravings. He's trying so hard to fight them back to look more studious in front of you.

Yan Delinquent who gets harassed by the pink weirdo you call your best friend the day after. The pink haired boy is taking pictures of him and saying he could never be good enough. Well that may be true, but he would treat you so much better than your pink loving best friend.

Yan Delinquent who watches your best friend showcase the pictures he took of the delinquent smoking, cutting class, and beating up a not so defenseless student. In awe, he watches you deny your best friend's claims and actually show your trust in the delinquent. He needs you to marry him right now.

Yan Delinquent who hangs out with you a lot more now. He invites you to ditch class with him and leave campus with him. He even feels more comfortable to smoke around you. You don't judge, and it makes him so fuzzy, though if you express your distaste for the smell then he'll try to avoid doing so in front of you.

Yan Delinquent who gets interrogated by his mom about you. He's so embarrassed when he has to explain why he's so smiley now and that he's been more motivated when around you. She's so happy that he finally has a good influence in his life though. His litter sister is even more curious.

Yan Delinquent who runs into you outside of school when he takes his sister to the park. He gets all blushy and lets his sister run around the jungle gym when he talks to you. He's so different outside of school. He's so much softer and less broody.

Yan Delinquent who has to stop his little sister from embarrassing him when she sees you. She asks you so many questions and if you're the person that he was telling his mom about. You were flattered, and she became so attached to you.

Yan Delinquent who is so good at hiding the fact that he gets into fights for you. Sure he gets a few cuts and bruises, but it's so easy to lie. Some bitch was encouraging on his area and he was defending himself. Your naivety is his best friend at this point.

Yan Delinquent who comes to you when he does get injured. Your hands are so delicate when handling him, he can't help but blush when your fingers feel like feathers against his skin. It alleviates all pain he feels. Even when it's just a small paper cut, and you're putting on a silly cartoon band-aid on it.

Yan Delinquent who becomes surprisingly whiny when you won't treat his wounds. What do you mean he doesn't need a band-aid and your gentle touch when bumps something against a door? Maybe you should kiss it better and he'll stop whining.

Yan Delinquent who threatens freely. He will glare and snarl at anyone who tries to get close to you. The only one bold enough to never back down is that pink haired weirdo. He can't stand him! Though he can't express his distaste for your best friend.

Yan Delinquent who introduces you to his mom after she pesters him enough. He brings you over to dinner and has to sit through so many embarrassing questions and anecdotes. He did not need you to know that he cried when he was 5 because Santa didn't bring him what he wanted for Christmas.

Yan Delinquent who is very clearly becoming your guard dog. Scary boyfriend privileges. He can't help but want to keep you safe. You're a pure rarity in his world, and he'll be damned if he loses it. Especially to that pink haired weirdo who is trying so hard to keep you two apart.

Yan Delinquent who finally throws hands with the pink weirdo. Both take and deliver punches like no tomorrow until you come to break up the fight. Now, they're both sitting in the nurse's office glaring at each other with you taking care of both of them. It would have been a dream if that cute prick wasn't here ruining his day.

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Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!