#I bought a plastic knife because I saw it and thought 'spi.'

[kipowolfton]

sometimes I think I want to die

and then I see a ring made out of a teeny tiny wrench and think "Engie ring. Must buy." And now my finger is fucking green but that's not a problem because it brings me joy that I now own a teeny tiny wrench that wraps around my finger

[everythingcollided]

More Than A Fan [Peter Parker]

Request:  Hello beautiful! May I get a Peter x Reader where he’s completely SOFT™️ for her and once she finds out about her best friend being Spidey she can’t help but wear/buy all the Spidey merch available? With fluff and flustered Pete? Love you lots! ❤️

Word Count: 2,153

Warnings: Swearing, slight sorta severe pining 

A/N: I was so excited to write this cause the request was absolutely adorable! Thanks to @beautiful-writings for basically being my beta reader she’s amazing! 

It’s been three days.

Seventy-two hours since she’d wrapped her arms around him in their customary hug, the comforting smell of her shampoo clouding his senses and lulling him into the safety he only ever felt around her, breath puffing right over his heart. It was normal, and Peter never expected it to stop only hours later.

He kept on seeing her face in the rain where she’d caught him maskless under the awning of a shop he couldn’t remember, hair stuck to her cheeks and neck, eyelashes lined with raindrops. She looked as delicate as a flower in the darkness, almost too stunning to be real, and Peter’s guilt clashed with the need to get her someplace warm and dry.

“I need some time,” she’d said, like a knife to his chest.

And then she walked away. Peter had never thought about how much he’d miss those hugs until she wasn’t there to give them.

Three days.

Aunt May kept on asking him if he was alright when he came out of his room with darkness under his eyes and he always said yes because he knew how much she loved her and he couldn’t bear to disappoint another woman in his life with how stupid he had been. She offered up a movie night complete with three bowls of popcorn anyway.

It was on the fourth day, when he’d just finished eating his breakfast, that his phone vibrated.

‘Can you come over?’ the text read, her name written at the top followed by the yellow heart that guaranteed he wasn’t imagining it. She really wanted to see him.

He didn’t even answer, rummaging through his closet for a sweater and barely having it over his head before charging downstairs and unhooking his bike from the rack. He completely zoned out on the ride over, going from muscle memory alone.

He was so scared that she was going to leave him. Maybe five months ago he would’ve been able to handle it; when she was just a girl with pretty eyes and a kickass sense of humor. When she was just his best friend who made his stomach feel weird, who for some reason he couldn’t even see the same as he saw Ned even though they were both equally important to him.

Five months ago he could’ve taken the blow because hey, he’d lost friends before and it hurt for a while but he still had Ned and MJ and they’d do their best to help him forget about her. Five months ago he was helplessly oblivious to the fact that his feelings for her were in no way wholly platonic and that everything she did put hearts in his eyes.

Now, the thought of losing her made Peter feel like he would be blown into thousands of pieces and he wasn’t going to let that happen. She was going to let him explain why he kept his identity from her for so long, and she was going to understand.

She was going to understand.

Peter’s heart is thrashing around his chest, thumping with the beats of his knuckles against the wooden door as he knocks. It’s warmer than he thought outside, or maybe that’s just his body heating up from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He balls the edge of his sleeve into his palm nervously, tapping his feet against the faded welcome! mat, feeling anything but.

The slight creak of the door as it opens sounds loud in his ears and he jumps, eyes darting to the figure in the frame and widening in turn. There she is, the crinkles at the edges of her eyes the first thing he sees and the large t-shirt she wears the second.

It’s bright red, with a cartoon version of Spider-Man swinging across the front. His name is etched down the long sleeves swallowing her arms in bold letters and Peter almost has to squint with the sunlight reflecting off of the material.

“So, question,” she starts casually, rocking on her feet - which are clad in socks that resemble that part of his suit flawlessly - and not at all appearing mad like Peter had expected and prepared for. “You wear boxers, right?”

He’s dazed by her attire and it takes him a moment to realize what she’s just said, cheeks coloring. “Yeah? Yes, I do. Why?”

She nods, ponytail swishing. “Great. Come on.”

And then she’s pulling him by the hand into the house he’s been in so many times he has it memorized, down the long hallway decorated with pictures of her with missing teeth and pigtails, of the two of them with their arms around each other holding participation ribbons at a science fair with gigantic grins, and into the living room.

There are bags littering the carpeted floor as well as the coffee table standing in the middle of the room and the couch. Boxes peak up out of the abyss here and there, tops ripped open and dropping styrofoam peanuts over the ground.

“Shit, I forgot what box they were in,” she mutters, gracefully weaving through the mess. Her shirt rides up as she rummages through a box and Peter spots web designs crawling over her shorts.

“What is all of this?” He finally asks.

“Did you know that Stark Industries owns this whole Spider-Man brand? They have, like, everything.” She’s practically inside of the box now, balancing on one leg as she submerges her limbs in search of...boxers, was it? Her voice echoes against the cardboard and Peter decides to help her before she hurts herself.

He wades through the plastic and moves behind her, pressing a hand to her back to let her know he’s there. She sends him a grateful smile as she moves to give him room. “Mr. Stark didn’t say anything about...a brand?” She hums in confirmation at the questioning edge, Peter’s chest filling with warmth at the thought that Mr. Stark would do such a thing for Spider-Man, for him.

His hands brush against fabric in the sea of green and pink peanuts and he latches onto it. She chuckles at the product. “See, boxers!” Little Spider-Men are swinging around the dark blue background. “I also ordered sweatshirts, shorts, socks, pillows - they have pillows isn’t that cool? I think I got a few bras too.”

Peter flushes at that and sends her an incredulous look. She glances at him, eyes widening when she’s realized what she just said. “I mean, they were available.”

“You bought all of this stuff?”

“Of course.”

Peter feels that little gnawing at his stomach again, the same one he’d felt days ago. He looks around at all of the packages, and the thought of how much money all of it must have cost makes him wince. “Why?”

She furrows her eyebrows, fingers fiddling with the edge of her sleeve in the way she’s always done when wearing long sleeves. “Well, why not?”

Peter runs a hand through his messy hair. “You said you needed time,” he hates how fragile his voice sounds in the quiet room, how easily she gets under his skin. “You haven’t talked to me at all and now you’re acting like everything’s fine and I’m just...really confused?”

She seems to slouch into herself at his words, eyes softening. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth and she takes her time in bringing her gaze to Peter’s. She takes a step forward, a question sparkling in her eyes, and he finds himself nodding. All he’s wanted is for her to be here, to be on good terms with him, and he knew he’d do whatever she needed to get there.

She circles her arms around his waist and lays her head against his chest. Briefly, he wonders if she can hear how fast his heart is beating, but she speaks before he can fully freak out about that. “I’m sorry. It just took a lot of processing. I mean, first I had to deal with the identity thing, and then there’s also the constant worrying I’m going to have to deal with because I know you’re gonna get hurt, you idiot.”

There’s a pause, and her voice lowers.

“I was mad for a bit. Hurt, I guess. That you didn’t tell me. But then I thought about everything you’ve done for me and hated myself for ever thinking about ditching you for saving the world. So, instead of being the worst best friend ever, I decided to hit the internet and get some merchandise so that I could be your biggest fan.”

Peter twirls a piece of her hair around his finger, pulls her tighter against him. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

She lifts her head to look at him, eyes narrowing as she observes the contours of his face. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

He does, but the past three days show something different than that promise and she must see the confliction on his face because she frowns and takes a step back.

She runs her hands over her face and sighs. “Peter, I know what I did, it hurt me too, okay? But I didn’t want to try talking to you when my emotions were all over the place. I could’ve said anything and I wanted to be sure that I wouldn’t dumbly ruin this because I hadn’t given myself enough time to let it sink in.”

“Please understand,” she begs, digging into a ripped bag and producing a shirt identical to her own. “Don’t let our matching shirts go to waste.”

Peter cracks at that, laughing and reaching for the article of clothing. “Seriously?”

Her lips lift in the grin she’s been trying to hold back, shrugging. “It might be a little big, but, yeah. Seriously. We can be Spider-Man’s biggest supporters.”

“Ned’s gonna want one too.”

“I ordered four. Just in case MJ wants one too.”

Peter unfolds it, heart bursting. He should’ve known that she wouldn’t abandon him, that instead, she’d do something like this. She always found ways of sweeping his feet out from under him and leaving him dumbfounded.

All of that guilt and worry from the previous days fizzles into nothing. Peter’s stuck just standing there and staring at his best friend, wondering how he found someone like her that chose to handle him on a daily basis.

“So,” she starts, clutching a white pillow with Spider-Man illustrations to her chest, eyes wide and vulnerable. Peter’s heart skips a beat. “Am I forgiven?”

It’s in that moment that Peter almost crosses the three steps separating them and presses his lips to hers. It’s a quick wave of emotion that’s gone as fast as it came and his stomach sinks a bit when he realizes he has no right to do something like that.

Peter pretends to think over, mostly so that he can get his brain back on the right track and away from her lips. “Did you get sweatpants?”

Her expression morphs into a mix of a smile and agitation. “Yes.”

“Then yeah,” Peter’s face heats in the intensity of her smile. “Just don’t spend this much money on me again.”

“Would I be a proper fan if I didn’t have the merch? I don’t think so.”

“You don't have to have merch to be considered my biggest fan.”

She shrugs and tosses the pillow at his chest. “It’s a bonus.”

He throws it back. “An expensive bonus.”

“Oh, just admit you love me, dork.” She retaliates by hitting him in the shoulder and though it’s harmless, her words catch him off guard.

“I love you,” Peter says, and it’s blurred on a line between best friends and something more and it scares him how close it is to the latter.

But she’s naive to it all, balancing the pillow on top of his head with a smile on her lips that makes him feel like the luckiest person in the world. “That’s more like it.”

She steps back and claps her hands together. “So, you gonna help me unpack or what?”

“You only called me over here to be your slave.”

“No. I called you over here to apologize, and to prove how awesome of a friend I am.” She crosses her arms. “And for you to be my slave.”

Peter blows air out of his nose. “Only because you’re my biggest fan.”

“Can I get you saying that in the suit on video?”

He gives her a look.

She puts her hands up. “Okay, fine. Kidding. Let’s get working, Spider-Boy.”

They work fluidly and have everything stacked in piles soon enough. She nudges him and jokes about them starting a fan page and Peter can’t help but think they’ve made a step towards something. Maybe it’s what he wants it to be towards, or maybe not.

But it’s something.  

[pixxieliv]

100 REASONS WHY OJ IS GUILTY

Nicole’s dog didn’t attack the killer proving that the dog must’ve known and been comfortable with said killer. Akita dogs have an aggressive trait, and if there was an intruder it would’ve attacked.

Nicole’s neighbour said he heard two men arguing and then saw a white van speeding away from the crime scene (could be Ford Bronco).

LAPD found two sets of keys to Nicole’s condo in OJ’s possession. Nicole had stated that a pair of keys to her condo had been missing a few weeks prior to the murders.

Witness Jill Shively saw OJ speeding in the Bronco around the time of the murders.

Expert testimonies have stated that the killer walked from the crime scene, not run, proving him to be familiar enough with the surroundings that he felt safe enough to walk.

At 9:37 PM on the night of the murders, Kato Kaelin who lived in the guesthouse on OJ’s estate, saw OJ leaving in a dark blue cotton sweat suit, the same kind of suit that produced the fibres found on Ron Goldman’s shirt.

Kato heard thumps outside his window by the air conditioning at around 10:50 PM, nearby the bloody glove was found.

Kato testified that at around 11 PM he was loading OJ’s five bags into the limousine for OJ’s trip to Chicago, and was told not to touch the smallest black bag.

It’s believed that the black bag held bloody clothing and the murder weapon (knife). The bag was never seen again.

A week before her death, Nicole told her friend Cici Shahian “He’s going to kill me and get away with it and charm the world because he’s OJ Simpson”.

Her friends Faye Resnick and Robin Grier said Nicole told them OJ was going to kill her.

Nicole told her therapist, Susan Forward, that she thought OJ would murder her.

Limo driver, Allan Park, testified that OJ entered with five bags when he left Rockingham. Skycap James Williams counted only three bags when OJ got out of the car. Simpson was standing by a trash can afterwards; speculations that he stuffed two bags into the trash. Never found missing bags.

In 1982, OJ threw Nicole against a wall. In 87, he shoves her to the ground. 89, he slaps her and pushes her from a moving vehicle.

Nicole wrote a will five weeks before the murders.

Police responded to a 911 call on New Year’s Day, 1989, to find a bruised and bleeding Nicole hiding in the bushes, wearing only a bra and sweatpants, crying. “He’s going to kill me”

Nicole had her sister Denise Brown take pictures of her bruised body, locked them in a safe-deposit box, and tell Denise “I need proof that OJ beat me. Without proof no one will ever believe me. The public thinks he’s a hero who can do no wrong.”

Another 911 call in 1993, Nicole said “When he gets this crazed, I get scared. He gets a very animalistic look in him. His eyes are black, just black, I mean cold like an animal”.

She told Faye Resnick, “I look at his arms and think ‘God, are these going to be the arms that kill me someday?”

OJ admitted to Resnick that he was seeing a therapist for his volatile feelings towards Nicole.

Nicole tells Kato she thought OJ would kill her with scissors.

The murders took place after Nicole rejected OJ’s company at their daughter’s dance recital.

Nicole had a bath ready and burning candles just before her murder. Chris Darden, prosecutor, believes OJ spied on Nicole and saw her getting ready for a rendezvous with someone and killed her in a jealous rage.

DNA evidence proved that five blood drops found near the killer’s footprints at the Bundy murder scene belonged to OJ. 1 in 170 million chance.

DNA evidence showed that OJ’s blood trail from his Bronco to his Rockingham estate included: one blood drop behind the Bronco on the street Rockingham, one on the driveway just inside the Rockingham gate, three more on the driveway leading to the front door of his residence, five on the floor of the foyer, and one on the bathroom floor.

DNA test proved tat the spots of blood on the driver’s door of the Bronco belonged to OJ.

DNA tests proved that three blood stains found on the rear gate of Nicole’s home belonged to OJ.

DNA tests proved that in at least one blood drop found at the Bundy murder scene, the chances of it belonging to anyone other than OJ is 170 million to one.

On blood evidence alone, there’s only one out of 57 billion chance that Simpson is innocent. Fifty-seven billion is approximately 10 times the current population of the world.

At the Bundy scene, OJ’s blood was found at the exact spot where the murders were committed.

Blood on socks in OJ’s bedroom matched his own and Nicole’s.

LAPD found blood in the shower and sink of OJ’s bathroom after the murders.

Tests show that three stains on the Bronco’s console were a mixture between OJ, Nicole, and Ron. Another console stain is a mixture of OJ and Ron’s, and Nicole’s blood was found on the driver’s seat carpet.

DNA from Ron Goldman’s blood was found on the Rockingham glove, 1 out of 21 billion people.

Cellmark, America’s largest private DNA laboratory, ran 11 genetic tests on the blood drops from the crime scene and at OJ’s house and every test matched OJ’s blood.

Fibres on the knit cap found at the murder scene matched material in OJ’s Bronco.

Fibres on the bloody glove found behind OJ’s house matched carpeting in the Bronco.

Forensics confirmed that the fibres found on Ron’s shirt matched what Kato said OJ wore that night.

Hairs found in the knit cap matched OJ’s.

Hair matching OJ’s is found on Ron’s shirt.

A 12-inch hair matching Nicole’s is discovered on the bloody glove.

A bloody glove matching the glove found at the murder scene that was found on OJ's property within hours of the murders contains a hair with the same microscopic characteristics as Ron's and Nicole's.

The killer’s bloody shoe footprints found at the murder scene was a size 12 Bruno Magil show, the same worn by OJ.

OJ denies owning Bruno Magil shoes but photo of OJ from 1993 football game shows him wearing Bruno Magils that match the prints at the murder scene.

GLOBE publishes more photos of OJ wearing those shoes.

FBI agent William Bodziak testified in trial that an area of the bloody shoe print inside the Bronco could have been made from the corner of a Bruno Magil shoe.

Only 299 pairs of these size 12 rare Italian-made Bruno Magil shoes were ever distributed in the US in 1991 and 1992, and were sold in only 40 stores in the entire country. One of which is Bloomingdales in New York, where Simpson was a regular customer during that time period.

The glove at the murder scene and the glove at OJ’s house are both extra large, OJ’s size. Matching right and left.

Both gloves are identical to the type Nicole bought for OJ at Bloomingdales in December of 1990, one of only two hundred pairs like them sold through out the whole country that year. Prosecutors found the receipt.

On the night of the murders, OJ cut the knuckle on his left middle finger. Investigators determine the murderer is cut on the same side based on the blood drops found immediately to the left of the killer’s shoe print.

When asked by LAPD how he cut his finger he first said, “I don’t know.” Then he said he cut it in Chicago and immediately afterward said he reopened the cut in Chicago, admitting that he cut himself in LA.

Defence attorney said OJ’s blood found at the murder scene came from a previous visit to the condo.

When LAPD arrested OJ he had three other cuts besides the deep wound on his finger and seven abrasions.

OJ didn’t ask any questions when notified about his ex-wife’s murder when LAPD notified him. Not even about how she was killed.

He didn’t ask about the safety of his two youngest children after he’s told his ex-wife was murdered at her home.

OJ complained about the heat and sweats during his limo drive to LA airport, even though the weather was cool and there was air conditioning.

Flight attendant Beverly Deteresa, said OJ chugged glasses of water and went to the bathroom every 15 minutes throughout the flight.

OJ does not shed one tear during his first interview about the murder.

He spends less than a minute at Nicole’s grave during his first visit.

OJ promised to hunt down the killer of Nicole and Ron, but when private investigators offered their services for free, he refused.

OJ expressed no surprise when LAPD told him he’s a suspect.

Photos showing OJ holding a gun to his head during the speed chase.

OJ wrote a suicide note that is read after the escape of his arrest on June 17, 1994. His best friend Robert Kardashian, had the notepad that matched the paper the note was written on on June 15. It expressed guilt.

Cellular phone records placed OJ in the Bronco at 10:03 PM, minutes before the murders.

The Bronco is parked at a haphazard angel in front of his house the night of the murders.

OJ flees from cops on June 17, 1994 in AC Cowling’s Bronco.

Jennifer Peace, AC’s girlfriend, tells the grand jury that AC admitted OJ was heading to Mexico in the Bronco.

After OJ’s arrest, LAPD found in his possession a passport, a gun, a fake moustache and a beard, and fresh changes of underwear in the Bronco.

LAPD found $8750 in Ac’s possession after the Bronco chase. OJ told him to carry the money.

A receipt in the Bronco shows OJ purchased the moustache and beard on May 27, 1994. Two weeks before the murders.

Denise Brown testified her reaction to her sister’s death as, “He killed her. He always said he would kill her”.

Juditha Brown said OJ threatened to kill the Brown family in 1979 if Nicole left him.

Juditha said after the divorce in 1992, OJ became very neurotic and phoned his former mother-in-law six times a day to tell her how upset he was about the split.

Two plastic bags were missing from the hotel room in Chicago where OJ stayed.

A broken glass is found in OJ’s hotel room the day after the murders. He claims thats how he reopened his cut after hearing the news of her murder, no blood found on the glass.

Defence witness Dr. Robert Huizenga, team physician at the time for the LA Raiders, was called to stand in the trial to establish that OJ’s arthritis would have prevented him from committing the murders. He conceded on cross-examination that OJ was physically capable of committing the murders.

Within the day of the murders, OJ only doesn’t have an alibi for the hour of the murders. He says he was home alone.

Defence attorney Johnnie Cochran tells the jury that OJ was hitting golf balls at the time the murders happened, while OJ tells the limo driver he was napping.

When OJ was late for his limo, he told the driver he overslept. The driver saw a 6 ft 2 figure dressed in all black weighing 200 pounds walk into the entrance of OJ’s home at the time OJ said he was sleeping.

Driver said he saw this figure at the same time he saw Kato walking around with a flashlight after hearing noises outside of his house, the figure was coming from the direction of where Kato heard the noises.

Limo driver Park said he rang OJ’s buzzer for 20 minutes without a reply, after the figure entered the home, OJ answered the buzzer.

An expert testified the bloody gloves would have fit OJ except the blood and moisture caused the extra-large gloves to shrink a full size.

OJ claimed he couldn’t have murdered anyone due to his old football injuries, but after the murders, he made an exercise video and went golfing regularly.

OJ’s son, Jason, admits he thought his father was guilty.

OJ says the blood found at the scene came from times when he played with his children before, but the drops are close to the bloody footprints leading from the bodies.

Experts say the murders are consistent with a rage killing. There was no sign of a break-in or a burglary at the murder scene.

In 60% of all domestic murder cases, the killer either beats his victim, strangles, stabs or slashes the victim’s throat.

Jennifer Peace said AC told her the knife “sleeps with the fishes”.

Friends say OJ knew Nicole’s biggest fear was to be killed with a knife.

Nicole’s mother, Juditha Brown, heard OJ saying “I loved you too much” over Nicole’s casket.

Friends said OJ told Nicole, “If I can’t have you, no one else can”.

Prosecutor Chris Darden claimed OJ told a friend the night of the murders “I’m going to get her. I’m going to teach her a lesson”.

Ron Shipp said OJ told him he had dreams about killing Nicole.

Jennifer Peace said she heard OJ crying “I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way”.

GLOBE discover OJ took a polygraph test before the trial and scored a minus 20, meaning he was lying.

Prison guard Jeff Stuart swears he overheard OJ telling minister Rosey Grier that “I didn’t mean to do it. I’m sorry.”

After he was acquitted, he threw a rage.

Afterwards he tried to have a pay-per-view special.

He wrote a book called “if I did it”…

Then made a tv special called If I Did It.

[astagfirullah-house]

Spies-HiraMin

Bano traced the knife, strapped to her thigh beneath the dress, with her finger. She could feel Jungkook's gaze on her and it was getting annoying. She pictured taking that knife out and stabbing him with it.

"What?" She finally gave up and asked him with a scowl on her face.

"You look hot." He said smugly, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back. It made his biceps pop out underneath his tight suit.

You don't look too bad yourself. Bano thought. But out loud she just grunted and looked away with a disgusted expression. Hot as Jungkook was, he was also annoying as hell with his overconfidence and cockiness. When she was told she was going on an undercover mission with him she all but begged their bosses to change her partner or get her off the mission. But they insisted that both of them were the perfect pick. And admonished her for her "unprofessional attitude".

The long, tortuous limo ride finally ended as they reached the huge hall hosting the gala. There was a line of fancy expensive cars in front of them as they stopped in front of the red carpet for celebrities, models and the likes to step out in their designer clothes and pose for pictures.

"Okay, let's go over the plan once." Jungkook said, suddenly serious. He was fixing his cuffs, straightening out any creases in his suit and Bano became self conscious. Did she look okay?

"As soon as we enter we need to spot Jung and keep our eyes on him." Jungkook continued. "You will go flirt with him, keep him occupied, and I'll do the rest. Easy enough."

Bano clenched, irritated by Jungkook's self-assured tone and cocky grin. She wanted to argue that Jungkook should be the one keeping him occupied and she should go steal the files but she knew she wouldn't be able to put up a good argument. She almost wished Jung preferred men.

They finally reached the entrance and it was their turn to get out on the red carpet and pose. Bano froze, suddenly scared. Undercover work she could do, but to be exposed like this? Hundreds of people taking your picture, documenting your every move. She felt her heart beating fast and a sweat broke out on her forehead.

Jungkook got out of the car then held his hand out to help Bano out. Bano looked at his hand then up at his face, her face probably pale, eyes wide. Something in Jungkook's face changed, it softened as he extended his hand further and said, "It's okay, just pretend like you're somebody else. We're undercover, remember?"

Bano was taken aback by Jungkook's gentle tone. She had not expected him to be... Nice. And his words had worked too because Bano felt herself relax a little as she held Jungkook's hand and slid across the limo seat to get out the door. The camera flashes blinded her eyes as they stood on the red carpet. Jungkook took the hand he had been holding and placed it in the crook of his elbow. "Smile princess, gotta look good for the cameras." Jungkook smirked and walked forward, forcing her to walk with him. And there he was back again, the cocky jerk.

It seemed like it took forever to walk the length of the carpet up the stairs and into the hall but Bano let out a relieved sigh when they finally reached inside. The hall was extravagant with it's elaborate glass chandelier, silk drapes along the wall, tables full of exotic food lining those walls. A quick scan of the crowd showed that Jung wasn't there yet though the hall was filled enough to indicate that most guests were.

"He must be signing the deal in the hotel room." Jungkook voiced her thoughts as he jerked his head towards a door on the side which she knew lead to the lobby which led to the hotel rooms. Their informants had told them that Jung would be making the deal to trasfer all the money raised in the gala towards his underground casino business. Bano's lips turned down in disgust as she thought of how Jung was using these people's money, money they were supposedly donating for cancer patients, to fund his illegal activities. And this wasn't even the worst of his crimes. Once they got a hold of those files and arrest him for this they could work on exposing more of his sins. Then finally he'll get what he deserved.

Hand still on Jungkook's arm, Jungkook steered Bano down the hall. They mostly kept to themselves, picking up an occasional hors d'oeuvre from a passing waiter's tray but kept their eyes glued to the door, waiting for Jung to make his entrance.

After about 30 minutes the door swung open to show Jung's obese body and graying hair. A scary looking bodyguard followed him and placed himself beside the door. Good, at least he won't be breathing down my neck, Bano thought. But how will Jungkook get to the rooms now? It seemed the bodyguard was guarding the door.

"Don't worry, I'll think of something." Jungkook said, reading the worry on Bano's face.

"Let's get the show on the road. Time to work your charm, princess." With that Jungkook disappeared into the crowd and Bano made her way towards Jung.

~

Jungkook checked his gun in the holster under his jacket. Good thing they weren't searched on their way in. He hoped he didn't have to use the gun today but you never know.

It had been ten minutes since he had left Bano. She was standing with Jung now, laughing shyly with her hand in front of her face, batting her eyes. Jungkook's stomach did a flip. Damn, she's too pretty for her own good, Jungkook thought. But that's not what had caught Jungkook's attention. Bano was smart, smarter than most men he worked with. She was a few years younger than him but she worked the same level and it was her hardwork and talent that had gotten her there. Most people were jealous of her, accusing her of using favors, but he knew she deserved her position.

Jung's arm went around Bano's waist and Jungkook tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest. Jung seemed to be ensnared enough so now it was time for Jungkook to start his end of the plan. He bended over and clutched his stomach, shuffling to the door. Just as expected, the burly bodyguard blocked his path.

"You are not allowed to go in there." He boomed, towering over Jungkook's 5'10''.

"Please man, I gotta go to the bathroom." Jungkook whined.

"The bathrooms are over there." The man pointed across the hall.

"They're filled and I really gotta go! Please hurry!" Jungkook groaned and bent over a bit more. He wasn't sure how good his acting was but the bodyguard considered it and glanced over in Jung's direction. He must have bought into Jungkook's story because he stepped aside and opened the door for Jungkook to pass. Jungkook shuffled through, continuing with the act and silently thanking his parents for giving him an innocent looking face.

Jungkook made to go towards the ground floor bathrooms but as soon as the door closed behind him he ran up the stairs. According to their information the meeting had been in a room on the second floor so Jungkook decided that taking the stairs would be faster. He reached the room in 3 minutes but cursed when he saw that Jung had left another guard in front of the room. Of course he had, he wouldn't leave such important documents unguarded. 

Guess I'll have to do things the hard way after all, Jungkook thought to himself as he walked towards the guard, trying to look nonchalant as to not alert the guard. The guard still straightened up, eyeing Jungkook, but when Jungkook kicked him hard against the door, he had not seen it coming and he sunk to his knees.

Jungkook grabbed his neck, trying to render him unconscious, but he was too big and Jungkook lost his grip when the man grabbed Jungkook's waist and tackled him to the ground. Before the guard could climb on Jungkook, Jungkook rolled away and quickly got up, twisting to kick the man's face. Judging by the crunching sound that came, he had broken something. Before the man could get his bearings back, Jungkook hit him on the head and he slumped on the ground. Jungkook waited, his breathing labored, for him to get back up again but it seemed like he was out cold.

Thankfully their fighting hadn't been too noisy because no one came to the hallway. Jungkook moved towards the vase kept by the door and pushed it back to find the card key underneath, right where Yoongi had told him he had kept this morning. He took the card key and opened the door, carefully stepping in and closing the door behind him. He tiptoed inside, expecting another guard, but as luck would have it the room was empty.

Now to find the files. He checked the obvious places first, the table, the drawers, the cupboards, but of course Jung wouldn't keep such important files there. Jungkook was searching through the bathroom when his phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out and picked up the call.

"Jung is going up!" Bano whisper-shouted.

"What do you mean 'he's going up'?" Jungkook asked, his heart picking up speed.

"I mean he's coming your way you idiot." The anxiety was obvious in Bano's voice. "Did you find the files yet?"

"No, I'm looking for them" Jungkook replied, continuing his search.

"Well look for them faster or you're a dead man! That guard came up to Jung, told him about you and how you hadn't returned and weren't in the bathroom. I tried to seduce Jung but apparently the files are more important than a pretty girl." Jungkook could imagine Bano's eye-roll at this and he chuckled.

"This isn't funny Jungkook, they'll be up there any minute now." Bano said seriously.

Jungkook stood in the middle of the room, at a loss as to where to look when his eyes fell on the mini fridge at one corner of the room. He crossed the room and opened the fridge to find a bottle of champagne and behind that the unmistakable white plastic of a file.

"I found it!" He said into the phone as he took it out and checked the contents. It was all the evidence they needed against Jung.

Just as Jungkook turned around to leave, he heard voices outside the door, one of which seemed to be Jung's.

"Shit, they're here! I gotta go. Meet me in the car." He told Bano and ended the call, keeping the phone and papers in his inside pocket. He looked around for a way out but the only other exit was the window.

Well a two-story fall wouldn't be that bad. Jungkook hoped as he climbed out the window and onto the thin slab below. If he jumped right then he could go from slab to slab all the way down to the pavement. If he were lucky enough to not slip and fall.

He made his way down, hoping Jung wouldn't catch him before he had a chance to get away. Just as he reached the last slab, his heart hammering in his chest, he heard a voice from above. He looked up to see one of Jung's lackeys leaning out the window.

"Sir, there he is!" He said to someone behind him.

Now all Jungkook had to do was jump to the pavement and run to the alley where Bano would be waiting in the car. But it was quite a big fall. Enough to break his legs if the angle wasn't right. But Jung's men were probably on their way down so it was now or never.

Jungkook counted down to 3 and jumped, angling himself to land on his feet. A sharp pain went from his ankle up his leg as he landed and he screamed in pain, unable to stop himself. The pain was so unbearable that he sat there with his eyes closed and teeth clenched, unable to move.

A pair of arms went around his chest, trying to get him up and he was sure now he was done for it. Jung's men would torture him in the worst of ways. This was the end for him.

"This isn't the end for you idiot, the car is right there. We just gotta get to it before Jung's men get here." Bano's voice came through the chaos in his head and he opened his eyes to see her struggling to get him upright. Despite his protesting ankle he pushed himself up and together they shuffled towards the car.

Bano pushed Jungkook into the passenger seat before running around and getting into the driver seat herself. She turned on the engine and raced down the road just as Jung's men burst through the door making their way towards them. When they were far away from the building, enough to be considered safe, Jungkook sank back against the seat wincing in pain.

"I thought I told you to meet me in the car." Jungkook said to Bano.

"Well I knew you'd try something stupid like this so lucky for you I brought the car out front and saved your ass." Bano answered haughtily and Jungkook laughed.

"Well it was either this or fight my way through Jung's men. I prefer breaking my ankle to fighting men twice my size, thank you very much." Jungkook answered then winced again. The pain wasn't as bad as before but a new wave seemed to course through at the slightest of movement.

"Let's go to the hospital first." Bano said, glancing towards Jungkook, concern evident in her voice and eyes.

"I'll call Namjoon to come to the hospital to collect the files." She paused. "You have the files, don't you?"

Jungkook took the papers out of his pocket. "Yeah, I have them right here." He waved them in his hand. He wanted to protest about going to the hospital first and tell her to go straight to the office but the pain in his ankle shut him up.

"Also, are you actually concerned? About me?" Jungkook said in mock-surprise then smirked, earning a disgusted groan from Bano. He laughed again, thinking to himself how awesome it would be to work with Bano again. They made a good team.