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#bts mafia au
btsmosphere · a day ago
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hello :DD i saw your drabble game was up and i just couldn’t resist!!
may i ask for jungkook x reader ( she / her prns or gender neutral!), mafia/gang au, e2l, treating an injury and “what happened to you?” “where did you get that?”
thank you so much! i love your work and can’t wait to see what you do with this if you choose to work on it! <33
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~summary: Close enough to touch, far enough never to dare. But Jungkook knows you well enough to know something isn’t right. And that locket the new player is wearing? Isn’t his. Will this be what it takes to break the distance you keep with Jungkook? ~pairing: jungkook x reader ~angst, fluff, comfort, enemies to lovers, mafia!au ~word count: 3k ~rating: pg13 ~warnings: violence, alcohol, blood, injury
~a/n: thank you!! you’re so sweet🥰 I’m sorry this has taken more than a week since the last request I posted but as you can see, it’s also longer than a drabble! srsly, the moment I saw this one in my inbox, I was thrilled. it’s like this prompt was made for me haha. the biggest problem I had was not making it too much like Flame on Water, but I’m pleased with what I came up with! I hope you enjoy it too!💜
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Jungkook’s eyes flitted in your direction the moment you walked in.
The bar was dark, filled with people, but it was like he could sense you in spite of the hum of chatter and low music fighting for his attention in this atmosphere. Fingers circling the rim of his glass, he eyed you as you crossed the threshold.
Your little acquaintance with Jungkook began some time ago. But there had been no friendly introductions; you had had a knife to the throat of one of his members and the next thing you knew, you were being pressed against the ground with Jungkook at your back.
Over time, you had proved to be quite a match for each other. Just as your gangs skirted around each other, testing boundaries, winning and losing skirmishes for territory, the two of you were seemingly in orbit of the other. One way or another, you would always end up toe to toe, a constant challenge – or, perhaps, annoyance – to the other.
Tonight may be no different. Your eyes locked as you passed his table. Always close enough to touch, but too wise to move until the time was right.
In your line of work, you had to settle for a cool distance with the enemy. After all, you knew that while you were capable of taking him down, the opposite was also true. And either action would invite more conflict that your gangs’ tentative hostility could bear.
You approached and Jungkook sat back, anticipating your arrival. Neither of you would dare make a move in here, you knew that. But it was always fun to flirt with danger.
His smirk grew, a brow cocked as he waited for you to bite first. A simple ‘what are you looking at, Jeon?’ was enough for a spark.
Instead, your expression darkened.
“Not tonight, Jeon.”
Without even staying to hear a response, you kept your head down and moved past.
Jungkook frowned, leaning forwards to catch a glimpse of you, melting into the hubbub of this bar. Something was off.
For the brief moment he could, he scanned your form. He could be imagining it, but were you limping? If you were, you hid it well. In any case, you were gone too soon for him to be sure.
Still, his eyes lingered. He swallowed down a growing unease. This wasn’t like you – but then, why should that mean anything to him? Better still, he should revel in this. To have you in such a sour mood, something must have happened in favour of his gang. And at the expense of you.
He pretended that made him feel better.
But Jungkook had no time to spare thinking of you. Why he would ever want to was a concern in itself.
He was here for a reason. And that reason was crossing to the bar right now.
The man was alone, but Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough to rule out the possibility of anyone keeping an eye from the crowd. This was a new player in town, Ilwoon, but wasn’t someone Namjoon was keen to put in the ground straight away. He was clearly smart, having gained connections before trying to emerge as a powerful figure.
Jungkook had been given instructions for a hassle-free discussion and deal, but he took that with a pinch of salt. They didn’t know much about this guy, and it was Jungkook’s job to show him they weren’t going to be pushed around easily.
Still, he approached with a decidedly cool exterior, letting nothing slip in his expression.
“Two Manhattans.” The order confirmed to Jungkook that this was in fact the right man. His voice was rough, a contrast to the fine trimmed haircut he sported.
Allowing a cordial smile onto his face, Jungkook seated himself beside the newcomer while the bartender busied herself.
“Nice evening,” Jungkook muttered off-hand, “busy.”
Ilwoon bristled, clearly not sure what to make of the smalltalk. But a moment later, a smile bloomed on his face. Jungkook didn’t like it at all, but made sure not to flinch.
“Good place to end a long day,” the man said.
Their drinks slid across the counter, Jungkook watching the other take a sip first, taking note of the way his dark eyes crawled over the occupants of the bar. Like he owned the lot.
Taking a sip too, Jungkook could pass the disgusted curl of his lips off as a response to the burn of alcohol. About to resign himself to a tense but necessary conversation, he turned his eyes back to his drinking partner.
Jungkook’s hand tightened around his glass, not lowering it to the tabletop. Frozen, he stared.
Ilwoon lowered his arm, revealing a charming red pendant which was just visible around his shirt buttons. Finishing his own drink, the man noticed Jungkook’s staring and frowned, shifting in his seat. A small flash of red bounced from the jewel at the movement.
It was beautiful. Jungkook had always thought so. But that was just the problem.
“That isn’t yours.”
Raising his eyes fractionally, Jungkook finally met the man’s gaze with steel in his own.
Quirking a brow, that same repulsive smile flitted onto Ilwoon’s face.
“Told you I’d been having fun in this town,” the man shrugged, “now, shall we talk?”
Fast as a whip, Jungkook had sent his chair clattering to the floor as he sprung at the man, grabbing him roughly by his collar and sending him colliding with the bar.
Any previous noise dissipated, silence shooting through crowd place like a wave.
Jungkook didn’t even break the man’s gaze. One of the glasses slowly rolled off the table, smashed loudly on the floor.
No one moved.
Holding his stance, Jungkook’s only move was to tighten his grip, drawing closer to the man.
“For someone in your position, I would think you’d want to play nice,” he hissed.
Despite the way his feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor and his breath grew shallower, the other man narrowed his eyes, spitting back with vitriol.
“No honour among thieves, I thought. This shouldn’t be your concern.”
“You’re going to tell me who is and isn’t my concern?” Jungkook all but yelled, shaking him.
“I never touched one of yours!”
“They don’t belong to you either,” Jungkook growled. His spare hand reached up, just below the one holding his foe, to grab the locket.
It was true that it was nothing to do with bangtan. That his actions now would spark rumours of some weakness, some compromise. That he need not be interested in the fate of anyone other than the boys he called family.
But Jungkook didn’t recall seeing this around your neck earlier.
He tore it off. Releasing the man and leaving him panting, leaning against the counter, he stalked away without looking back.
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The thin metal chain felt heavy in Jungkook’s fist.
Falling fast and heavy, his shoes clattered up the stairs. If Ilwoon had any sense, he would be long gone already, but he was a long way down Jungkook’s list right now.
The bouncer nodded him through instantly, Jungkook not even sparing time to look at her.
While this bar was supposed to be a neutral place for gangs (something he would certainly have to explain if the owner got wind of his little stunt downstairs), many of them frequented the place. With the absence of violence came somewhere for meetings, perhaps the only spot this side of bangtan’s territory where Jungkook could brush shoulders with enemies without trading blows.
At the moment, he was rather closer to shoving them as he carved a path through the crowd. The top floor was solely for those in his… profession. He had no doubt you had been heading here when he saw you earlier.
Emerging from the dense group by the bar, he quickly scanned the tables, ruling each one out.
Chewing his cheek, he exhaled harshly through his nose, turning his head erratically. You were nowhere in sight.
There was only one place left.
Walking purposefully past the tables, he pushed through another door. The bathrooms were here, four gender neutral ones lining the corridor.
Toeing open the nearest, he peered inside. It was empty, as was the lockable cubicle inside. Crossing the hall in one stride, he tried the next with the same results. The third, however-
You eyes snapped up, meeting his in the mirror just before you whirled around with a gasp, straightening your top.
Jungkook’s brow creased, gaze lingering even though you were now totally covered by your turtleneck. Once again, it had been too quick to be sure, but-
“What happened to you?”
Jungkook’s intense gaze met yours as he stepped inside, the door falling closed behind him. He didn’t miss your guarded stance, the way your eyes flickered to the exit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jeon,” you replied tersely.
Turning back to the mirror, you leaned over the sink to make a show of inspecting your hair. As if you couldn’t care less about his invasion.
But much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook may know you more than most people. Despite your… situation, it was hard to keep secrets and emotions at bay when your lives revolved around pushing the other, whether it be in a physical fight or in tactical play. Even those in your own circle were kept at a further distance. Trust wasn’t exactly an abundant resource in your world.
You just hoped the amount of times Jungkook had seen you hurt, sometimes from his own doing, wouldn’t pay off now. You knew he was still watching you.
He ground his teeth, then looked down at something.
“What’s this then?”
Turning back to him in irritation, you opened your mouth, only to freeze like that when you saw the pendant dangling from his fingers. Your father had given you that, a symbol of your belonging to his empire just before he died. While many of his members believed you weren’t fit to be with them, it reminded you they wrong.
You always wore it.
Until…
“Where did you get that?”
“What happened to you?”
Jungkook repeated his question rapidly in response to your own. All it prompted was more silence. But he had watched your unbothered air crack in front of him the moment he showed you the locket – something was wrong.
“Listen, Jungkook,” you spoke low, trying not to betray your shaking voice, “I’ve had quite enough for today. If you want to add to that, go ahead. Just tell the cleaners on your way out.”
Your words jarred Jungkook. Reminded him of all the reasons you would expect him to be here, and with good reason. A startling realisation of how far his feelings seemed to have strayed from the familiarity of your rivalry.
He took a breath, horrified. Expecting you to laugh any second, or even kick him in the face.
But you just waited.
“What did he do to you?” he pressed, taking a step.
He jolted to a stop the next second when you actually stepped away from him, backing against the sink.
“You know Ilwoon?”
“I hate the bastard, but yes,” Jungkook spoke through gritted teeth, “care to tell me why he had this?”
You rolled your eyes.
“What do you think?”
“Is it the reason there’s blood in the sink?”
“Well done, Sherlock,” you bit, “don’t you think you could save your gloating for later?”
“He hurt you.”
You smirked drily.
“Are you just bitter because you never managed?”
He stared in disbelief. How were joking about this?
You still stared defiantly up at him, arms folded over your chest.
His next words came as little more than a breath.
“Let me see.”
You didn’t move.
“I’m sorry?”
He cleared his throat, suddenly hesitant to meet your eyes.
“Let- let me see. I can help.”
You were silent for so long that Jungkook looked back up at you, finding you still staring at him like he was crazy.
Perhaps he was.
But eventually, you dropped your arms and stepped to one side with a soft huff.
Stepping forward, Jungkook laid the necklace quietly on the counter before reaching out. Just before his fingers touched the hem of the fabric, he looked back up for confirmation.
You took a breath. Somehow, this didn’t feel as strange as it should.
A small nod from you, and he gently lifted the material, a crease emerging between his brows.
Chewing your lip, you looked away. Still, you couldn’t help eyeing the damage in the mirror beside you. The wound wasn’t of too much concern, but the blood was certainly a sight to behold. Your cleaning had done nothing to improve it.
A slash ran across your side. He had poor aim, the knife striking your ribs which had deflected it, extending the cut around your side where it was hard for you to reach without having to contort and receive a warning blast of pain from the injured spot.
You couldn’t help the hiss that left you when Jungkook’s fingers brushed against it. Withdrawing instantly, he looked back to you.
“Sorry, go ahead,” you muttered, averting your eyes again.
Still, when he turned on the tap to wet his hand, it returned cautiously, barely touching if he could help it. For the odd time he aggravated the wound, you simply bit your tongue.
Turning your eyes towards yourself in the mirror, you watched blankly. What should have been the most bizarre scene felt all too easy. Jungkook’s gaze remained focussed, fixed on his hands as they were painted red with your blood before it swirled away down the drain.
His hands left you then, prompting you to whip around in panic. Where was he going?
All you were met with was a low chuckle, a lopsided smile falling onto Jungkook’s lips. He stayed where he was, shrugging off his jacket.
“What are you-?”
Your question died on your lips as he bunched it up, bending slightly to tend to your wound again. Lost for words, you simply raised your arm slightly to give him better access as he pressed the fabric against your side.
Part of you felt bad for what was clearly an expensive jacket – the material wasn’t scratchy at all, barely irritating your injury.
“It should be treated properly,” he said.
“I’ll live.”
“I don’t doubt it. But… you’ll have someone look at it, right?”
You quirked a brow at him.
“So you can give me another one next week?”
“Of course not!”
His exclamation took you by surprise. Apparently, it did the same to him, both of you blinking at each other in the following quiet.
He sighed roughly, looking down to his shifting feet for a moment.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Why would I do that?”
Your protest was weak and you knew it. Your voice came out tired. The care Jungkook had just showed you left you caving to the very thing you had always tried to resist. But after today’s events, you just wanted to let your guard down and tell someone.
He didn’t even have to say anything else. You sighed, leaned back against the counter.
“The new guy wanted to meet up, talk business with our gang. I didn’t turn up expecting anything, but the moment he saw they sent me, he seemed to take that as a sign of weakness. Not a word of business, just him being a creep until he attacked me when I wasn’t having it.”
Kicking the tiled floor as you spoke, a bitter scowl took over your face. You were more than capable of taking on/quick enough to take on this stupid newbie, but the knife had really taken you by surprise.
“I shouldn’t have even given him the chance,” you cursed, “but when this happened, it threw me enough for him to grab me. He seemed to enjoy it. Like that necklace was a bleeding trophy.”
Jungkook’s expression of hatred mirrored your own.
When your eyes fell on the jewellery sitting on the side, his followed. Saying nothing, he reached for it, stepped behind you.
Instinctively, you turned, meeting his eyes as he came behind you in the mirror. The necklace glinted innocently in the light as he raised it above your head, fastening it out of sight at the nape of your neck.
His fingers only grazed your skin as he pulled away. And if he saw the bruises on your neck, he said nothing about them. He knew all too well how humiliating it could be to come out this side of what should have been an easy fight.
“He wanted discussions with bangtan as well,” Jungkook said, as if it was the most innocent thing in the world.
But his smirk in the mirror ignited hope in you again.
Spinning around to face him, you pretended not to notice just how close this brought you to Jungkook. You were no stranger to being a breath away from him, but it was a different experience now you weren’t trying to attack each other.
“You mean he’s been in contact with both of us?”
“Would have thought he’d be smart enough to know not to get between enemies. When our bosses find out he wants to play us like this I don’t think they’ll be too happy, do you?”
Like falling into your magnetic pull, Jungkook shifted closer still. A smirk was growing over your features, eyes glinting in the light.
Your gaze dropped slightly, a finger coming to rest on his chest. Looking up at him, you tilted your head playfully. This confidence fit you much better, more familiar than the weakness Ilwoon had inflicted on you.
“And what about how we found out?”
“I don’t think that should be of concern when he’s running for his life.”
And you fell together at last, all that time you had spent fighting fading in the work of an instant. The tongue that loved to cut you down now tasted so sweet as you indulged in his lips at last. How you had ever been able to resist, you didn’t know.
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Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts💜
For more mafia fun (and other stuff too!), here’s my masterlist
Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @un2-verse 
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sinnertae · a day ago
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Mafia!Taehyung - Unavailable
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A/N: The ending is meh...
Another night that she has spent alone in the king-sized bed, that was meant to be shared with her boyfriend. She rolled from one side to the other, trying to find a perfect position to fall asleep, but it seemed impossible to do it without the warmth of the other body. Without strong, slender arms hugging her waist.
She sat up, throwing off the covers she was covered with. It was too late to start working again, even though the laptop looked tempting. A nagging voice in the back of her head was enumerating all those things she still has to do.
She tried calling him, but every called ended up being directed to the voice mail. Her chest was becoming smaller with each breath she takes. The panic attack was slowly kicking in.
It didn't take her long to give in to the voice. She unlocked her laptop, as tears of overwhelm began running down her cheeks. Her fingers worked swiftly over the touchpad as she closed the open files, leaving only the empty, white page in which she started to write.
Do you ever feel like there is too much happening in your life? Like, there are too many problems, and you are standing there alone, facing them day by day? When your motivation disappears, and you want to give up on your dreams for the sake of these problems to vanish. I feel like it right now. It's 1:40am and all I am able to think is that if I do not fail right now, I will disappoint everyone. Right now I just want to grab the car keys and drive to the one spot in the world where I feel the safest, in which I don't feel as lonely as I do here, in this house. Guess you will not even notice that I am not here anymore.
She wiped here eyes, deciding to delete the last sentence. There was no point in making Taehyung feel guilty. It is not his fault that his work is keeping him busy. That's the price she pays for her and his safety.
Without hesitation, she's got out of the bed, leaving the laptop open on the bed. She changed her clothes and went straight to the garage holding keys tightly in her hand.
The roads were empty, and there was nothing on it, but something managed to startle her enough to make her lead the speeding car directly into the tree, when she twisted the wheel.
Masterlist
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smasmashie · a month ago
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Masterlist ✨
Buyers Beware: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Summary: AU where whatever you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate’s too. Except when all seven members of BTS happen to be your soulmate… well, that presents a small challenge. Legally speaking.
Tags: Soulmate AU, fluff, comedy, possessiveness, polyamory, fluff, domestic bliss, slow burn, chaotic bts, chaotically whipped bts, moderately paced self-indulgent brainrot
🔞 House of Serpents: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Summary: Straight-A student by day, Kim Namjoon’s personal toy by night, you didn’t live a terrible life. At least not until you met his six equally depraved “friends.”
Tags: Mafia AU, PWP with some plot, shameless smut, sugar daddy, possessive behavior, power imbalance, dub con, oral, overstimulation, moral bankruptcy, 5-way betrayal, yandere jimin, yandere jungkook, morally ambiguous characters
Discussion
No Relation to Morals: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Summary: You are a genius, a billionaire, a morally flexible business magnate And by absolutely no fault of your own, also roommates with a demon. A few demon(s).
Tags: Demon AU, Soulmate AU, eventual smut, fluff, domestic bliss, polyamory, slow burn (demonically), overprotective BTS, chaotically whipped BTS, demonically petty BTS
Bang & Burn: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Summary: After a few unfortunate run-ins with your bike, elite espionage agency BTS decides to flag you as "capture or kill". Or fuck. Or marry. (Terms and conditions will probably apply.)
Tags: Spy/assassins AU, slow burn, eventual smut, annoying namjoon into apoplexy, chaotically armed BTS, intense pettiness, friends to enemies to lovers, morally ambiguous character, chaotically whipped bts, polyamory
Day in the Life: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
Pairing: Hyung line x reader
Summary: You have seven kids. Four husbands and three toddlers. So yeah, seven kids.
Tags: family AU, domestic fluff, EXTREME domestic bliss, seokjin is in a constant state of stress and overwhelming fondness, polyamory, protectiveness, established relationship, crack, slow burn
✨✨ One-Shots:
🔞 Combative [Assassins AU, Jungkook]: Fuck Jungkook or die. That’s it. That’s the story. #sex pollen #fuck or die #enemies to enemies
🔞 Captive [Corporate AU, Namjoon]: You’ve got your shit together. Smart, sharp, god complex. And then Managing Director Kim Namjoon decides to take you down a couple pegs. #namjoon has a humongous dick #AU where namjoon has a driver’s license. → discussion
🔞 Entrapment [College AU, Jungkook]: Jeon Jungkook doesn’t seem like the sharpest tool in the shed, but that doesn’t preclude him from having plenty to teach you. #strangers to enemies #jungkook has a horse cock
🔞 Perverse [Soulmate AU, Namjoon]: You can hear Billboard Singer Kim Namjoon's thoughts. This is something of a problem. Especially as most of them are about your ass. #overstimulation #edging #orgasm control #literally
🔞 Tightrope [Mafia AU, Rap line]: You run logistics for three of Korea's biggest crime lords. Sometimes, this translates into the three of them domming the absolute shit out of you. #is rapline trying to kill you or woo you #read to find out #brat taming
🔞 Obliged [Royalty AU, Maknae line]: Three emperors are in need of a prince. Sadly, you're the last woman alive. #breeding kink #maknae line plays 4D chess
🔞 Possess [Magic AU, Seokjin]: As a prank, upperclassman Kim Seokjin tries to spike your drink with an aphrodisiac. To retaliate, you spike his with a truth serum. Tired of all the squabbling, Professor Min switches your drinks. #enemies to lovers #just kidding it’s enemies to enemies #sex pollen
🔞 Entanglement [ABO, OT7]: Don't go into the forest, they said. Don't feed the wolves, they said. Definitely not during mating season, they said. (OT7) #stuck in the wall #gang bang #marathon sex #obviously #somnophilia
🔞 Wicked [Pornstar AU, Jungkook]: You think you can best the greediest fuckboy in the game? No, amateur. You can’t. #lovers to enemies #jungkook has a big dick #jungkook is a big dick #lovers to enemies
Hexed [Guardian Angel AU, Jimin]: As punishment for excessive tardiness, you’re sent to earth to babysit some singer or another. No one thought to mention said singer is the devil incarnate. #jimin is an ass #but sassy #demonically so #sex pollen
🔞 Duplicitous [Daechwita AU, Yoongi]: You must fuck two Yoongis to stay alive. One of them is an emperor. The other one is a jackass. #mean yoongi #yandere yoongi #sloppy seconds #competitive overstimulation #bondage
Entitled [Billionaire AU, Taehyung, Jimin]: Some shit-eating idiot stole your parking spot. As it happens, the shit-eating idiot happens to be the two wealthiest men in Korea. #competitive proposing #enemies to lovers #this is actually just fluff
✨✨ Half-baked Trash:
Professor Kim Namjoon
Puppy hybrid Jungkook
note: if fic is not linked, it has not been posted yet
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chummywchimmy · 4 months ago
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KILL TO KISS YOU
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PAIRING : Yandere!Jungkook x Prostitute!Reader
SUMMARY : Being in the business of selling pleasure, you're no stranger to customers getting a little too attached. But when the head of the syndicate that has painted your town red arrives to stake his claim on the club you work in, all you can think about is making you paycheck fatter. You'd never been shy about your love for material possessions and if there was anyone who could give you things beyond your wildest dreams, it was the Boss, Jeon Jungkook. It took some convincing but he fell in your lap. What you didn't expect was his attachment. It only proves to be...too much.
GENRE : Yandere AU, Mafia AU
WC : 8K+
WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, explicit smut (18+), violence, guns, descriptions and mentions of dead bodies, threats and implications of sexual assault, yandere themes etc.
I do not own BTS. This in, no way, reflects their real personalities. The only reason they have been mentioned is to indicate the physical appearance of a FICTIONAL character.
My intention is not to glorify toxic behavior nor do I believe BTS member would ever act like this. It’s just a figment of my imagination. Know the difference. Please.
AN : Merry Christmas! I really enjoyed writing this one-shot. If you guys like it, I could be persuaded to write the aftermath of the ending considering the fact that JK will only get crazier :)And if not, I'll be more than happy to answer any questions you might have or just anything you wanna say through the asks. Love you! <3
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"Hey, it's time." A brunette head popped in through the unlocked door, causing a squeak to fall out from the mouth of the man moving above you, his heavy frame surprised by the intrusion.
The intruder went away as quick as she had come, unfazed by what she had seen. The same couldn't be said for the man who had frozen still above you. What had he been expecting?
A whorehouse didn't exactly bring a lot of privacy with it.
As soon as the double gated doors to the entrance of the VIP section opened, everyone stilled in their places. A group of men stepped into the dimly lit area, in the middle of which stood the guest of the evening. Jeon Jungkook.
White shirt, starched to perfection, buttons gleaming. You wondered if they were made of silver, the reflection they created gleaming in your eyes. Aside from the silver chain dangling from his thick, corded neck and the buttons of his shirt, your eyes were caught on his exposed chest. Tan, smooth skin shone under the golden lights, three unopened buttons on his shirt exposing the muscled chest for the world to see. Money always looked sexy to you, tonight especially so.
Standing at the back, partially hidden area as you were, you stole a flute of champagne from one of the servers moving past you to serve to the guests.
Jimin had rushed towards the new owner of this club, bowing and ushering him inside. The professional smile upon his face never faltered, although you could notice the visible shake in his hand as he motioned the waiters to come forward.
The stoic man, not a single shred of acknowledgement upon his face raised his hand up without giving the waiter a glance and muttered what you presumed was an order for hard whiskey because that was what he was presented with.
As soon as the man had sat down on the black couch, the men around him relaxed, a few taking drinks of their own. Except the ones who still stood around him, rigid as if made of granite.
The girls on the poles began their show as the lights lowered further and music began playing.
Now was your time.
As you strutted to where the boss was sitting, silk robe fluttering around your thighs and hair bouncing as you swayed your hips from side to side, you knew what you wanted to do was dangerous.
But you knew men like him. They noticed daring.
And that watch on his thick wrist, adorning golden skin that was exposed due to the pushed back sleeves, looked way too good.
You knew every single man in the area was looking at you, salivating. You dwelled in it, bathed in their desire. It fuelled your confidence.
Except the man you wanted to notice you wouldn't look in your direction. Jungkook was talking to a man who stood at the end of the couch he was sitting on, a glass held in his large palm, the golden liquid shining under lighting of the same hue.
As you neared the back of his couch, the men standing around it glared at you, one of them getting in your way.
You smiled at him, putting a hand in the middle of his chest. The silver cross hanging from his neck made you want to snatch it but you curbed the urge. It was their group's symbol. You'd be shot on sight.
For a second, your heart thumped. What you touched felt too hard, too weirdly shaped to be a wallet or handkerchief.
It broke your composure for a moment, the realisation that these men were dangerous and the one you were aiming for was the most dangerous of all.
But it's better to be on the devil's side than on his way.
So you widened your smile, speaking through your glossy lips, "calm down, big boy. I'm just here to help your boss relax."
As your robe slipped down your shoulder, his stance loosened and you pushed him aside, throwing a smile over your bare shoulder before you lowered your head down to the ebony head sitting on the couch.
Spreading your palm upon his shoulder that felt tense, you began moving it downward towards his chest slowly. But before you could make much progess, your wrist got caught in a grip of iron. The hand clutched your wrist so tight, you felt your blood circulation get cut off.
"Whoa. If that's how you lik-"
The humor in your tone got cut off instantly as he pushed you to stand in front of him.
Despite the height difference caused by him sitting and you standing, in your heels no less, you felt like he was looking down upon you. A sneer upon his chiseled face and fire in his eyes burned you.
But you were a professional.
So pasting a sweet smile upon your face, you began whispering, sweet as sugar, "Let m-"
"Who gave you the permission to touch me, girl?" The sneer upon his face hardened.
Your subconscious giggled, 'You fucked up this time, YN.'
But you didn't wanna die, so you leant down, your cleavage on display, and splayed out your hand,
"I noticed your glass was emptying, sir. So I-"
Your words were cut off as the same hand that had imprisoned your wrist wrapped around your throat, squeezing at the sides. His eyes dug into yours before pushing you away from him.
You gained your balance before you landed upon your ass and lost your seductress front.
By that time, he had disappeared into the darkness of the girl's booths with one of the girls.
The astrology predictions was right when it said that your zodiac would face losses in business today.
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Before you'd clocked out for the night, you went to Jimin's desk to collect your cheque. As you rounded the corner, you were met with the sight of Shanice standing in front of Jimin. She had her head down, staring at the ground as Jimin ranted.
"-really unprofessional. He was raising questions about the performance of my girls. You know I don't tolerate that Shanice. I've built this place from the ground up. What would we do if he de-"
"Hey I'm leaving." You stopped him in between.
He looked over from staring at Shanice in disappointment to looking in your direction, face red from shouting.
"Yeah, here." He went behind his desk to write the cheque after checking your appointments from his computer. As he was writing, Shanice took her leave, nodding an acknowledgement to you before leaving. You patted her back. Everyone had a bad day in this business every once in a while and you sympathized with her.
"Why were you pissed at her?" You asked Jimin, putting a cheque in your Louis Vitton vintage handbag.
"Jeon wasn't satisfied. Taunted me saying my girls aren't worth the hype."
Your eyes widened. Shanice had some of the highest paying clients so it couldn't be that she was bad.
"Maybe.....he's into men?" You questioned meekly.
Jimin gave you an exasperated look. It had been a long night for everybody.
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The next week, exactly seven days later, Jungkook showed up again. When you'd heard the news, you rushed out, determined to get him to notice you this time.
Dressed in a babydoll gown, you sauntered over to him, deciding to play up the shy act this time since he hadn't seemed to like the bold face of you.
He looked angry tonight, fire brewing in his eyes.
As you walked in his direction, his eyes dragged over your figure. Before you could bat your eyelashes at him, he clutched the arms of the two girls nearest to him, dragging them away.
You pouted. Were you losing your charm?
Seeing Shanice walk out of her booth, you sidled up to her.
"Hey Shan. What'd you do with the Jeon's paycheck?" You asked, wanting to secretly figure out how much a night with the boss could pay.
"Haven't been able to touch it. Its been sitting in my drawer like a rock." She said, a conflicted look upon her face.
"Was he that bad? Too sma-" You began sniggering as she shushed you, glancing around you two frantically.
"Do you wanna die?" She whisper-yelled.
You pulled a sad face. "Damn, it was that bad, huh?"
She finally let out a laugh that sobered up as soon as the sound reached your ears.
The booth that Jungkook and the two girls had disappeared into emanated sounds of cries and loud, strung out moans.
"So....clearly it wasn't bad in that sense." You spoke.
"Well, the sex itself was great. Just the fact that he put a gun to my head as he began climaxing froze me up." She spoke, glancing towards the door.
You froze. Gun? Was he into necrophilia?
"Dying for the dick took a literal meaning." You whispered, eyes bulging out.
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The two girls didn't have the same near death experience as Shanice but the boss clearly wasn't satisfied. Jimin shouted at the girls again, who seemed bewildered to say the least. According to them, he'd climaxed and they had too.
By the time Jeon arrived next week, you had connected the dots. And this time you had a plan. Gun or no gun, you wanted that cheque. The next day when one of the girls showed up with an emerald pendant she'd splurged the cheque upon, your insides were as green as the rock dangling from her pale neck.
Your amazon subscription was ending this week!
So when the man arrived next week, you were prepared. Smoky eyeshadow bringing out your eyes and clad in black lingerie, you looked every bit the seductress you wanted to look like.
Seeing him, however, brought a hesitation in your step. He looked angry.
raging, even.
You'd heard the news. The two gangs were fighting again. The area was becoming more dangerous to operate in and bloodshed was only on the rise.
Veins straining against the golden skin of his throat, jaw clenched shut and a storm brewing behind his eyes. The droplets of ruby red upon his white shirt didn't help either.
This time, however, he kept his eyes upon you until you reached his side.
You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to the punch.
"Want it that bad, huh? Better make it worth my while, girl." He sneered, thin pink lips twisting as he clamped his hand around your wrist.
By the time, you reached the room and he peeled back the red curtain, you'd regained your bearings.
Showtime.
He walked inside the small room, awash with red light, his walk as tense as the rest of his body.
Spotting the red chaise lounge, he sprawled in top of the red velvet. Eyes burning a hole in your body, he beckoned you forward with a crooked finger, face giving no indication of anything he might be feeling.
You took your sweet time walking towards him, heels clicking against the floor.
You kneeled down in between his sprawled legs, running your hands up his muscled thighs. Reaching the zipper, you bent your head down, putting the metal between your teeth and pulling it down. The sharp intake of breath from above you made you want to look up, ruffle your hair and smirk at him.
And so you did.
His eyes narrowed at your audacity. Grabbing your wrist, he pressed your palm over his crotch. Just for a moment, his hips raised up into your palm, large eyes drooping as if they wanted to close.
But as soon as you felt that he had fallen under your spell, his eyes snapped open,
"I pay you to suck my cock. Not to fucking ogle at me."
With these venomous words, his hands made a makeshift ponytail by gathering your hair in his large fist. Raising at eyebrows at his words, while taking monster out of its boxers made cage, you wanted to mutter touché.
But his fist pressing down upon your head made you bow your head before you could speak and the mouth you'd opened to tease him was now filled with a cock that made you look back on your comments to Shanice.
Oh how wrong you'd been.
Trying to wrap your hand around the entire girth, you suckled on the tip, gradually taking more inches down your throat. As you suckled, you raised your eyes up. Knowing how wanton you looked. How alluring. Numerous men had told you so.
As soon as he saw your eyes trying to catch his gaze, he glared into your eyes. Immediately, you softened the look in your eyes, making yourself tear up as you choked. The eyeliner falling down your cheeks in streaks, you stared at him with tears swimming in your eyes.
Spittle left from the corners of your mouth, coating your neck and chin. As another line of water went past the rim of your eyes, your tongue began caressing his frenulum, hand working up and down his hard shaft.
As you felt the salty precum fill your mouth, you raised up his white shirt that covered his abdomen, caressing the abs before running your nails down his skin. As the ribbons of red broke out on the honey skin, his cock pulsed on your tongue and you were sure he was gonna erupt.
But with a curse, he jerked you off, breathing hard with his eyes closed.
You gave him a pouty smile as you stood up. Seeing his hands reaching towards the thin straps of your gown, you stepped back quickly, giggling.
"Patience is a virtue, sir." Although in his line of work, you wouldn't exactly expect him to have come across any virtues.
Looking straight into his eyes as they stuck onto you like a leech, you caressed the black straps. Hooking a finger underneath each, you pushed the gown off your shoulders, shimmying out of it till it fell on the floor.
Bare breasts, flushed with perspiration was exposed to his greedy eyes. The look that overcame his face was feral, almost scary. Teeth hooking onto his pink bottom lip, he let out a breath, nostrils flaring.
You turned around, the look was arousing you way too much when you had a show to put on.
Holding the sides of your underwear, you pushed it down your legs, bending the whole way down. You knew your mission was achieved when you heard a broken growl-like sound come out of his chest, goosepimples erupting across the flesh of your cheeks that were in his direct sight.
Taking your sweet time before turning around to face him, you smiled at him sweetly, ignoring his starved look.
"Do you regret making me wait so long, sir?"
The only answer you got was his clenched hands shooting out to clamp around your wrists and jerk you forwards.
You laughed, the teasing sounds echoing from the red velvet covered walls. Climbing up the chaise lounge, you placed your knees on either side of his spread thighs, your bare heat just a few inches from his shaft that lay, pulsing and red on his abdomen that had your nail marks.
His tattooed hands had clamped around your hips, digging his fingers deep enough to leave clear indents. He tried to push you down but you stopped him, placing hands on his broad shoulders. Jungkook looked up, a confused and impatient look marring his handsome face.
You cupped your hand under his chin, making sure he was looking into your eyes as you lowered down onto his cock. A breath whistled out of his open mouth, a moan leaving yours as your slick core sucked him in easily. Clamping around the hot rod, you moved slowly. Making sure his eyes were open and looking into yours, you kissed his lips. The curtain that had been hiding the soul behind his irises fell away. He stared into your orbs, unblinking as your tongue traced the seam of his mouth, ending at his lip ring to suckle at it gently, lapping at the piercing. His head bowed back, exposing the thick neck that you chose to run your tongue up against, collecting the sweat and kissing a mole that was on the side of his neck. Within a moment, his head snapped back up, palms clutching your waist and pushing you towards the surface of the chaise lounge. One knee on the surface and a strong leg on the floor, he hovered above you.
His half undressed state, pants around his thighs and unbuttoned shirt made your cunt quiver.
His face hardened. Putting a hand on your chest, in the middle of your breasts, he began thrusting. It was your time to be breathless. From leaving your slit so that only the thick tip was breaching it to going deep till not an inch was left, he did it again and again. His cock curved perfectly, hitting the spot inside you that made the toes of your raised legs curl in pleasure. His pace brutal, he slammed in you so that the sound of skin slapping against the skin was deafening.
His hand that was on your chest, moved up to wrap around your throat, pressing on the sides of your neck to cut of the supply of air to your brain.
You let out a long moan, pleading with your eyes and your words as a string of 'please, please more' left your drooling mouth.
As your eyes rolled back into your skull, the veins in his dick imprinting themselves on your walls made you a bumbling mess. His pace never slackened. Opening your eyes, the look on his face made you whine. Dark eyebrows slashed down, a look of concentration marred his features. The chain swinging from his neck as he fucked dangled in front of your eyes.
A small black cross. The cross that only the Jeon syndicate wore.
And the black signifying his status as the supreme leader of the group. The realisation that you were fucking the Jeon Jungkook almost made you climax.
The man that had terrorised this country since he was a teenager.
You were a sick fuck.
His hand that had been choking you cracked your jaw open, fingers sliding into your mouth as he slammed into you.
"Got a real mouth on you, huh? Can't find anything sassy to say now, YN?"
Hearing him say your name for the first time that you had never told him made you screech out your orgasm. Your chest rose up, tears leaking out of your eyes, breasts heaving as you sucked his fingers, laving wetly between the fingers.
By now, his irises had been overtaken by black. The black looked wild contrasted by the red light of the room, creating dark shadows on his sharp cheekbones.
Reaching up, you clutched at his hair, pulling at them as his pace quickened, close to his climax. His cock began pulsing as he breathed heavily, grunting. Suddenly, a gleam entered his eyes as his hand moved towards his pants and pulled out a shiny, metal object.
A gun.
Putting it in front of your face, he put the finger on the trigger.
As much as you had expected this, your insides clamped with fear. He groaned, your tight walls milking him.
Looking in his eyes, you moved your head forward towards the mouth of the gun.
His eyes widened, the nasty smirk that had been on his lips wiped out as you wrapped your mouth around the muzzle of the metal, sucking lightly.
Batting your eyes at him, you sucked at the end of the gun.
It was ripped out from your lips and a weight fell upon you as his chest met yours, his cock piercing your hole so roughly, the oversensitivity made you scream.
His pace stuttered as a mouth clamped around your neck, teeth digging into the skin.
You caress his ear, rubbing at the shell.
All was quiet for a long moment as you stared at the ceiling, making sense of the fact that you had survived Jungkook.
The weight that had just begun to feel comfortable was off you all of a sudden.
Seeing his back, muscles dancing under the skin as he buttoned up his shirt and pulled his pants up, you smiled. The paycheck was about to be good tonight, you could tell.
A flash of silver caught your eyes as his watch landed near your head, the silver glowing in the light.
"Saw you eyeing it the first time we met."
With these words, he was gone.
You smiled, you knew exactly the shop you could sell this chunk of metal at for an absurd amount of money.
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Jungkook was back the very next day.
Seeing Jimin's mouth gape like that of a fish made you laugh.
The club had just opened, the crowd was yet to come in the floors below and so your VIP area was absolutely barren. In fact, you had just come in as well.
You were ecstatic. Last night's paycheck had been beyond your dreams. Another paycheck like this and you would be all set for your Paris trip the following month. You had planned to spend a week in Paris, a vacation you had talked to Jimin about.
Jungkook had walked in and demanded you, refusing any drinks offered to him. That night, sober and sharp, he was even more intense than the night before, making you climax a total of three times, even going down on you before he fucked you brutally. You were in heaven.
Money and orgasms. Your two favorite things in the world.
This repeated each night throughout the week. He would arrive at the earliest possible hour and occupy you till it was time to close the club down and Jimin was timidly knocking on the door. He wouldn't dare say anything, he valued his life too much for that (the intimidating guards standing outside the room didn't help) but he would knock once to signify that it was the early hours of dawn. Not that it was always heard, the lewd sounds emanating from the room drowning out the sound of a timid knock.
You began noticing changes in Jungkook's demeanor. Changes you didn't exactly like. His emotionless mask would only stay on until you reached the room, the mask slipping away to reveal a look of hunger and almost.... desperation that seemed to increase each day.
Not to mention, one night after he'd left, you found your panties missing. You were pissed.
They were so expensive!
When he came over on Tuesday, the end of the weekdays for you, Wednesday being a holiday, his energy seemed weird.
Instead of leaving after he was done as he always did, Jungkook lingered around.
You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he wouldn't leave.
Then he opened his mouth,
"I want you to come with me to a party tomorrow. I don't have anyone else to ask."
His stoic face betrayed nothing, except his orbs. Expectant and anxious, as if scared you would refuse.
And you would. It was an off day for you tomorrow!
"You don't have anyone else to ask, sir? Are you sure about that?" You smirked at him, without fear. In the past week, you'd realised he wouldn't punish you for running your mouth.
He sighed, tongue poking his cheek as he looked at the walls.
"Why can't you come?"
"Wednesday is my only off day."
He stared at you for a moment before opening the door.
You thought he'd walk out.
But he shut the door as he came back into the room.
A chequebook in hand, he sat down on the chair on the far end of the room.
You began laughing, unsure if he was doing what you thought he was doing.
But you were curious too. How much money would convince you to give up the only off day you had in the entire week?
Putting the cheque face down on the space next to your thighs, he exited the room, saying
"Be ready at 7."
Holding up the cheque, signed with your name on the recipients column, the space next to Amount Payable was empty.
A blank cheque.
You sighed. Turns out, your off day could be brought with money.
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Sitting in the most expensive car you'd ever seen in your life, you felt as if you were bathing in luxury. Cream leather seats, woodsy scent wafting in the air-conditioned surroundings and the driver's section partitioned off with a black panel, you truly knew what it meant to travel in style.
Leaning back against the seats, you sighed and sipped from a flute of bubbe champagne that the chauffeur had handed to you as you stepped in to sit beside the man who had requested your presence for tonight.
Looking outside, you were basking in the lights that reflected off the blackened windows. This part of the city was always amazing to travel through. High-end brands, most talked about shopping complexes and the most expensive restaurants littered the streets.
From the corner of your eye, you spied a tattooed hand creeping towards yours. Whipping your head around to face him, you quipped,
"Do you wanna hold my hand, sir? Here you can." Slipping your hand into his, you pulled the enjoined palms to rest upon your thigh.
Unable to resist the opportunity to tease him, you spoke up
"Don't worry, I don't charge for that. Not yet anyway."
His orbs twinkled with amusement yet his lips did not turn up to smile.
Typical.
The car stopped under a two-storeyed building. The first floor being the ballroom, where you imagined you were heading to and upon the second floor- the most opulent restaurant in the town. A few of your friends had talked about - how it was almost impossible to get a reservation here. Anyone who was anyone wanted to post a picture dining at one of the tables, overlooking the river that flowed through its neighbourhood.
You wondered if you could sneak upstairs while Jungkook was busy at the party to click a picture at the doors of this place. your Instagram had been too barren lately.
Walking through the lobby of the building, you were reminded of who you were with. Everyone around you seemed to shrink away from the space that the man beside you walked through. As you looked around the marble and glass beauty, every other person in the place refused to meet your eyes.
You were whisked away to the elevator, two bodyguards stepping inside while four men stood watch throughout the lobby area.
As the lift descended the first floor, you grew confused. The hand that was still held in Jungkook's warm palm tugged you outside the lift to the short hallway. You looked at him confused.
The door to the restaurant was wide open, a short balding man standing at the gate. As the two of you neared, he bent at the waist, not moving back up before Jungkook let out a small hum.
"Sir, your table is r-"
"Lead the way." His deep voice commanded. You look at his face, but he refuses to look back at you, staring ahead as you move into the opulent place.
Freeing your hand from his clutch, you place it upon the bend at his elbow, tugging at it to make him look at you.
"Why are we here? Is this the party? Pretty lame. I mean, we're the first ones here." You spoke. You'd always believed in being fashionably late.
"The party's cancelled so I thought that we could come eat something." He spoke, stopping at the large, round table placed near the floor-to-ceiling glass window that overlooked the flowing river. Twinkling city lights and serene music playing softly in the background, you felt like the main character in a movie. But this wasn't Pretty Woman and you weren't Julia Roberts.
"We didn't have to come here. Its pre-" You began as Jungkook pushed in your chair with you on it before moving to sit down. He stopped however as you spoke the words.
"You don't like it?" He spoke slowly, gaze tracing your features as if to discern the truth.
You loved it honestly. You'd never been to any place that smelled more of money than the very air in this restaurant. But you knew how expensive some places could be and while you weren't opposed to splurging every once in a while, much less when it was coming from other's pocket, you felt as if you'd already taken a lot. You could be a bit money hungry but you weren't a bad person.
But with Jungkook's statement it felt like you'd be doing harm to every person in the vicinity. With his words, the old man's nervousness became much more noticeable. The head shining down upon his bald head reflected off the droplets of sweat that became pronounced as Jungkook stared at him sternly, as if this was his fault. Honestly, the poor man looked like he was going to cry.
"No! It's beautiful here, I love it." You intervened.
Jungkook finally sat down, unbottoning his suit jacket and sending the man away.
With no other company, you looked out the window as you felt the gaze of the man sitting across from you. It was unnerving. You were good in sexual situations, not ones that were filled with awkward silence.
Suddenly a thought came to your head and you fished out your phone, handing it to Jungkook.
He looked at you with a blank look on his face.
"Could you please click a picture of me? I've always wanted to come here."
Without hesitation, he began clicking away as you posed. Some smiling prettily and a few with goofy faces to send to your friends. The fact that the head of a crime syndicate was your photographer made you giggle. What an absurd turn of events.
"Do you like posting pictures?" He asked, eyes still stuck to the screen as he snapped away.
"I guess so. I like taking pictures whenever I go to some nice place or while I'm travelling. I'm hoping to take a lot of pictures when I travel next month." You babbled, sedated by the low conversation and soothing lights.
Before you could ask if you should call for the menu, multiple waiters with several platters appeared before your table. Without even breathing in your direction, they put the plates upon the table and left.
The fact that the table was already set and the menu pre-decided made you suspicious. Absence of any other diners apart from you didn't help either.
But that could wait.
You loved food. It was the one reason you loved having a full bank account. You could splurge on food anytime, without thinking twice. As you dug in, you lost yourself in the aroma and complexity of flavors.
By the time you stopped to take a break, half the dishes were cleared which was a testament to the fact that a large quantity of food had been put on the table.
But between the two of you, it seemed the table may be cleared sooner than you'd thought.
Jungkook ate with gusto. Honestly watching him eat whetted your appetite even more. He would stare at you for a while before you'd give him a questioning look and then he'd go back to eating again. This pattern repeated for a while until the man in front of you picked up a napkin and after dabbing at the corners of his mouth, began speaking in a cautious, practiced tone,
"Do you like your job?"
You looked at him with a bewildered expression on your face.
"I don't mind it." You spoke cautiously.
After staring at you for a moment, he spoke again
"Why?"
Your mouth popped open. Was he being serious? Was he looking down at your job? At least you weren't killing people and filling your banks with blood money, you sneered.
“Uh to pay rent? Buy groceries? Travel?” You spoke, tone patronizing as if explaining it to a young kid.
Probably sensing your tone and disengagement, he steered the conversation towards another topic.
“You like traveling? Is that why you're going to Paris?” He asked, twirling the whiskey that was in glass in his hand.
Watching the amber liquid swirl, you jolted out of your carbohydrate-induced bliss.
“How’d you know I’m going to Paris?”
Without a stutter, he replied, “You just told me.”
“No I didn't.” You didn't recall telling him that.
But the confidence in his tone and the unflinching way in which he returned your gaze made you question yourself. You could’ve mentioned it. You did mention vacation at the beginning of the evening, would it be too far-fetched to assume you’d mention the trip you were most looking forward to?
You looked up from the tablecloth you’d been digging holes into, trying to scour your memories. His voice broke you out of your reverie.
“I have a...proposition for you.”
“Hm?” Did he want you to suck his dick under the table? It would explain why he brought you here.
“Quit your job at the club. Come work for me.” His voice deepened, hand reaching across the table, trying to find your hand but you had already put it in your lap.
“You want me to be your exclusive whore?” You bit out.
He winced. His hand came to rub at his nape. He was such a dichotomy. You felt that if you were to call over the bald man from before, he would take a picture of this Jungkook just to be sure that it was what he was seeing through his eyes.
“It doesn't have to be like th-”
“No Jungkook. I don't wanna be bound to one man like that.” You interrupted him.
“Why? Is it about the money? You know I can give you all the money you want. You'd never want for anything. I'll even take you on vacations often. Wherever you want to go. We cou-” He spoke, breathing picking up.
“No. I can earn all the-” You tried to stop him.
But the sound of his hand slamming down upon the table so hard that all the plates trembled was enough to silence you.
His face was tense, breathing fast and hand clenched into a tight fist, he unbuttoned the topmost button on his shirt before speaking, looking much calmer and collected.
“It's for your own good, YN. The dispute between us and the other group is at its peak and you know that damned club’s caught in the middle of it. It's also no secret that I fuck you regularly. To them, there’s nothing quite as delicious as spoils of war.
If something happens, don't say I didn't warn you.”
With a long look into your eyes, his hand raised up to motion something. a waiter came over with a few desserts.
Sweet delicacies that tasted bitter with fear.
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This was the third time it was happening.
Ever since your meeting with Jungkook, he’d decided that not letting you earn at all was your punishment. Otherwise, what other reason could he have to do this?
Ever since that night, he’d book your earliest slot in advance. However, he’d not show up until later that night to take you, effectively not letting you take on other customers by blocking the time. The club wasn't like a doctor’s office that if you missed your appointment, the doctor could move on to another patient. Nuh-uh, the girl would have to wait for that customer to show up while sitting idle the entire night.
Besides, this was the boss’ appointment you were talking about. Jimin would hang you from the ceiling if you dared defy his orders.
Sighing, you looked towards the bodyguards stationed outside your door, moving to ask them the same question you’d ask them every other night.
“Why hasn't sir arrived yet?”
And like every other night, you received the same answer,
“We do not know. He must be busy, miss Y/L/N should wait for him.”
To hell with waiting!
You stormed out, eyes searching for Jimin to complain to him about the unfairness of it all. This must a business loss for him too.
Spotting him near the bar, instructing one of the bartenders, you call out his name as you reach him.
“Jimin! Hey I need to ta-”
“YN, I was just going to look for you. Please be a dear and go into my office. There's a package for you.”
“Huh?”
“Just go.” He pushed you away, in the direction of the small cabin.
Opening the glass door, you saw a large, blue velvet covered box lying on one side of the mahogany table. You pick it up, seeing the paper pasted on the top signed as ‘Jungkook’ in a scratchy scrawl.
Opening it, you come face to face with a gorgeous necklace studded with diamonds the size of your smallest toe. Putting it on your neck, the diamonds drip onto your chest, making you feel all bubbly inside.
and when that night Jungkook shows up, you smack a kiss onto his lips as he asks,
“Like it?”
“Love it.”
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Putting the hoop through your ear piercing, you picked up the new tube of lipstick, dabbing it onto your moist lips. Your makeup routine was done for the night. You smiled at your reflection.
A knock on the door of your booth persuaded you to walk away from the mirror and open the thin door.
Hana stood outside, a soft smile on her face. You'd always liked her. She was nice and minded her own business most of the time.
"Hey YN. You wanna grab a drink? Business is really slow tonight so Jimin said we could chill for a while." She spoke, glancing at the bodyguards standing at both sides of the door, staring stoically ahead.
"Sure, let's go." You could really do with a drink right now.
Walking to the bar area, you perched upon the stool and rested your elbows on the island.
As the Shawn placed a fruity looking drink in front of both of you, you shifted to face Hana. Seeing her look weirdly nervous, you nudged her.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Feels like I'm sitting with the Queen of England. All the girls are way too scared to approach you, you know?" She giggled anxiously.
You snorted, a bit of the drink trickling out of your nose.
"Would the Queen do this? But seriously, did I kill someone in my sleep?" You questioned.
She gave you an incredulous look.
"You're with the boss now. You could very well get someone killed."
You were stumped. What kind of rumours were going around this place?
"We? With Jungkook? No chance and you know that better than anyone else Hana. I don't like being attached to one man."
Hana tilted her head before shaking it and smiling.
"You might not like it but it seems like he's already pretty attached." She whispered, motioning towards the two burly guards who were now standing near one end of the island, watching you two.
"Well sometimes you know that guys can and do get attached but its fleeting. And those guys are there waiting for their boss to arrive and look out for him, not me."
You did feel that Jungkook was getting attached, more than he should be. But it didn't faze you. You'd experienced this a few times in this line of work and come to know that this attachment stays only till they find something real, substantive out there.
Hana looked at you for a long moment before sighing.
"Whatever you say."
From the corner of your eye, you saw the guards disappear, probably to take a bathroom break.
Throwing back the contents of the glass, the two of you began talking about your upcoming trip to Paris and the shops you were planning to visit before leaving.
Suddenly, the main door slammed open as your back straightened, a weird feeling overcoming you.
Dozens of men marched in. Men who were armed to the teeth. sniper guns and knives strapped to their bodies and scary expressions upon their scarred, leathery faces.
One of them put a gun to Jimin's head as you heard multiple cries echo throughout the room, scared by the same treatment.
You tried to curl in on yourself, tried to make yourself small and unnoticeable.
You turned your head discreetly, trying to locate the guards. Surely, they'd help you, right? They had to. They would at least protect you against their rivals.
But they were nowhere to be found.
A voice boomed across the area,
"where's Jeon's bitch?!" The yell came out of the mouth of the man who held Jimin at gunpoint. You could see him tremble, although he tried to maintain his composure for the sake of the girls who already looked scared to death. They knew what these people could do and oftentimes, it was a fate worse than death.
When no one replied, the crowd grew angrier. A few nocked their victims by the butt end of their guns and cries echoed off the walls.
Your head was spinning. Jungkook's words reverbated in your mind. This was about to become your doomsday.
Hana's fingers that had been holding onto your arm, dug into your skin. Her face was flushed, eyes wide with fear.
"I'll ask again. Where is she?!" You knew it was only a matter of time before someone caved.
And so they did.
One of the newer bartenders, a newcomer into the city pointed a shaky finger at you.
Nasty grins that were thrown your way made you want to puke. Your heart thundered inside your chest, stories of their leader's sadism making your head light.
As a group of men began progressing towards you, you decided to try the only option left.
You tore through the corridor, running towards the men's washrooms. the bodyguards must be there. Or you were screwed.
The sound of multiple pairs of heavy, angry steps behind you made you accelerate. Your hyperventilating breaths made it hard to hear but a few of their nauseating threats made your stomach churn violently.
Seeing the door in sight, you began screaming for help, crying and yelling for them to come out. Bursting through the door, you immediately turned to lock it behind you but your inebriated state of mind spent a second too long.
You slipped upon the floor, the smell of urine and smoke filling your nostrils. Your vision was crowded by the horde of men pushing through the door, circling around you.
Your vision went hazy with tears. It felt like your heart would burst out of your chest as one of them took out a knife, walking towards you.
He crouched down, the armed hand reaching towards you oh so slowly.
You closed your eyes in resignation, a bone-deep exhaustion overcoming your senses.
Something went splat against the side of your face. Reaching a hand up to your cheek, you opened your eyes to look at your palm and screamed. Blood.
But not your own.
And then the screams began.
Sounds of guns firing and men hitting the floor. Finding an opportunity where you weren't noticed, you slipped behind one of the stalls, locking it and putting your feet up so they couldn't be seen through the gap at the bottom and for ten minutes you sat that way.
With your hands clapped over your ears to tune out the guns, screams and violence and your bottom lip caught between your teeth to silence the sobs that threatened to break out.
And suddenly, it was silent.
The sounds of shoes standing outside your door made you hyperventilate.
As the lock began to jiggle, you sobbed,
"Pl-please!"
You never thought you'd be happier to hear his voice than now
"Its me YN."
Throwing open the door, you fell into his arms, chest hurting due to the strength of your sobs.
The two of you fell on the floor, with you in his strong, capable arms, piss staining both your knees.
"Please don't let them take me." You cried, clutching at his collar in a tight grip.
"Never. They would never hurt you again." He spoke, his tone reassuring.
With fingers running through your hair, he picked you up, walking out.
He kept whispering in your ear about how no one would ever hurt you again, how he could always keep you safe and protected in his house, his domain, how you should just listen to him.
Hugging his shoulders, you sobbed.
And before the door of the washroom closed, the vision of it was seared into your brain.
Bodies lying in pools of blood, jaws shot off, brains splattered across the tiles. Still, lifeless bodies.
Each wearing a cross dangling from their necks.
2K notes · View notes
minniepetals · 3 months ago
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cry me a river | the puppeteer
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— summary: father wanted perfection, you fell in love with disorder
— pairing: bts x reader
— genre: angst, mafia!au
— word count: 6.6k
— warnings: slight violence, flashbacks, y/n has a mental breakdown
— part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8
— masterpost “Did you hear? Apparently, he had a daughter all along.”
“What? No way.”
“Who do you think sent us the invitations? You don’t really believe the Reaper would have simply left this world without a plan, do you? He had a wife who died years ago, after all. Seems he kept his daughter in the dark for quite a while. Apparently, even many of his trusted allies had no knowledge she even existed.”
“But why hide this daughter of his? Surely she’s incompetent for someone whose name has never been mentioned in the underworld?”
The man shrugs. “If she’s incompetent, all the more reason to take over the empty throne.”
A laugh leaves another man. “The Reapers are indeed powerful. Stealing that throne would be quite the feat for the man who does it.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow as he makes his way around the room, gossips after gossips of the mysterious Reaper’s daughter whispering all over the place. Everyone’s curious as to who you are, what sort of person you will turn out to be, whether you’re worthy enough to take over your father’s throne or not.
Little do they know, you’ve already made a home for yourself on that seat long before they heard news of your father’s death.
And now here he is, in a dreaded room amongst many other mafia members who got your invitation to the party you mentioned weeks ago. The party being your debut, the party being — your father’s funeral.
He doesn’t know how to feel about it, not exactly expecting you to call your own father’s funeral a debut show for the underworld but what was he expecting when you killed your father with your very own hands?
News not many mafiosos in the room have knowledge of just yet.
He doesn’t like this as he finally makes light of one of his lovers, Seokjin, before finding the rest of them standing relatively close to one another. He takes the last spot beside them, brows still furrowed and waiting for your arrival.
He wishes this will end as soon as possible as he catches sight of Hoseok who stands two people away from him.
Hoseok is silent, eyes unwavering without the slightest hint of emotions on his face despite all the rumors and words leaving many lips in the room. Namjoon himself is questioned on his opinion, being one of the Reaper’s allies, though he refuses to comment much on it.
Yoongi and Taehyung both look bored. Jimin doesn’t want to be here. Seokjin can’t wait for your arrival so this so called party can end. And Hoseok is emotionless.
The youngest of the group wonders what is going on in his head. After all, ten years ago when things were falling apart with you, he had been the last to accept your leaving. And perhaps Hoseok never did come to terms with it, perhaps he still hurts, unsure of what to do in this dilemma now that you’re back, and Jungkook wonders how Hoseok is feeling through all of this.
He can feel his heart falling a little for his lover, eyes moving to the floor of the room when he knows he can’t take staring at Hoseok’s expressionless face any longer.
Hoseok held onto you when you decided to leave and for a while nothing but anger and pain filled his eyes whenever he looked at them. At him. It took some time for Hoseok to finally accept your absence and Jungkook never wants to go through the idea of his hyung hating him ever again. But now that you’re back in the picture, what does this all mean for them?
For Hoseok?
Jungkook doesn’t want to think about it.
He’s running away again, he knows, but…what else can he do? A small glance Namjoon’s way is all he can do.
The leader of Bangtan stands tall, eyes as cold and as intimidating as ever. His brows are creased even tighter today, refusing to answer anything anyone asks him about the mysterious daughter of the Reaper.
“Did you know she existed?”
“I do not know her,” is all he says.
Because it’s the truth.
Once upon a time the eight of you lived a life filled with soft smiles and sweet laughter. That story ended ten years ago when you pulled your ring off your finger, deciding to end all your ties with them. It was you who suggested never to meet ever again, promising to never utter a word about Bangtan to anyone, including your father.
It was you who made the rules of the contract, sitting across from him in the dim lit room ten years ago, looking as if you were barely holding on but still having enough strength to speak to him through the paper contract.
You wanted no relations with him no longer, the pen trembling in your hand when you reached to sign your name before the bottom line.
Still, despite the ache in your heart, the eyes that refused to meet his one last time, Namjoon remembered the last moment he had with you so well. It’s been engraved in his mind so well no matter how much he’s tried to get rid of it.
You bit onto your trembling lip, fingernails digging into the skin of your thigh as you sat in there in his office, head lowered, holding onto your sniffles as the tears cascaded from your closed eyes.
“Thank you, Namjoon. You were a wonderful husband.” The very last words you uttered to him, chin tilted upwards as your eyes remained closed, the corners of your lips barely holding onto the string when it tugged into a beautiful, painful smile, so broken and weak.
He did that.
That was the consequence of his actions.
Namjoon could have sworn his heart dropped in that very moment but he doesn’t remember much of how he felt in those few seconds.
Because after you whispered those words to him, you stood up and turned your back to him, head refusing to look back, feet walking on without another step of hesitation.
It was the last thing he saw of you.
And now here he is, in a building belonging to the Reapers, in your home, with your presence returning to take your revenge.
The door flies open and the noise dies down as all heads turn your way.
A black satin dress falling to the floor, black heels slowly clicking onto the carpet. The room falls so silent he swears he could hear a pin drop if it weren’t for the slow steps you make as the room create a way for you to head for the casket towards the back of the room.
Your hair is pulled up in an updo, a black birdcage veil decorated on the side, hiding part of your face in the dim lit room. Your chin is tilted towards the floor, refusing to make contact with all the curious gazes in the room while your hands fall together in front of you, holding onto a single flower.
The black dahlia tainted with a dark burgundy color.
You look like a grim reaper dressed in black, yet despite the dark color you are decorated in, your face is gentle and soft, pure and innocent with a grieving expression. No one has ever looked so pure dressed in black yet you make it seem so effortlessly looking like an angel walking in grim reaper’s clothing.
Of course Namjoon knows all of this is an act you’re putting on to play the role of the mourning daughter who had just lost her loving father.
He says nothing while the room already falls awestruck by your beauty, despite the fact that your face is tilted down and refusing to give them all a true view.
You fall to your knees once you reach your father’s casket and the room lower their heads in respect of the ritual once you’ve clasped your hands together, greeting the dead Reaper.
Hello, father, you call to him in your thoughts, eyes closed as if you were praying for the angels to bless his path to heaven. But you know more than anyone that your father isn’t in heaven.
I hope you’re rotting well in hell, though I doubt anyone would be able to rot well once they’re in hell. You don’t want to talk to him but you have to put on an act in front of everyone — at least for now. I want to thank you for bringing me into this world. It must be quite a shock to realize the very person you brought into this world is the sole reason you’ve left, huh? There are many things I wish to curse you for but you will never be able to comprehend them all. After all, you’re gone now all because of it. If we had more time, I would have taken my time killing you but I didn’t want to see you living for a second longer.
The flower you had placed before you is handed onto his casket. You stand back on your feet, watching it for a moment to remind yourself that you’ve done well. I’ll be keeping your seat warm for you now. Don’t look after me because I have no need of your guidance any longer. You’re useless to me.
With that, you turn your back to the casket to address the room before your very eyes.
With your face facing the room, you hear a small whistle that almost had you rolling your eyes if you didn’t have that much control over your emotions. You don’t like being seen before a crowd, addressing a room, and perhaps that’s due to the fact that you’ve always hidden yourself well amongst others to the point where you were simply but a shadow to everyone.
And now here you are, facing the underworld with everyone’s eyes staring right at you. You can feel the tremble in your hands and hold them behind your back as your face remains calm.
“Thank you for attending my father’s funeral,” you begin with a gentle facade, a small bittersweet smile curling along your lips as you speak as if you were looking fondly back on your memories with him. “It is a shame to bid him goodbye this soon and I understand that this may have shocked many of you in this room. After all, no one knew of my existence before this very day.”
“Will you be taking his place?” Someone asks and you address him with a nod.
“It is the duty of the heir to take the throne once the father has passed,” you remind him.
“Not unless they’re weak and incomptetent.” You remain nonchalant despite the criticism that leaves another’s lips. When you look over his way, his cocky attitude doesn’t sit well with you but you let him be for now.
He narrows his gaze in suspicion of you. “Your father has held onto quite the legacy,” he states. “How are we to know you’ll promise to continue that?”
“As you’ve said, no one knew of your existence until today. Doesn’t that mean something?” Someone else says, implying the fact that you aren’t up to lead a whole gang, that you’re weak and therefore your father refused to let the world know you existed.
Which was half true. Father indeed saw you as someone who shouldn’t exist and had shamed the face of the Reapers.
Yet despite all the jabs made your way and more, you refuse to give into their childish antics.
“I will assume you are saying this because you are concerned for the Reapers now that my father is gone,” you go on to say, receiving a few offhanded scoffs to which you ignore. “I will say this now, the Reapers will do well on their own without your concerns.”
“Young lady, if you hadn’t realized,” Ah, you don’t like the name he addressed you with, “Now that your father is gone, that throne is for anyone to take.”
“Ah,” you say, “are you saying you wish to takeover my father’s empire?”
“There’s no one left to defend it.”
“I am here to defend it.”
“Barely.”
A laugh and two.
They’re all mocking you.
The corner of your lips curl into a smirk at their underestimation of you. You can’t blame them, they don’t know who you are but that just makes it all the more fun for your part. Because unlike a hidden shadow whom no one has a clue on how her skills are, you have already figured out many of the weaknesses in this very room.
“Alright then, since you doubt me so much,” a playful pitying sigh escapes you, “I guess we’ll just have to deal with this the old fashion way.” Your eyes scan the room, a small grin plastered on your face. “Whoever defeats me will have the chance at taking over the Reapers.”
At your announcement, laughter leave some lips as if you had just made the most funniest joke. When you raise a brow their way, silent in response to their laughs, they realize this crazy fool have just created the easiest way to take over another gang.
“I don’t really like fighting with a girl,” someone steps up to say.
You smile. “Don’t worry about that. Just do your best without holding back.”
He scoffs at your words. “I think I should be saying that to you instead, darling. I’d hate to paint any dirt on that pretty face of yours.”
“Ah, you’re calling me pretty? Why thank you. But as I’ve said,” your eyes darken slightly with amusement, “don’t hold back.”
You stand still, standing tall without moving to any protective stance and they all watch as the gentleman of a different gang begins to lung at you.
His fist grazes past your face and when he almost stumbles on his feet to return back to his stance, the man realizes you’ve just dodged an attack of his. Brows furrowing, he looks your way to find a raised brow made his way.
“You’re holding back,” you say with a small pout. “I’m kind of disappointed you’re underestimating me, good sir.”
It’s easy to rile him up because a man like him doesn’t like it when their masculinity is being challenged. He goes in for another punch and when you dodge that one, his leg is ready to hit you at your blind spot, only it doesn’t get far because once more, he’s barely able to get within an inch of your bubble.
For a second Seokjin was almost afraid for you but seeing as that man is only making a fool out of himself, he lets out a bored sigh, knowing just how one-sided this has quickly become.
“Why don’t we add a weapon?” He suggests and you readily agree.
“Whatever you’d like.”
He reaches for a dagger while Mingyu hands you your katana and in split seconds, he thrusts it your way. Only a step to the side and a knee-kick up his stomach almost has him reeling. Yet the man doesn’t give up as he goes for you again.
A clash of the blades.
Another.
And he’s pushed to the floor.
“What a disappointment,” you say as you spin your katana along your fingers before letting it rest at your side. “Anyone else?”
A few more challenges you, not wanting to believe just how easy it was for you to knock down the first guy, only to realize you indeed have power as well as skills seconds into the fight with you. One of them gets close, however, when their blade grazes your hair, breaking the clip of your veil and causing your hair to cascade down your shoulders.
The darkness in your eyes only becomes more and more clear after each dodge and attack until you’re faced with the final challenger who threw his blade your way, which ends up missing completely and going for the side but you’re quick to grab it and throw it back to land it right before the tip of his shoe.
You turn for a second, gazing silently at the man the blade had almost hit if you hadn’t saved it, and Hoseok acknowledges you with a small nod.
“How?” The man coughs out and your attention is brought back to him.
You let out a small sigh. “Upset you were defeated by someone who carries a vigina in between her legs?” You hate to admit this but, “In the end, I am my father’s daughter after all.” A powerful man so strong almost no one can oppose him. You trained so well under your father you sometimes forget some people were never on his level to begin with — the only good thing that came out of being his daughter — though you guess it was also the very reason you had hurt a lot.
So in all honesty, these people weren’t even worth your time. Sure some of them put up a fight but these were leading members of the mafias you were once so afraid of.
What a let down.
You turn around to head for your father’s casket once more when the last man takes hold of the blade before his feet, running your way and ready to lead a surprise attack.
Only to be stopped by Mingyu who’s quick on his feet, stepping up before you and twisting his blade out of his hand.
Yuna jabs him on the neck and Yeojun stands at a protective stance in front of you.
The room falls quiet as you turn around while a few more of your Reapers have surrounded themselves around you with glares leveling around the room.
And that’s when they realize just how unrecognizable the Reapers faces are to them. After all, despite the fact that not everyone in this room was in your father’s favors, they have all encountered moments with his people. But looking at the people who have come to protect you, none of them are faces that were loyal to your father.
The people who served your father are all gone, replaced with your own people.
A look at the casket then a look your way.
And that’s when it hits them.
“You…” Someone points a finger your way, eyes wide as they level an accusation at you. “How did the Reaper die?” He asks the very question everyone else in this room has.
Finally they’re speaking your language.
Your lips tug into a smirk and that is all the answer they need.
Someone steps up to try and force their way through, only to be stopped by Namjoon’s arm.
“That’s enough,” he speaks in a low, commanding voice.
Another leader steps up, and then another. You stand at the very center of the room, a few Reapers by your side while your allies watch them with careful gazes.
When the remaining mafia members sees you’ve already built your own dynasty with your father’s former allies playing at your side, the consuming aura which exceeds from the new Reaper is so powerful the room becomes suffocating.
And that’s when it hits them: you’ve already taken the throne and they were fighting for nothing.
.
.
.
When the room empties and all that’s left are you and your Reapers, you stand there staring at your father’s casket as still as ever.
Everything falls silent once more and the longer you stand there looking at the room which looks so perfect without a hint of flower in disarray, the harder it is for you to keep still.
“You’re doing it wrong,” you hear your father’s voice in the back of your mind. “Why can’t you get it right?” He asked with irritation clear in his voice.
You coward before him, brows creasing with insecurity because you hated it. You just wanted to get it right yet nothing seems to be going your way.
“I’m sorry, father, I promise I’ll do it right next time.”
“Then show me,” he said and you faltered a little.
Yet father remained still with the slightest hint of budge as he stares down at you, eyes cold and dark as they had always been from the moment you left your mother’s womb.
“Do it right,” he said. “I want perfection. I don’t want disorder.”
You stomp up to the casket and kick it as hard as you possibly can, causing the wooded thing to crack and fall from where it was placed on.
The loud crash alerts your Reapers but they say nothing as they watch you from where they are, watching the boss who seems to be losing herself little by little.
You pick up a flower vase, throwing it at the casket which holds empty all for the sake of image. You had burned your father along with the former Reapers that had followed him and all their ashes have already been thrown into the ocean.
All that’s left is an empty room made for your armies to build themselves up. You’re creating your own empire whose legacy will exceed that of your father’s. It’s been weeks since his assassination and his presence should no longer hinder you in any way but why is it that he’s still here?
Living?
All in your head?
You throw another vase. A third. Then take some flowers that had been left for your father and smash them to the floor. They tear against the force of your hits, petals flying off, dirty and wet yet you can’t seem to stop.
“I want perfection.”
You create chaos.
“I don’t want disorder.”
Stop it.
Stop.
Stop.
Crashing and falling. Destruction and disorder are all that you seem to be able to make. But you don’t want perfection. Not like your father. Nothing like your father.
All his life father wanted perfection but you fell in love with disorder. If nothing you did in your father’s eyes was ever right then you’ll create disorder. He hates it and he hates you, it’s a perfect combination.
He never loved you anyway.
“I would be mad but…I’m actually quite proud.”
You scoff silently in your own thoughts, wanting nothing more than to rid of anything that reminds you of your father. Yet no matter what you think of to do, no matter how many physical things you’ve already thrown away, nothing is harder than getting rid of his presence that lives on in your head.
Get out, you say. Just get out.
But he’s not going anywhere and you aren’t sure what to do anymore.
“Boss.”
A cut to your hand caused by a shattered vase and you turn at your second in command who watches you with a silent gaze. You aren’t sure what’s on his mind but you’re sure he’s a bit concerned yet at the same time, used to your sudden outburst.
“Mingyu,” you whisper as you show him the gash and blood that oozes out from the palm of your hand. It’s on your non-dominant hand so at least you won’t have to worry too much. Brows furrowed, lips slightly pouting, you look up at him as a child would when they’ve gotten hurt and have to tell an adult. “It hurts,” you say and stare down at the cut on your hand, not liking the stinging sensation because it reminds you well of your father.
Then again, everything reminds you of your father so why does one more pain even matter?
It doesn’t.
“Of course it would.” Mingyu takes your wrist with a heavy sigh and Yuna hands him a white cloth, to which he carefully uses to wipe carefully around the cut. “What did we say about throwing a tantrum?”
You glare up at him. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, tugging you lightly and keeping his hand on your wrist as the two of you begin to head out of the room.
The room is nothing but trash after what you had done. Nothing remains perfect except for the remaining black dahlia which sits still on the floor.
Perfect.
Just as your betrayal to your father.
Just like you and your father’s hatred for one another.
He doesn’t love you, he never did. Whether he was truly proud of you or not, you don’t care anymore. You’ve lost touch of feelings long ago yet he still haunts your demons each and every day.
You hate him and the black dahlia is there to prove it right.
.
.
.
The repeated footage plays again and again as if a gif before his eyes and Namjoon isn’t sure what to make of it. Taehyung was able to verify that this wasn’t anything fake and he knows how good the man’s computer skills are but still, Namjoon has his suspicions.
This is his brother after all, the very person he’s been missing almost all his life, in a scene he’s never witnessed before until you sent this over. In all those years during the time he had first gone missing, Namjoon did all that he could to find any source of information in order to find his brother — with his limited skills and power because he had been so young then.
Who would have thought his brother had been with you all along.
“What’s on your mind?” Seokjin asks when he and Yoongi walks in to find the boss lost in thoughts.
Without looking up to know who it was that walked in, Namjoon continues staring at the footage played on loop. “My brother was seventeen when he went missing,” he says, still confused as all the questions are piling up before his eyes. “I thought that he might’ve gotten himself into trouble but this clip says otherwise. He’s living as if he doesn’t have a little brother waiting for him at home. What if he went missing on purpose?”
“You’re saying your father had something to do with his case?” Yoongi asks, raising a brow as the two of them takes a seat.
“The Reapers and Bangtan, we were enemies at the time,” Namjoon states. “We were never on good terms, ever, until I tied that down with Y/N as a vessel between our hands. My father would have never done that if he were still alive. It would make sense for him to send my brother there to infiltrate their home and find some sort of weakness.”
“But he never came back,” Yoongi says and the three of them stare at the monitor which shows Namjoon’s lost brother speaking kindly to a little girl.
A little girl who still lives today, the pure and innocence in her eyes no longer there and had ceased to exist.
“Whatever she knows,” Namjoon plays his finger along his temples with frustration, “I highly doubt a woman like her will give me all the answers without wanting to torture me first.”
“Well.” Yoongi doesn’t finish his sentence but they all understand. You had been loyal and faithful to them in all the days the eight of you were together but they had let you down.
That pretty lady who had the gentlest smile with the kindest heart no longer shines for them. Instead, that pure love you once had for the world itself has ceased from existence. They can still remember that broken girl who had been so desperate to save the relationship, fallen on her knees, only to be left with embarrassment and shame.
They did that to you.
And now here you are, no light left in your eyes, as if all the things you had gone through — whatever they were — had simply broken you.
You broke.
But when? And why? And how?
It is a question they know they will never get the answer to.
“Whatever two cent she’s going to give you, you have it take it,” Seokjin tells him. “At least then you’ll know more than what you do now.”
He’s right. Namjoon’s going to have to suck up whatever it is you have in store for him. No matter how unfair you will treat him, he’ll have to go through with it if he wants to know more about his brother.
All his life he’s has sworn Jungwon was still alive, always refusing to believe in anything otherwise. His brother wouldn’t just up and leave him like that after all. He wouldn’t just leave him alone with their father without a good explanation.
So where is he now? What happened to him and why hadn’t he come back to him?
Only you hold all the answers he wishes to know.
.
.
.
“What did I say?”
“Perfection.” You repeat his motto as if a doll in a trance and all your hands and feet are tied by the puppeteer who is your father. “Perfection.”
“Not disorder.”
“Not...disorder,” you say, eyes blank and staring straight ahead, voice a monotone your heart and ears have yet to get used to.
“That’s right.” He almost seems proud of himself seeing you like this, his daughter, his only heir, without life in her eyes and only responding well to the words he asks her to do. You’re just a pawn to his eyes, nothing more, nothing less, and slowly by slowly, bit by bit, he’s creating you into the perfect little puppet he wishes you had been from the very beginning. He has his fingers wrapped around the strings which tie you up as one would a doll.
You have nowhere to escape.
“Kill him,” father commands and you stare at the man who sits in the room with the two of you, arms and legs tied to a lone chair that sits in the dark room saved by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
Kill him.
Kill him.
Kill him.
You’ve never killed a man before, not by your own hands, and this will be the first day you will prove your loyalty to your father. The day you will finally give all of yourself to him.
Hands and feet. All the strings that control your limbs.
You raise your hand and father steps back, watching you carefully with hawk eyes.
“I want perfection,” he repeats again and again. “Straight through the forehead. Do not miss.”
No second choice, no ‘otherwise something will happen to you.’ None of it. Because father expects the best out of you, nothing but perfection. If you can’t be perfect, you can’t be his little puppet doll. You have to be perfect.
Something pulls at your finger when it lands on the trigger as if a force screaming at you to run away, trying to pull you away from doing this. Because the second you have your first kill, you can never go back and the little girl who held so much hope and love for the world will no longer exist.
But where else can you run except the arms of your father who will never let you escape? You have nowhere to go.
You’re trapped. The second you broke, your past self no longer lives.
You’re dead and there is no one to save you.
They’d be all too late anyways.
You pull the trigger and the bullet flies straight into the forehead of the man. He falls back and the chair follows along with him with a loud thud. Blood pools all around from the head and you know right then and there that there’s no going back.
You stare at your hand which is wrapped in white bandage, alone in your vast bedroom surrounded with nothing but darkness. It can’t stop trembling, why can’t it stop trembling?
You thought you were over it. You were supposed to be over it. How many years has it been since your first kill? How many kills have you done after that first one?
Plenty.
Plenty.
Many more that will never be able to fit if you were to count using your fingers and many of them were instigated by none other than your father. You’ve done so much to earn your father’s trust, repeatedly committing crimes after crimes just to please him and prove your loyalty to him.
You may have looked like a try-hard before his eyes, doing all that you can to make him proud.
It worked, it seems, when the moment you stood above his dying body and he had no idea it would be you to eliminate him in the end.
He’s gone now, no longer here to order you around and rule above you.
He’s supposed to be gone but why is he still living in your head?
Ah, you hate this. You hate this so much.
A moment of anger and you punch your hurting hand against the countertop of your vanity. Disarray falls once more and you push everything off, causing many things to crash and break yet despite the stinging pain that appears from the palm of your hand, you ignore it all.
Your knees buckle underneath you and you fall to the floor of your room, hands hovering over your head as if trying to contain yourself from your father trying to get in.
Get away, get away, get away!!
You scream and scream but you know that no matter what happens, you’re still afraid.
Afraid of screaming, of making a single sound, of everything that reminds you of your father.
You’re afraid of him.
He’s gone but he’s here and you hate this more than anything in the world. It’s better that he’s gone but no matter what, father will always cause you fear whether he’s dead or alive and you hate how weak he makes you.
You hate him.
“Y/N.”
You hear Mingyu’s voice. He only calls you your name when you’re like this. He probably heard the loud crashing from outside and was alerted. Everyone knows that whenever you’re having your moments, Mingyu is the best person to go to.
And now here he is, knelt before your trembling body which can’t seem to control its own self. You feel his gentle touch against the wrist of your injured hand as he forces his way in.
“Don’t clench, Y/N, you’re only hurting yourself more.”
You shake your head, unable to listen. “I can’t,” you whisper softly. “He’s here, Mingyu. Get rid of him. Get rid of that bastard.”
“He’s not here.”
“He is.” You pull your arm back from him forcefully, refusing to hear a word he’s saying as you sit up to stubbornly curl your body into a defensive ball. “He’s here, he’s here, and he will always stay. He’s never going to leave.”
“He’s only here because you’re letting him.”
“What else can I do?” You want to cry, to tear up, to feel all the pain at once but your eyes are so dry you can do no such thing. Instead, you’re left with an uncontrollable trembling body and an injured hand, facing Mingyu who crouches before you and refuses to leave you alone. “What can I do when he’s always been here all my life? I can’t get rid of him. I thought that if he left physically, things would be better but I was wrong. It’s just like how it was when he was still alive. Father would never hit me but he constantly tortured my mind and now I can never get rid of him. I can’t and I…I…”
You can’t tell him that you’re afraid, that father scares you more than anything and that you want to be safe from the fears.
Yet Mingyu knows and Mingyu understands just as the day he gave you his life.
That’s why, without hesitation, your second in command slowly reaches for you once more. He’s careful, cautious, with eyes never leaving yours. With a hand wrapped around your hand, he takes a moment to assess your permission before carefully pulling you in.
Your body continues to tremble even as your head eventually lays against his chest and he’s holding onto you carefully, just as Mister Butler once did when he was still alive and taking care of you. You stare blankly at nothing before you, letting the quiet sound of the room echo on, listening to the steady beat of Mingyu’s heart.
He does this often when you can’t control yourself, when things get too overwhelming and the world becomes too scary for you to face. Yuna used to care for you like this until it got too difficult for her to accommodate to your needs.
You’re unpredictable after all, and Yuna’s nothing but a child. A child can’t look after another child, and so Mingyu took over the role during moments when things get too rough for you. When the world is closing in, causing you nightmares after nightmares, Mingyu is right there to lend you his arms and the steady rythme of his heartbeat.
You will always remember the beat of his heart.
For the longest time you sit there in silence, listening to his heartbeat while trying your best to tune out the rest of the world. Just as he’s constantly had to repeat over and over again throughout the years of serving for you.
Yet your body still trembles when Mingyu speaks again.
“You promised Mr. Kim a meeting at five today,” he says and you blink, unconcerned for it.
“And?”
“It’s nearly five.” You fall silent once more and he waits for a while until you finally break from his arms to stand. “Will you be alright?” He asks, eyes trailing after you with genuine concern.
“I have to fake it, don’t I?”
Mingyu sighs. There’s no way for him to convince you otherwise. After all, nothing gets in your way of doing your duties, no matter how bad your breakdowns may be merely seconds before meeting a member outside of the Reapers. You’ve learned to fake your emotions so well before everyone’s eyes, having been taught to do so from a very young age.
“At least let me wrap your hand again.”
You let him.
.
.
.
“How is she?” When Mingyu walks out of your room to let you dress, Yuna and Yeonjun are instantly at his feet, concerns clearly marked on their faces.
“She’ll be alright.”
“So she’s a mess,” Dasom interprets from the side of the wall, a furrow in her brows.
The two younger ones frown. “Why won’t she just cancel everything and rest?” Yuna asks, her head falling to the floor.
“You know boss’s stubbornness far exceeds any of our concerns. Now go back to your posts, simply worrying about her won’t let boss’s problems disappear just like that.” They know he’s right so without further ado, the two of them are on their feet, trodding along back to where they should be with one last glance made towards your closed door.
“Well?”
Hearing Dasom’s voice from the side, Mingyu looks up to find her watching him with expectancy in her eyes, letting him know that she wasn’t going to go anywhere unless he spilled.
He runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “Sometimes I wish she would just cry.”
“You know that won’t happen anytime soon.”
“Yeah well, that demon in her head isn't going anytime soon either.”
“The day she ever sheds a tear again,” she steps up to him with a hand on his shoulder, “our dear boss won’t cry pretty, so you’d better be prepared for that. Boss will hurt...and so will we.”
How many years has it been since she joined your side and pledged her loyalty to you? In all those years, you’ve never once shed a tear.
Mingyu and Dasom both met you after you were broken. The only one to ever witness it all was Yuna.
A little puppet in the making for your father to control.
But how does the puppet pick herself up after cutting the strings of the puppeteer, when she’s never known to control her own strings?
1K notes · View notes
hollyhomburg · 9 days ago
Text
Before I Leave You (Pt.31)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Taehyung thinks that girl dates are better than regular ones, but she could just be biased because it’s a date with you.
Pairings: Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin, Beta! Yoongi,
Tags: wlw, lesbian love story, fluff, first kisses, mild sexual content, hurt/comfort, brief nudity, best friends to lovers, gender euphoria, trans! Taehyung, referenced passed eating disorders, body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria, transphobia, misgendering,  transgender slurs, discussions on femininity, brief violence warning, 
W/c: 11.6k
A/n: this is for the lesbians <3 i hope that everyone whose never had a happy shopping experience can dream of themselves in this slice of heaven with tae and the m/c <3 i think in many ways, their love is so innocent and genuine. they really are best friends~
Previous Chapter - Masterlist
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Tae doesn’t realize that this outing is more for her than for you until you’re deep within the confines of the store.
It’s extensive; endless isle of pretty pastels and cotton fabrics that promise sweetness with every stitch. It’s a good thing that Tae is well used to ignoring the constant wound of her gender and ignoring what she wants even when it’s right in front of her face. Otherwise she might let her overactive heart and imaginative mind get the better of her. 
Tae feels hot, and vaguely itchy, the unpleasant smell of too many people and industrial strength detergent hovers heavy on the air.
She doesn’t let her eyes linger on the dresses for long, or the silky shirts with long bell sleeves, or the ones with little ties at the front and the corset tops with bows at the shoulders, the mini skirts pretty and small and pink.  The desire finds its home with other phantom pains and phantom wants within her chest as she watches you begin to sort.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out that this isn’t something you’re unfamiliar with. You scan the racks with a practiced eye, the metal click of the hangers gliding across the racks as you comb through them at an even rhythm.
This shop is somewhere in between a second-hand store and a consignment warehouse, but there is some division by color and style. More punky styles hang closer to the windows to attract a particular clientele, though softer pastel things seem to be the more dominant theme closer to the walls where vintage shirts hang. One with a warn edge that proudly proclaims in neon pink bubble letters "girls do it better.”
Tae doesn���t know how you found a place like this- let alone who might have told you it existed pressed between a frozen yogurt shop and an empty menswear store that smelled heavily of mothballs on the way past. There is a rainbow flag and a few other errant ones hanging by the front, labeled, with prices too.
She doesn't look at the pink and blue and white one. That would be ridiculous, right?
Tae's not the packmate that’s the most involved with easing your more food-related anxieties- she sees you linger a little wondering about sizing with more than a few of what you pick putting one back and not another. The florescent lights from above make you look a little more gaunt that usual.
She wonders if clothing helps more than it hurts- if having things that fit you (and really fit you- not just fit your body like the extra-large shirts that Yoongi likes and you like to steal) will help you in the long run or make it worse when Jinnie's love language inevitably makes you size up. 
If it makes it worse Tae will take you away from here. And if it helps well- there is the froyo store next door, and feeding you will probably earn her more than a few thankful glances from the pack-mates. That’s the only thing on her mind as you hold up a dress.
Tae’s just about to say that it’s a lovely shade of pink when you hold it out to her- closing one eye so you can better see what it looks like silhouetted against her form like one of those paper dolls you used to cut out of magazines when you where a child. “I read online that synching can help give you more of a waist so like- stick to things that are fitted to be an hourglass or have ties and shit!”
“What?” Tae splutters, something about your predicament not clicking, staring at you dumbfounded. She casts a look about the store but there aren’t many other patrons, except for a trio of women at the jewelry counter and the one middle aged woman who mans the front desk, long red nails clicking on the counter audibly from here. But It is mid-day in the middle of the week and the mall and this store are relatively empty.
It doesn’t make what you just insinuated any less terrifying. You continue like you haven’t heard her one bit, humming and holding another to her form, this one light grey, making a satisfied hum and adding it to your steadily growing pile of dresses.  
“What are you-“ you ignore her, walking further along with the rack and finding one at the end, swishy and silky, thin straps that dip to a plunging neckline.
“Ooo- This one's good too- but you don’t wear a lot of marron, let's see- size 8- that should be fine-”
“Y/n- we’re out in public.” Tae's whispered warning does little to deter you. You raise an eyebrow in her direction before ignoring her and going back to flicking through the racks. Biting your lip and acting like she hasn’t spoken, pushing even though you know how terrible it is to push.
Please don’t hate me Tae, please don’t get mad. I know it feels scary but- but-
Your swallow feels like it strangles your vocal cords. The words invisible hands gripping at the oxygen trying to pass through your windpipe, holding it as collateral. “Maybe you’re a 10 with your shoulders, but that’s okay- I’ve got broad ones too-”
“Y/n!” she whisper yells as you continue to ignore her, the racks of clothes are quiet and secluded, no one can see most of you except your heads (if they were far enough away they might not even be able to see you- you barely come up above the racks). Some pop music drowns overhead the kind that models walk runways to a beat thats low and pulsing.
Your hand suddenly finds her wrist, fingers pressed into her scent gland sending a comforting zing up her arm. Tae hadn’t even realized that her scent was going so sour, that the air was saturated with the smell of cinnamon turning peppery, thick alpha panic.
But she can’t contain her emotions. This kind of thing shouldn’t be happening here where anyone could see. 
All this time, you’ve wondered what Tae would be like if you pushed, what kind of revelations and comfort she could find if she only knew the door was open for her. It doesn't escape you that the only other time you pushed her it gave you that little box of shared makeup that isn't so small and easily hidden anymore. 
Pushing gave you both something you’d swear on. That something that isn’t quite love, not yet but its close. You can feel it hammering in her pulse against your fingertips pressed to inches of skin only her lovers have touched.
Her lovers that are also to become yours this weekend, would Namjoon and Jin call themselves your lovers? Probably not. But you have a feeling Jungkook would, he’s romantic like that. 
You don’t know if you would have ever started eating normally again if they hadn’t pushed you, and while it’s not easy it feels better to get better. Your body feels capable for the first time in months and you don’t feel so tired for once. weeks ago this would have exhausted you. You forgot what it felt like- to feel even a little strong. 
And yet, sometimes it doesn’t feel so good. Sometimes you hunger for the pain in your stomach again, you want the edges of your vision to go foggy again and for you could feel all floaty. Sometimes you wish you could feel good just by doing something bad. 
How strange is it, that pain can become a comfort. Is that why Tae continues to wear the same clothes as always? It’s paradoxical, happy to get better and unhappy to try. Like some feral animal gnawing at its own arm to get out of a cage, what does it feel like to loose the hurt you cling too? Does Tae feel the same way? 
You don't think you'd be able to bear it if she did.
You don’t know if Tae will ever address this if someone doesn’t push. You don’t know how much longer she’d be willing to pretend for their sakes before some inevitable blow-up. And if you can’t show her that they’d love her no matter what, you can at least show her that you’re accepting of this, that you’re encouraging.
No matter what happens in the future, Tae will always have you. You don’t know for sure, but you think you’re the safest person to do the pushing.
You press close to her your hands shake and Tae realizes that this isn’t only difficult for her. Your words are so hushed that Tae can barely hear them over the music. “I checked online, this shop is…friendly to everyone, boys, girls- they carry everything in a size small to 5x too- fits everyone.”
And it’s true- the high heels at the front are tasteful and large. Tae noticed on your way in that they go all the way up to a woman's size sixteen. They even have a little chart that converted men's sizes into women's and back again.  
Hiding makeup is one thing but hiding shoes and clothes is another. It’s impossible. And besides, the things in this store have never belonged to her- will never belong to her no matter how much she wants them. But you- standing small in the middle of the aisle, you look like you belong. But does that change the facts? If one person believes in Tae will it make it any easier?
“There's even a sex shop in the back,” you supply, like that makes it any better. Like that will get Tae off the topic of this anxiety and make her cave if you infuse a little bit of your quick wit into the words.
Tae sucks on her lower lip. Casting a nervous glance at the front door and the glass windows where anyone could be looking in. The anxiety builds and the cashier at the front lifts her eyes to the two of you, nails still drumming dully. Tae nearly flinches back from her stare.
“Tae. Look at me.” She does and your eyes are swimming with concern. Oceans and oceans rolling overhead, waves crashing white as Tae begins to panic. 
You parrot her words back to her, “If you want to leave, we can go. If you want to look for just me, we can. We can do this once a week until you decide you want to- if you want to- I’m not going to force you. If you’re not ready for this it’s fine- I promise- I just wanted to-” you make a frustrated noise in your throat, sighing heavily. Cutting off your rambling.
You look at the dress you hold, touching the cotton with careful fingers. A small smile starts to quirk your lips.
It’s been a while since you’ve touched something so soft and so simply pretty. The kind of pretty that exists only in movies and in curated Instagram feeds and in reality is so much harder to get on your own. Tae might not know that much, and you worry it could hurt her feelings. All those picture-perfect models in magazines are but a masterpiece of tailoring, the right angles, and photo shop.
Reality and fashion are two different things.
“I can’t, you know why I can’t.”
That reason being Jimin, Minnie, and the others. You swallow that pill hard. Would it have been easier for Tae had she been born in the body she needed? You're not sure. Femininity isn't easy- it isn't easy for anyone to have, much less when it comes from two sides of such a polished knife.
You won't pretend, you know that Tae's fears aren't unfounded. Every day the news that Jin watches says one thing or another about 'trans alpha to omegas in schools; are they dangerous?’ or the 10th commemorative march that marks the day that same secondary sex mating became legal. Its difficult to consider that a decade ago alpha-alpha relationships where taboo- that the love Namjoon, Jimin, Hobi, and Tae share is anything other than divine.
There is no good choice. It's either she ignores this and she continues to suffer, or she throws herself headfirst into it regardless of what might happen. And ignores her fears of what hidden eyes that might find her being unseemly, what judgment will or won't come. 
Is it better to be trans and in danger? or swaddle yourself in dysphoria like a suit of armor and feel safe? Tae’s armor hangs loose on her body today, a flimsy white button down and a pair of slacks that hold her hips low.
It’s funny- dressing in pretty clothes might feel the same to you. How many omegas have been told that it's their fault for incurring alphas' unwanted attention with what they were wearing? How many women have felt that same shame that Tae might feel?
Is it better to condemn yourself as undesirable, not partake, and accept that you will feel excluded, or is it better to try and give a big fuck you the people who say one skirt is too short or one hem too plunging, especially if it means enjoying your body for what it is.
Fuck safety if it means I can't be me.
Clothes are meant to be an extension of yourself so that people can tell the content of your soul just by looking. Tae's soul is the prettiest shade of blush pink, the pink to end all pinks. Yours is more a feeling softer than any color, pastels with dark pops of color like the dress you hold, fiddling with the hem. And it feels so-
Fuck- dysphoric isn't the word for it, but not wearing what represents your soul hurts. Like it's growing and pushing at your skin fighting to break through the confines of your body and find a more willing host. A butterfly with the wrong color wings.
Both of you are damned if you do and damned if you don't,
So, you might as well have fun with it.
Walking out of the house this morning of your own volition had been hard to say the least but it had felt purposeful when you’d reminded yourself who you were doing it for. You might struggle to be brave for yourself and to want good things for yourself but it will never be difficult to want the same for Tae, to be brave for her.
Your voice whisks Tae away to better worlds, parallel and not. Other lifetimes that she has never been brave enough to believe in. Your body angled to hers, hips falling in a way that Tae has always been jealous of. The way that has men- alpha and not- stare.
“I had a dream the other night- where we had matching dresses.” Your fingers hover and you hum again, a small pretty noise that has Tae's ears straining for more. Sweet like birdsong in the morning and the first bite of a freshly cut watermelon.
“We weren’t doing much just sitting together and painting our nails or maybe just holding hands. I can’t remember exactly, it was honestly more of a feeling dream than anything else. But I woke up all happy- we were both so happy Tae, and I know you’re not always and I just- I want you to be happy all the time.”
Maybe that’s all love is, wanting someone to feel good all the time.
It’s strange to try and talk about your dream, that you'd woken with the taste of lipstick on your tongue and a vague impression of the two of you in your mind. Your dreams aren't often so concrete without being a nightmare but you can still feel the feeling of her skirt against your knees, and a touch that felt suspiciously like lips against your cheek.  
You remember the way that petals had looked on Tae’s skin better than you can picture your own face when you close your eyes. Little flowers like babies' breath and violets and buttercups growing from her collar bones and quince growing from yours to tangle with the climbing rose that sprouted from her red tipped fingers. Fingers that teased daisies into life along your skin, forget-me-nots that grew along her hairline, with pink clover dotted along her spine.
Yoongi had even teased you for smelling so happy when you'd woken. Leaning over you to kiss at your shoulder, waking you up with kisses so gently it might as well not have been him kissing you. Dream and reality so blended together it was hard to tell when the flowers ended and your mate began.
(What are kisses other than the blossoms of love made physical? Kisses and flowers are just the same word in a different language).
You swallow hard, looking at the dress like you’re looking at something else entirely; the promise of a future that both of you so desperately want. Tae once again looks around to make sure that no one watching but the shop is blissfully empty, nothing but a few errant dust bunnies to hold your secrets. There isn’t anyone in your section of the store.
Your eyes are so honest when you look at her, Tae finds it so hard to hide her hope when you look at her like that. “You deserve to be happy Tae. If I deserve pretty things then you do too.”
For the first time, Tae takes a closer look at the dress in your hands.  
She doesn’t know that before Yoongi this kind of dress was something that you were denied often. Geumjae liked you in all black, and if not all black then styles that were more mature and less fanciful. You’d never gotten the opportunity to dress your age; only told to dress older and to act older. 
No cute fluffy skirts or flowing non-form fitting dresses to the knee, no peter pan collars or flower prints. There was no space for things that were cute- only things that would make you sexy or beautiful and desirable.
Funny, the man had been so intent on making you an accessory to be wanted by others, he could hardly be angry that someone else put their sights on you. You can not make someone bait and then be angry that someone tried to take a bite.
This dress has small patterned flowers and a slit up the side, the sleeves puffy and flirtatious in a way that you had never been allowed to be. White fabric and blue flowers so innocent and yet so daring for you.
You once thought that you could never be comfortable in something like this again- something that showed so much skin. But since the other night when you dreamt of Tae, you’ve wanted it again. 
You want a reason to find a home in your body, a reason to stop pretending you were given another one. One that kept the weight off better, one that was long and tall and not short and stubby. For once in your life you just want to be you.
You want to feel pretty on your date on saturday, you want to wear what you want to wear without thinking of anyone but Jimin and Tae. You want to be pretty for them because you want to be pretty for the people that you like, not because it will grant you safety if you please them.
Everyone else has nice clothes, everyone else has uses for their nice clothes; they don't dress to blend in but to stand out. And maybe you never will be able to do that again without feeling like you’re putting yourself under a microscope, but it’s a nice dream. 
You dream if not of a world where you can feel less afraid, then a world where you can at least try to feel more like a person.
Maybe your trip with Hobi the other night has affected you more than you thought It would. We struggle to feel half as human as everyone else, would Hobi have similar platitudes for Tae if he knew about all her gender stuff?
The seclusion of the clothing isles is quiet enough to nurture the collection of your truths. Your expression souring as you speak, “In a few weeks, if I keep eating like this, I’m going to gain weight. Even though I don’t want to- because the others want me to. So if you’re worried about hiding things that are your size, don’t. We can easily say that they’re for me. Jin will probably even be happy that I’m preparing for it.” You say spitefully, like you hate that you’re right. Like you don’t want any of it.
But you still hold the dresses, watching her, waiting for her derision or her approval, waiting for her to join in or walk away.
Tae swallows back her emotions and tries not to cry. Her hands shake when she takes a dress from you. Not the blue one but the green one, Trying not to let her eyes linger on the fabric, the little tied bow at the front. Things that have never been for her, that have never belonged to her except for in the wild confines of her imagination and her moments of weakness.
Tae looks at the dress and aches.
There is a second where you both just stand and stare until Tae’s hands tighten around the hanger before she puts it back on the rack. You swallow and try to tamp down on your sadness, your disappointment not for yourself but for Tae.
But then, she speaks. “Well that one definitely won’t fit your skin tone, lets's find one we can both wear if you really wanna be matching.”
You look over at her, a small smile blooming on your face as she begins to flip through the racks, slower and tentative, and then quicker. She finds one thin gauzy fabric, candy apple colored with a collared top, Flamboyant and bright “What do you think of this one?”
You nod approving, “Red is definitely your color, I think off white and pink would look nice too.”
Tae’s skin hums like champagne bubbles and shivers every time she touches another dress. “It’s settled then.”
The first few ones Tae turns through are more perfunctory, eyes sliding over them, but then her eyes catch on a white one, a soft flowy dress with tiny tiny straps and an even smaller skirt. She looks around for what must be the dozenth time and realizes that no one is staring, no one's looking at her or you.  
You are blissfully alone together, and terrifyingly free. 
She takes it off the rack, hand trembling. “Can you hold it for me?” Tae asks quietly, shyly almost. You take it with a small smile, encouraging as she starts to slice through the racks with more conviction. 
She starts to actually look, fingers skimming different dresses and lips pursing. Tae finds it at the end of the rack, the brocade the lightest shade of blue possible. Blue might not be her color but the cut of the dress is beautiful, cinching at the waist and the way the fabric folds at the top to sit against cleavage that Tae doesn’t have and well-
There are padded bras in the back, if she wanted to she could. Maybe it was enough to want before. But now it’s not when you quickly amass a stack of different things to try on, button-down silks and tiny little chemises dusted with lace at the edges like icicles on the edge of a roof in winter.
You soon find yourselves making your way towards the back of the shop in the direction of the fitting room, hands bogged down with a dozen different dresses and shirts and skirts to try on, a mix of apprehension and excitement building in Tae’s chest.
Tae hopes it will be enough to just be pretty for a day, to simply want these soft things like they are a pupa and she's a goey butterfly, moving slowly so she doesn't risk ripping her wings.
The excitement shrinks slightly at the bored college-aged attendant manning the rooms, an alpha boy who must not be older than 18. He doesn't raise his head when you approach, instead of drawling out a bored "how many?" Tae gets it, minimum wage pays for minimum effort.
She doesn't realize he's wearing a shiny lipgloss until he looks up, sees you, and straightens the glass of his lips winking at Tae. The alpha predictably puffs out his chest trying to posture infront of you until his eyes slide to Tae and he crumples. (Poor freshly presented pup. Tae remembers how that felt, how every omega that came close felt like a potential packmate).
Tae hovers, wanting to ask about the lipgloss, it almost looks like it will pop like bubblegum when he opens his mouth so thick and glossy, stuttering as he looks at you. 
Damn, it's been years since Tae has felt uncomfortable or shy around other queer people. You are not so shy, grinning over the pile in your hands. “Uhm, how much is alot?”
The alpha laughs, a touch too loud and ignores the signs at the front that say "6 items only” The alpha opens two rooms at the front but you linger, making your eyes a little wider, shifting on your feet in the way Tae knows you do before you ask for something.
“Actually, can we have the one on the end? The big one?” the alpha, apparently not unsympathetic or immune to your prettiness basically rushes to the end to let you through. Tae finds himself stepping a little closer to you, fingers pressing against your lower back.
The alpha glances at Tae but averts his eyes when he catches Tae’s stare. Barely offering a mute squeak, his voice cracking, “let me know if you need anything in a different size!”
“How did you do that?” Tae asks when the door closes, hiding her laughter (and also her possessiveness curling up like a cat in her chest. Sharing one fitting room sends such a clear message and Tae can’t help but snicker at the poor pup). 
“What are you talking about? I just asked?” Tae just shakes her head. You're always so terribly pretty, she's not surprised that it got you better treatment. You’re the kind of omega that would have any alpha breaking the rules.
Tae hangs up the few dresses that she’s accrued on a row of hooks, staring at them with trepidation that is slowly melting to giddiness. The dressing rooms are dimly lit with walls covered in pink velvet that cast everything in a rosy glow. You have room to move around in as well as a bench bracketing both corners for your things, Your jacket, and your clothes when you disrobe.
It had been funny and a little cute when you’d asked for one dressing room- but actually changing with you is another thing entirely. 
You unzip Jungkook’s jacket with a schlick and move to lift your shirt over your head and Tae holds up a hand, blocking your form from view as she makes a noise, “Jesus Christ- you-“
Maybe it’s a casual reminder that physical intimacy is something that you’re getting better with (especially when it comes to certain members of the pack) but you and Taehyung have not had that kind of time together yet. You’re so used to changing in front of Yoongi that it honestly didn’t occur to you that she might be uncomfortable.
And yet- she’s blushing, averting her eyes. And she hopes you just think her flush is just the light bouncing off the pink walls but it’s hard to tear her eyes from you. Your bra is a little old, the white lace a little discolored grey- the way that all lacy underthings get when they’ve been worn too often.
The sight of the old lingerie makes an displeased growl build in her chest. she ignores the more alpha part herself that says a pretty pup like you shouldn’t need to wear such old things in favor of looking.
Tae can see more than she’s ever seen of you before, the soft slope of your chest and the darkness that might be a nipple. Before she snatches her gaze away, her pants suddenly a little too tight.
“What?” you honestly sound surprised. Holding your shirt in your hands, shoulders curled in.
“You’re- you just-” Tae lets out an aborted whine, “You’re not seriously gonna get naked in Infront of me, are you? We should- I should give you your privacy.”
“Tae, is it my privacy you’re worried about?” you step closer to her, looking up at her in a way that makes her feel like she’s been placed under a microscope. Because it’s really not;
She’s not worried about seeing you- she’s worried about looking too long. That her eyes will find their home in you. Where did the shy little pup go, why don’t you mind Tae seeing your body so suddenly? It takes real effort for her to keep her eyes on your face, not linger around your narrow waist or your chest.
You take her hand, placing it over her heart. Your skin burns underneath her touch. Warm- the dressing room is hot and makes her mouth all dry. Tae begs her skin not to feel yours, that her fingertips will not impart the memory of touching the spot over your heart and burn its feeling into her mind.
Tae couldn’t look away from you if she tried.
“You aren’t the first alpha to see my body, and I’ve had them love it and praise it and hurt it and I’m not afraid of you doing any of those things. Being nude in front of you isn’t a burden and putting on dresses- it’s not straightforward- it takes a bit to make them sit right. I just thought it would be better if i helped you. Is it okay if I help you?” Tae gulps, nodding, her fingers tickling the peach fuzz on your collar bones.
Tae's hand tingles when you step away, she has to flex it to get the feeling back, before she can sort through her malfunctioning thoughts you throw a dress in her direction.
It hits her dead in the face. 
The light blue silk narrowly avoids the floor by Tae’s hands. “Now put this on! I Wanna see!” you turn your back to Tae as you shimmy off your pants. The mark on your lower back doesn’t escape her stare, she’s known about it for a few weeks and before she can get a good look at it your dress slips over your hips.
You’re stronger than any of us give you credit for.
The first one you've thrown at Tae is a particularly confusing number with straps that crisscross and confuse her. Tae turns her back and steps out of her clothes, the buttons coming off one by one, peeling back her disguise while you fiddle with your own dress, trying to make the lining sit right. Pulling it down when it gets bunched up around your hips and giving Tae some time.
Thank god she wore tighter boxers today, the Calvin Klein ones barely cause any ripples in the fabric. Tae can’t say it feels comfortable, the band from both the dress and them digging into her waist at different levels. Tae doesn’t know how to put the dress on, she struggles for a second to find the hidden zipper until your hand finds it and you unzip it for her. 
“Sorry”
“Don’t be, make sure you latch the top, or it can come undone, this kind of zipper is delicate too- it’ll rip if you pull it too many times.” Tae shimmies it down her hips being extra gentle- unsure of how much stretching the fabric can take.
The soft cotton of your dress pulls taught at your knee as you help her with the straps, the slit revealing inches and inches of skin that Tae is allowed to look at when she turns, her own arms holding tight around her body in a one-person hug. The dress fits you well, if not a little tight around your bust. The cleavage isn’t any less enticing just because she’s touched it already, touched it now.
Tae tries not to stare, how do boobs just- stuff themselves into small places? Tae’s never even touched them before, wants to know. She’s too shy to ask.
It’s pretty on you, and it flatters your body with room for your curves to grow. When you step out into the hallway Tae resists, can’t make her feet move those last few feet, hovering in the fitting room air stolen from her lungs, Tae can’t breathe. Her lungs drowning in despair and hope.
You beckon her with a hand, “Come on, the light outside is better.” Is it the possibility of hating it or loving it too much that makes her so scared? regardless, Tae takes your hand and takes a step out into the light.
Tae makes a small noise as you guide her outside, casting worried glances at your surroundings but no one else is in the fitting room. You’re hidden and just as safe here as you would be in any other place.
She can’t make herself look up as you lead her over to the trio of mirrors the fear mounting with every step. It certainly feels nice, the way that the fabric just barely brushes her knees making her aware of her body with every brush of the seams along her hips. It’s far more comfortable than the stuffy dress pants. Air moves around her ankles, the cold tickling the hairs there.
You step behind Tae, making her stand in the mirror properly. Your chest brushes her back, warm. This dress- Tae’s dress- must plunge in the back because Tae can feel your skin and not just the smooth cotton of your dress. The plush squish of you pressing into her.
Tae can’t look, she really can’t- it's probably better if she just goes back and changes before she even gets a taste of this. Before she starts to truly dream of what she can never have.  Her eyes remain fixed on the pink carpet below and her feet curl into it, she can’t force her chin up to look at herself in the mirror even though she can see all the blue in her peripheries.
Your voice is soft as satin and she trusts it, “Tae, sweetheart Tae- you look so beautiful.”
Your hands settle around her waist, the pressure of your hands on her hips gentle and cool through the fabric. It’s your touch that finally gives her the strength to look up.
Oh,
It’s everything.
It’s everything Tae’s always dreamed of and always wanted, always thought to hide and shy away from. The dress fits her, well- it doesn’t fit perfectly but it’s perfect enough and perfect for her. 
Tae has a waist- and her knees are nobly below the hem of the dress, but- but it’s beautiful. The blue that sits just so, ripples of fabric that cling to her. The straps carve delicate lines up her shoulders like flowering vines lacing up a tree in the direction of the sun.
Tae is beautiful.
Tae is absolutely glowing.
It’s the same feeling as when she looked in the mirror after having the makeup on for the first time only more. Rightness and happiness swirl and spin in her chest like flower petals kicked up in the wind. The way that the fabric falls on her hips, the way that it hugs her curves and makes more out of her spindly body honestly magic.
Wearing this dress feels like coming up for air, the relief and cool breath burning in her lungs so good. 
And well- looking at the chest area might make Tae a little too upset to look for long but Dysphoria and euphoria rage in her chest. She stumbles forward, fingers touching the mirror.
Tae stands back, holding out her hand to cover the picture of her flat chest.
There, perfect.  
Her hair tickles her cheeks, and you watch Tae’s smile grow wider and wider the longer she stares. The joy builds in her body until she’s rocking on her hips, swaying so that the fabric swishes. Her hands skim down her hips lovingly, like she can’t bear to touch it, like she's afraid it might disappear if she does. 
You sway with her still holding her waist and Tae lets out a small wet giggle, happiness bubbling up like champagne on a Sunday morning, “it’s so-“ Her hands touch and touch, trailing up and down the fabric, in love with the feeling. “It’s so me. I’ve never- this is-” it escapes words and articulation, a broken feeling now fixed. 
You lean your face against her bare arm (after trying and failing to go on your tiptoes for her shoulder, still too tiny for that- but it's nothing that heals couldn't fix). You press your mouth and your cheek to her shoulder to hide your smile. Your relived happy sigh.
Okay, maybe pushing was okay.
You like Tae’s happy scent, love it even more now- as it climbs, sweet and musky. Before today you never would have thought Tae smelled uncomfortable but now her scent fluffs out to fill the room, thick and distracting in a way you've never scented it before. You taste cinnamon on the back of your throat, aromatic and floral.
Out of everyone in the pack, Jungkook easily has the strongest scent with Namjoon a close second. With everyone else it depends on the day and how happy they are to decide who smells the strongest. But if this is what Tae smells like when she's happy- fully happy- then she puts them all to shame.
She smells so good, the kind of alpha musk that has you wanting to tilt your neck to the left and show her the unmarked side of you. That makes your mind tingle with safety soft feelings. 
You nuzzle into her arm, Hand sliding up to cup just under her chest and it makes shivers erupt all down Tae’s spine, hair on the back of her neck rising. Now the heat makes sense, dresses are a little cold- Tae hadn’t realized how cold dresses could be.
 “You like this one mommy?”
Tae’s voice is so soft, tight and happy and not at all bothered by your nickname slipping out. Her chest glows with it. “I love it. Can we-“ Tae is a bundle of half fear and half climbing childlike excitement, “Can we try the others?”
After that, You tear through the racks with feverish zeal, hands slicing through chiffon printed with flowers, tule fluffy and silk's soft, endless reams of pastel skirts in champagne, sunshine yellow, dove white, and lilac purple too. 
Tae quickly gains an eye for what won’t work and what will work for her. Yes to fabrics with a little stretch, no for things that might cling a little- even though she loves the satin, the ribbons, the bows, everything cute and fanciful and gorgeous.
Dress after dress, twirl after twirl. Your 'yes' pile grows and grows and grows. Giggles spill into the high ceilings as the dressing room fills with the smell of your and Tae’s happiness like freshly baking cinnamon buns.
There aren't just dresses but skirts too, mid-length ones made out of tulle that look like something out of a ballet. The feeling of tulle hanging on her thighs makes Tae feel like something otherworldly, the beautiful spider lace that crisscrosses, translucent in places but then full in one. And oh- Tae definitely shouldn't wear dark underwear with this, and that means she'll need to get more- and oh.
She's not the only one looking at the lingerie section when you dive out in search of more things to try on. You stand in front of the different racks of lingerie, the colorful sets and ones darker with crisscrossing straps. There are even one delicate with lace and tiny flowers similar but not the same to the one that Tae has at home, that has remained unworn until now.
Huh, maybe Tae should change that.  
You dive back into the dresses without even missing a beat. Tae tries on the light green dress dealing with the coldness issue by pairing it with a strawberry patterned cardigan. Your eyes light up when you see it and you tug on the edge of it. It's a chunky knit, warm and cozy without being loungewear.
Tae already knows what you want without you having to say it. Your wide eyes turned up at her lethal in their pup cuteness. "This is cute, are you gonna get it?"
"Yes" you look like you want to ask something but then Tae smiles."we can share it if you want" you hum in agreement.
Is sharing clothes something that girls do? Tae’s not sure but you smell offaly happy at that. Every time she does something more girl and more right her ribs feel less and less like a cage and more like the perfect trellis for flowers to grow up. 
Maybe it’s only something that girlfriends do, boyfriends and girlfriends share clothes, do girlfriends and girlfriends do the same? Have you dated a girl before? Did you get the chance to before you met your husband? How about a crush? 
Question after question burns through her, keeping her warm through the next set of silk skirts. Tae even finds one that pairs well with a cinched button down that might just might be work appropriate. If Tae was free to wear things like skirts to work, who knows, maybe one day she will be.
You even find a few things that you like, little pianoforte dresses and loose shifts that will let your body grow. Tae instantly yes’s a pair of knit overalls for the cuteness factor alone. Tae glows when you ask her opinion, and you shine when she asks for yours in return, a back and forth as old as time, one woman teaching another.
"The hem on this one is all weird, why does it turn up like that?" "Must be the fabric,"  "God, this one is so itchy." "If you bend over I can definitely see your ass," “isn’t that the point with mini skirts?”
The attendant takes the dresses you try on and deem unnecessary or unflattering with a grim smile each time, a smile that isn’t there when he takes them from Tae, instead a scowl takes it’s place.
She hovers at one point, stumbling over her words, the pile in her arms half forked over and half held. Fighting her shyness and finally blurting, "I like your lip gloss." with pink cheeks. After that he's much more kind. But never are there vapid comments. No snide stares when another person comes to use the fitting room.
They must get people like Tae all the time. Tae can't help but wonder, Are there others? Is the attendant one? is lipgloss the same for him as it is for Tae? 
Eventually- Tae even tries on a pair of heels at the front, thick heals that you say won’t be hard to walk in but Tae finds terribly stilt like. She teeters and almost falls into you with a giggle. You add them to the ‘yes’ pile but Tae takes them and goes to put them back.
She could honestly keep going in this store for hours, high on the feeling that the dresses give her but Tae knows that this won’t be forever. You’re already starting to wane. Not quite as excited each time you go out not that you don’t try and conceal your tiredness.
You keep stumbling into the walls when you try on things like a tired puppy. last time she tried on the pink dress you pressed your face into her back, slurred a little “pretty mommy” that made Tae laugh. Eventually- no matter her energy, you’ll have to put on your clothes and go back home.
Tae doesn't mind doing that for you, not one bit. It doesn't occur to her for a moment to feel disappointed. This day couldn't last forever, but that doesn't mean this can't become a new part of your routine the same way makeup did. You said earlier that you’d do this every week with her if she wanted it, every day too.
Well- maybe not every day, but maybe every other one, she could probably convince you to do that.
She doesn't even realize that she's still wearing the dress when she goes to put back the shoes. Too lost in thought and too happy to realize the sudden thoughtlessness of her actions. Tae is for the first time- unselfconscious about herself and what she wears.
She was so worried about trying on the dresses and now they feel like a second skin.
The cream fabric moves easily with her body as she winds through the aisles. She puts them back in their spot on the shelf making sure the box is closed properly and everything’s in its place. 
Tae casts a glance around the store. This place, this place is so special, if there are spaces like this where people like Tae can be free if only for a few hours then she should take care to look after it well.
Tae’s walking back to you, letting her hips swish and appreciating the way that the fabric feels against her hips when it happens. 
She loves the way the dress moves, the way the puffy skirt bobs and sways with every turn of her body, so she puts more hip into it, staring down and not up at where she’s going.
She hits the clothing rack with a loud clang, narrowly grabbing it before it teeters and topples over. Almost falling over before it rights it’s self with a loud thump, one or two of the dresses sliding off.  
Laughter joins the sound of the metal hangers clinking. Tae’s head shoots up.
There is a group of alphas and omegas, all women except for one young male omega who preens and glances up at the tallest, an alpha from the smell of her a few feet away by the checkout counter. One of their companions’ walks, the stomping comical shoulders hunched.
Their smiles fall when they glance Tae’s way and find her watching, but the damage is already done.
Her cheeks are flaming, and Tae’s skin is crawling from their stares, their derision, and embarrassment. She turns, intent on slinking away and letting it go.
She turns but stops dead in her tracks, because you’re standing in the middle of the isle with a stare that could cleave the world in two.
You’ve seen enough, heard the laughter and saw the way that her shoulders slumped, felt the sudden fading of her scent in your bones. The alpha across the room with her satisfied smirk makes you want to punch something.
You see red. 
You’re not proud of what you do next, but maybe you should be. You are soft by nature and feral by choice. People don’t just lose their fight when they no longer need it. It lurks in your bones, not a monster but not a pet; something half between tamed and untamed.
You stalk over to her, your dress swishing around your knees riding up with every step. It’s the only darker number that you’d tried on today- a deep almost black red that looks devilish after sticking to pastels. But even Tae has to admit that black is sort of your color.
You whip past Tae even though she says your name, She tries to grab your arm but you shake it off, Tae’s eyes subconsciously drift downwards as she watches you walk away. Your hips swaying in a way that would make even the most betrothed alphas' eyes linger.
The anger rolls off of you in waves, and Tae chokes on the scent of rain- but the kind of rainstorm that makes you worry that your house will fall over, that tells of thunder and lightning. Of hurricanes that flood and waters that take.
Their conversation quiets when you near. Anger climbing higher and higher, You jab a finger in Tae’s direction.
“Apologize to her. Now.”
The alpha scoffs, looking once down at you surprised, and then glaring in Tae’s direction the next. A look that clearly says alphas should control their omegas. You barely come up to the alpha's chin, but with the way you hold yourself, you could be mountains tall.
"I'm waiting, or are you too socially constipated to string a few words together?" Tae has never heard you sound like this before, your voice flat. 
You’ve seen alphas like this before- female alphas that think it's their job to act like they own femininity, alphas that think possessing it and giving it takes something away from others and gives them power. You’re so tired of it. You're tired of people like this that think it’s their right to take happiness from others.
"Look, it's not my fault that your alpha’s messing up the place, I swear- men think that they can get away with everything-"
Without thinking about it you lunge for one of their bags, sitting on one of the benches meant for people to try on shoes. You upend it quickly, letting everything inside of it clatter to the floor. A tube of lipstick rolls away and under one of the racks. One of the omegas squawks and quickly bends down, but the alpha stops them with a hand on their arm, eyes narrowing. 
Your smile is satisfied, "There- how's that for a mess?” you toss the bag at their feet with a satisfied smile. “Why don't you clean up your own attitude before you bother with ours."
Tae fights the feeling of being half impressed and half scared of your dramatic flare, and watches as the scent of you hits the alpha and they flinch. They growl, and Tae steps to your side. Hand out, almost ready to put you behind her.
Because even if you’re the one who came to Tae’s defense, there is no way that Tae’s going to let another alpha growl at you- transphobic comments or not.
Her companions share a nervous glance. “What?” the alpha growls, “what did you just say to me?” she bristles but you don’t back down, stepping around Tae’s arm like it’s not even there.
Your voice is little more than a hiss, “Could you not hear me through your last two brain cells dying? Apologize. To. Her. Now preferably before I stop being impatient and start being pissed off. And I promise you- you don’t want to see me angry.”
The alpha splutters, “This isn’t some movie omega- You can’t just act and say something like that to me, so no- I’m not going to apologize for saying that the Tran-”
The slap is echoic in the nearly empty shop, more shocking than your hiss and snarl that accompanies it. 
The alpha blinks down at you, her cheek bright red. One of her seconds immediately tries to come to her rescue but before they can Tae is dragging you back by an arm around your hip, only a lifetime of stopping Jimin from getting into fights to thank for her quick reaction time.
You shake your hand, skin stinging with the memory of the slap.
The same attendant that’s been helping you for a whole afternoon comes running at the sound of the confrontation and the woman at the front finally stops turning through her magazine. The drumming of her manicured nails against the countertop stop too.
The group watches the attendant, looking at his boss at the counter for what to do. The moment of quiet unpunctuated by any action. No one moves, no one breathes. 
“Well!? aren’t you going to throw her out! she just! Assaulted me! Aren’t you going to do anything?!” the alpha cries, clutching her cheek while her companions fuss over her. Your smile is satisfied. 
The attendant looks little more than tired, like people fighting in the store is the last thing he expected to have to deal with this shift.
Tae wouldn’t know the woman at the front desk was a beta unless he had already smelled what Yoongi smelled like and was intimately aware of the cool kind of pressure at his nose. The kind of cold feeling that comes when you smell things like mint with an undercurrent of blackberry that assaults his nostrils and yours, making your shoulders slump.
The beta raises her eyebrows but her eyes don’t leave the magazine. She flips a page not paying obvious attention to your two groups but Taehyung knows better.
 “Oh I heard what you said perfectly, we don’t serve transphobes in my establishment.” Tae watches the betas Addams apple bob as she swallows back a sigh.
“It’s a free country, I can say what I want.”
The beta licks her fingers and turns a page, not looking up at the alpha nor engaging with her vitriol, “freedom of speech only protects you from the law not the consequences of your actions. I reserve the right to do whatever I want in my shop.”
She flicks the last page closed, she must be in her late forties with streaks of grey in her hair. She peers over the edge of her book again, as if she's surprised to find the group still there after letting her words stew for a few seconds.  
“Get lost before I call the cops,” the group turns to leave, the small omega male sniffling, but the woman slams her magazine down on the counter with a loud twack, making them all flinch. “You also might want to take the trinkets out of your bag too- or else I’ll get you for shoplifting too.”
They leave the earrings on the counter and rush out, one of them tosses an insult in your direction as they leave and you start in their direction before Tae catches you around your waist. Hissing "leave it" that you finally obey, a tiny puppy with sharp teeth finally leashed.
(You and Jimin have one thing in common; neither of you mind being a guard pup, especially when it comes to protecting cinnamon soft Tae)
You and Tae navigate back to the changing room in a silent daze, the attendant trailing behind And Tae closes the door softly behind her.
You flex your hand, still bright red and stinging. You struggle with the delicate zipper of your dress for a moment, finally freeing yourself from it after yanking it hard and huffing, wrenching it over your shoulders, your hair all messed up.
“fucking God- I hate people like that- I hate-” You give it a kick, knocking the dress back into the pile of no’s- and Tae can’t stop looking at you, you don’t seem to notice. Trying to put the dress back on the hanger but giving up with a huff. Your hands still shake too much, trembling in anger.
You breathe through your teeth trying to calm down, your anger is maybe disproportionate and maybe appropriate. Tae’s heart is in her throat as she watches you angry enough to hiss on her behalf. Hissing is the ultimate show of aggression from an omega and it’s not easy, your voice is husky, hissed raw like you’d been talking or shouting for hours from just a simple hiss.
“God- I’m still so-“ you seem to realize that Tae hasn’t said anything looking back to where she’s leaning up against the door, palms pressed flat to the velvet walls to hold herself in place. Your face fades from feral to concerned in about 2 seconds flat when you spot her drawn expression. Too pale.
“Tae? What's wrong?” She screws her eyes shut, thinking that if she’s not looking at you it will be easier to ignore the rapid thumping of her heart.
Time and time again when they were children, Jimin always stood up for him, always got angry on his behalf and Tae never understood why. Even you- Tae has seen you flinch when one of them put a cup down too heavily in front of you and yet even though you were shaking like a leaf you still defended her.
And that is everything.
Tae opens her eyes and finds you watching her, maybe it’s the dim lighting that makes her brave or your own bravery that has latched onto Tae. If you can be brave for Tae then she can be brave for you. She can address this tension- the one that you’ve both known is there every time you do things like this, every time Tae bears her pink butterfly soul to you and you hold it.
You- you called Tae ‘her’ 
“Apologize to her.”
The words run laps around her mind, a needle that sows your name onto her heart in the prettiest of pink threads right next to Jimin’s name stitched in red. (Are soulmate bonds only a red string of fate? why not a pink string of fate too?)
Tae has never been called her or she by anyone before. No one has ever looked at her and thought yes- that’s a woman, that’s a girl. But you- you had and she hadn’t even had to say anything to you. You understand Tae in a way that Tae has never been understood, even by the people who have loved her for years.
Tae has always worried this part of her would be too hard to love and you make it look so easy Tae's almost tempted to try and love herself too.
"Every time, every time I think it will be easy you make it difficult."
Your eyebrows knit together, not understanding her words. you take a shaky step forward. "Tae- what are you saying?" suddenly looking less sure on your feet. 
Tae’s voice is rougher and lower than she wants it to be. “Every time. Every time I think I can’t fall in love with you anymore you go and do something like that- and fuck I know this shouldn’t be the point of this- I know we have other things to talk about but- but you’re hot when you're angry.” Tae confesses a low heat burning in her belly, curling and unfurling like a vine to wrap around her being, wanting burning low like coals on a dying fire.
She presses her palms against the velvet lining of the changing room to keep herself tethered, to keep her from going to the other side of the room and doing untold things to you. It’s an awfully small changing room. She can't remember why she thought it was large, not even miles or acres of land would be enough to stop her wanting for you. You barely have to shift to enter her space.
But the confession of how hot she finds you isn’t what hits you, not when you’re standing in your underthings and Tae is standing in her pretty cream dress.
“You love me Tae? You do?”
Her eyelashes flutter like small butterfly kisses against her cheeks, “yes, is that okay?” you step forward a little shaky, but also sure you’ve never been surer of someone than you’ve been of Tae.
You’re two paces back a scant 3 feet between staying as you are and becoming something more if you want it. (Is this how sailor moon feels before she makes her magical girl transformation? just a twirl, kiss, and a magic wand away from becoming some great hero and sparkling and so beautiful?)
You've never been someone's hero before, but you think you could be Tae's if slapping that idiot didn't solidify it.
She makes a noise and it stops you in your tracks. Tae's eyes are the dark eyes of an alpha that wants, her instincts a hair closer to the surface than they were minutes ago.  
“If you take another step closer- I don’t know if I can-” Tae’s voice is straining with desire, the growl that she speaks through a pleased one. Her whole body stiff. 
Your body freezes, trembling like a fawn that has sensed a wolf. And then you take another step towards her and then another. Your feet make no noise on the carpet- then another and another until you are nearly touching, her feet between her feet. Nearly have your chest pressed against hers.
You raise your eyebrow at her as if in taunting
“That sounds like a challenge I’d like to test mommy," You add it for good measure, a hushed word, the one that Tae can feel to her very core, the thing that truly makes her fold-
She can hold herself back no longer. Tae's lips crash upon yours, cacophonies and symphonies and stories are hot at the tip of her tongue as she kisses you. scoops you up and presses you into the velvet wall. 
Fuck- Tae is a good kisser, not gentle but not rough, she must have learned from years and years of practice kissing the pack. her lips tease at hers, Her palms are anything but chaste when she grips your hips hands suddenly hungry to feel your body, to learn the imprints of your waist on her palms and mold them to hold you better. 
It’s all you can do to thread your hands through her short hair and tug her closer, the two of you stumbling back until you hit a different velvet wall with a loud thud. Tae struggling and failing to pick you up and pin you to it, press her body all along hers, your chest squishing pressed hard. 
Your hands slide down her chest, fumbling with the delicate fabric of the dress she’s wearing, tugging the straps over her shoulders unintentionally, the silky fabric under your hands delicious, just feeling and touching her in it the way you've wanted to do since she put it on.
And god- Tae- Tae feels so warm, kissing her is nothing like kissing Yoongi or Jin or any of the other packmates. It’s sweet and hot and her lips are sticky. Tae kisses like sugar burns. Breaths and sighs bubbling close to the surface for you to swallow whole.
You’re so soft under Tae’s fingertips, her fingers that grip under your ass cheeks.
Your moan surprises both of you, echoing in the empty dressing room. It shakes you both out of your stupor and you clamp your palm over your lips. Tae’s shy, she feels dizzy, but she grins, one part abashed at what she’s done and another part relived to look down and find you giggly and smiling. Foreheads pressed together, her long hair tangling with yours longer.
A loud thumping punctuates the changing room door, a fist banging the door, it’s not the attendant but the owner- “hey! Just because I didn’t throw you out doesn’t mean you can fuck in my changing room!”
Your lips separate with a pop, “We’re not! Uhm, doing that- Sorry!” Tae calls, voice straining. The owner is tapping her foot and waiting expectantly when you exit the door with flushed faces and embarrassed grimaces both in your clothes and not in the dresses. But the weight of her glare is nothing with your hand in hers. Tae holds your hand, firmly, but delicately like it’s the most special thing.
In the end, you end up buying a dozen items apiece racking up an impressive tally that you swipe your card at no matter tae's protest. Minnies card remains regretfully unused- though Tae's not sure he could have resisted using it after grimacing at the tally and wincing. 
The older woman doesn’t check you out herself, instead having the youth do it. Casting an impressed glance at you before she takes 15% off your tally.
The many dress bags you carry on your way home crinkle like falling stars, you and Tae are knit close as you file inside the house, food in your stomach from a little sandwich shop that Tae just had to take you too to get some food in your belly and frozen yogurt that was made sweeter with kisses over the small round tables. 
Both of your lips are rubbed raw from kissing in the car, kissing in line at the shop, kissing over plates of kaiser rolls and something called a Tuscany sandwich that was a little too vinegary for your tastes. 
You'd stayed out late, long enough that Jungkook's home from his classes. Tae is half worried that the pack can tell what you’ve been doing when you walk in.  Can they tell when they see the two of you? That she’d pulled you nearly into her lap in the car and kissed you silly? until you’d said That you should stop before things got anymore intense.
Now that Tae's had a taste of you, she's worried she might never get enough.
If the pack alpha knew that Tae had managed to kiss you before him, what would he think and do? Would Namjoon be jealous of Tae? Sweet Namjoonie, with his strong jaw that flexes when he tips his head against the couch, staring at you two upside down when you walk though the door.
Your held hands are made inconvenient only by the sheer number of bags between the two of you. Namjoon eyes them with a low whistle. "Wow, someone had fun today."
But it's genuine, and he smiles up at you breathing in deep the smell of you two greedily. A look over the edge of the couch has you spying jungkook’s head in his lap, his feet in Jin’s. He’s always extra tired after kickboxing, his hair falls over his head wet, his body cleaned of sweat. 
Yoongi and Hobi make dinner, standing just a little too close in the kitchen. Jimin stares at the number of bags appreciatively from his spot sitting on the counter. But squawks when Tae admits they hadn't used his card, bickering between kisses, Tae's mood so bright that even their earlier discomfort can't find breathing room.
She hasn’t felt dysphoric since the comments, even in her boy clothes standing there being kissed by Minnie. Tae has a feeling she’ll keep feeling this good so long as you stand in the room. The physical reminder that Tae is loved, Tae is loved, Tae Tae is loved for who she is.
Her soulmate gives an appreciative sniff at how happy she is, eyes going up and down like he’s surprised that she’s smelling so good as Tae moves to stand between his legs.  But then a second later he scents you on the air and it’s finished, Jimin’s smile is a knowing one. Mischief in his eyes that says ‘we’ll talk about those kisses later.’ Even as he licks into Tae's mouth searching for a hint of you and finding many.
Tae’s not disappointed or worried that Jimin knows about the kisses just by looking; Afterall- there has only ever been one secret that Tae has successfully hidden from Jimin.
After the bags are dropped by the door, to be unpacked and hung up in your room later you mill about in the kitchen, Tae and Minnie huddled close, Jimin sending you thankful looks every minute while you dart next to your mate eager to taste his lips.
Not that Tae's kisses aren't fantastic but kissing Yoongi always feels like coming home. Your mate gives a deep hum in hello, tolerating you wrapping your arms around his waist before he whines that the oil could splash and burn you.
You detangle yourself from him and pout, going to bother Hobi instead though your greeting is less romantic, “What are you making?” Hobi describes what he’s doing, stirring the thick sauce in the pan while Yoongi fiddles with his frying mushrooms for Kookie. Jin’s already got your meal plan written out on a little sticky note, the beginnings of it portioned out on a plate too.
“I uhm- I actually ate with Tae already.” 
Namjoon’s head lifts, so does Jungkook’s, apparently woken to join the land of the living, “what?”
Jin looks at you over the edge of his glasses, “Baby-“ he starts leaning over the back of the couch. Putting them to the side before beckoning you to come close so he can touch and soothe what he assumes is your food-related anxieties.
You go, but before he can start with his usual spiel Tae pipes up, “she did Jin,” Jin’s cheeks are pink with surprise, the slow smile on his face growing with his happiness. He pecks a kiss on your cheek then your lips. You melt a little and Jin’s hands finds a familiar spot on your lower back. His purr appreciative.
“My good babies eating their fill, did you have any luck today? Did you find things you liked?” Jimin may have mentioned your plight to Jin and Namjoon earlier when it was just the five of them, as justification for why you weren't home when they arrived. 
You don't know that you'd nearly sent the pack alpha looking for you- but Jin suspects Yoongi will tease him about it in front of you just to prove a point before the night is over.
Your eyes aren’t on the bags by the door but on Tae. Her hair as it falls over her forehead staring at you from the confines of Minnie’s arms as the other alpha reclines against his soulmates chest.
She gulps. Jin notices your stare at her across the room, and Tae’s cheeks warm.
“Yes, I got everything I wanted.”
~-~
Bonus content: Bily look book; a glimpse into the style of tae and the m/c
~-~
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kthyg · 5 months ago
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i. DECEPTION | JJK [M]
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You are irreplaceable in his life, and so is he in yours.
Mayhap, it's time to change that. The moment he aimed his gun at your head, where the trigger could go off at any second; there, you immediately knew you are very much replaceable. So you take matters into your own hands; walk out of his life and away from him as soon as your work contract with him ended.
But Jungkook hates not having your presence near him, and who said you get to walk out his life just like that? You promised not to leave him.
So, why did you break the promise?
or
Plethora of deception.
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PAIRING : Jungkook x Reader
GENRE : Dark Romance, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers (sort of), Drama, Action : Gang AU
RATING : Mature
DISCLAIMER : This story is a work of fiction. Description of the BTS members in this story does not reflect nor portray them in real life. Everything in this story only fits in imagination and does not apply outside of imagination.
WORD COUNT : 9k+
NEXT
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MASTERPOST | MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION
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AUTHOR NOTE :
hellooo !! this series was previously titled as “Irreplaceable” under another account which was deleted, this version is rewritten and fit to my (current) type of writing.
if you’ve read Irreplaceable, then you’re already aware of what’s coming up until chapter 3 and since there’s no significant changes made to the story (or maybe there are like something about yn’s personality but you be the judge of it) so you can choose to wait until I post chapter 4 or you can reread this rewritten version :)
banner idea from the loml, lee <3 (originally, it’s supposed to be red theme and then blue and finally be suggested this type of banner, it’s lovely i’m proud of my last product ㅠㅠ)
likewise, every story of mine is proofread by Grammarly (enough to correct any grammar mistakes, if there’s still some errors, turn a blind eye ayee?) andd beta-read by @leemien
WARNINGS : This chapter deals with mild violence and inaccurate information and management about certain things. If you’re not comfortable with it then exit this page immediately.
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DEDICATION : To my old self as you are the reason the story exists and to my present self as you have rewritten it.
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Past. 
    The sky was exceptionally beautiful today—or maybe it has always been beautiful but you just didn’t pay much attention.
    The gentle rays and the summer breeze were everything you need in the name of seeking calmness. Today was another day of your escapades with Jungkook. His father along with his mother was out of town for some business. Jungkook’s parents have assigned guards and tight security for us but that doesn’t stop us from having our freedom.
    The grass under you moved in steady waves accompanied by the sweet song of crickets and the chirps of birds as you sat next to Jungkook and pulled your knees to your chest, your chin resting on top of them. Jungkook turned his head as he stared at the side view of your face. Your eyes were lost in admiration of the scenery ahead of you.
    “Will you ever leave me?”
    You raised your head at your friend’s sudden question.
    “Hmm,” you playfully tap your chin as if you’re pondering seriously over his simple question. “Maybe not in this life, Kook.” You giggled. 
    It’s a promise, you told yourself. If you were given two options and one of them was leaving him then you’ll choose the other option. Leaving him would never be an option. 
    “Promise?” He asked his eyes that held an entire galaxy looking at you hopefully as he extended his pinky at you.
    “Only if you promise to not leave me.” You told him.
    You stared at him, your pinky was already extended to him, waiting for him to seal the promise with you. Jungkook didn’t ruminate about it as he intertwined his pinky with yours, a wide smile tugging on his lips. 
    “Promise.” Sweet little promise. 
    But how could you not know that promises are meant to be broken and how easy it is to break likely more than one because promises are empty words. 
Present. 
    “You’ve done your part. Get out of this house, (Y/N).”
    Because now? Leaving him is a choice.
    It’s the voice you are familiar with albeit it has changed a bit over time as he matures, his voice drops a pitch lower. The owner of the voice stands confidently at the entrance to your bedroom in his black three-piece suit that is pressed to a T and his hair is styled with care. 
    It’s none other than Jeon Jungkook. 
    It’s a choice to walk out of his life because you either walk out of the door and out of his life or he’ll walk the life out of your body. 
    This man - who has always been against the idea of you leaving the house without him - is now asking, no, verbally forcing you to get out of his house. His voice can be very cold, demanding even. His calm demeanour can fool anyone but dare mess with him, there’s no mercy. You’ve been by his side for years now, you are supposed to be numb to it because growing up with him didn’t raise you to be a weak bitch. 
    But this time, just this time, you can’t help but feel a tug on your heart. It’s the painful feeling of knowing how easy it is for Jungkook to get rid of you after years simply because of your one mistake and yet you still hope that he’s bluffing, that this is just a joke - but Jungkook doesn’t do jokes - you still hold onto that promise but news flash, he breaks his promise. 
    You know it’s time. It’s the time for you to finally leave, to finally be free. Your time is up.
    Your punishment is over. 
    “With pleasure, Jungkook.” Your voice is soft as the smile you had always worn tugs on your lips. 
    The look on his face shows that he is taken aback by your tone and the smile you had on your face which you sure differ from what he had thought of.
    He shouldn’t.
    You had always been the one to never question him, never question his action and his decision, always complying with his words but little did he know, walking out of his house would be no sooner said than done if that means freedom to you, out of his confinement. 
    Let’s go back to the basics, shall we?
    First question, are you in a relationship with Jungkook? No.
    Not even in a complicated relationship? For Jungkook, no.
    For you, yes. 
    You are nothing but a punching bag for Jungkook - Not literally.
    The relationship between you and him was destroyed seven months ago. Today, seven months ago was the day your freedom got taken away, you sealed a deal with the devil but today, you manage to pay for your sins. Jungkook throws the relationship both of you had cherished since the age of nine out of the window after that one mistake you made seven months ago.
    You would say your relationship with Jungkook is strained but Jungkook would say it’s nonexistent, it doesn't exist anymore. 
    Growing up with him for almost 13 years, you both tend to care for each other despite everything but Jungkook stopped caring since 7 months ago, in contrast to you who still care until now - Which also happens to be the reason why you were stuck here -  that’s why his next sentence caught you off guard. 
    “Where are you going to stay?” He asks as if his cold mask slips for a moment. 
    Your mind must be playing with you - blame it on the lack of sleep - why does he care? You let silence be the only language in the room for a moment before you finally speak with a controlled voice, you try not to appear weak and small in this situation. Back then you always had the right of either answering or staying quiet but for the past couple of months, you’ve been answering to his order, you either answer or… answer.
    Your right to speak for yourself is taken away and trampled on so you answer with what was expected to be the answer but now you’re not tied to Jungkook in any way anymore. If Jungkook expects to have his answer from you, especially at this time, then he’s wrong. You’re not going to answer him with what he expected to hear. 
    “Rika has returned and the contract automatically ends,” you tell him. “Which means my life after is none of your concern.” 
    You didn’t spare a glance on Jungkook as your only focus right now is to walk out of this house before Jungkook changes his mind - which is unlikely to happen but one can never be sure and it’s better safe than sorry - Your movements are hasty as you shove your necessities into your luggage.
    If you are to follow your heart, you’d just walk out without bringing anything other than a phone and purse but luckily you always think and make decisions following what your brain thinks is the best. 
    The last time you followed your heart, you got yourself into chaos. 
    Jungkook is silent. He didn’t even utter a word after you but he also didn’t walk out of the room like you thought he would after completing his mission of telling you to get out of his house but instead he just watches you. His dark brown eyes follow your every movement. You don’t need to lift and turn your head to him to see that he is doing so.
    You can feel his gaze on you. You’re familiar with the feeling of his gaze on you, looking at you out of hatred, anger and vengeance. 
    Only for now.
    Soon you’ll forget the feeling of having his eyes on you. You did enjoy having his eyes on you, watching your movements literally every minute, every second for the last 7 months but now, his eyes are going to be on another woman, back to the rightful one. 
    Rika.
    You pull your luggage and stride towards the door. You’re grateful that Jungkook let you stay in his house instead of locking you up in his basement but you’ll leave every bad thing behind in this very house and you’ll bring only the good ones - though there are not many, almost little to nothing— and start anew. You had even considered going for rebirth but maybe no, not now. 
    It’s the end of the chapter and the beginning of a new chapter. 
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    Your feet betray you. You aren’t supposed to be in front of this oh so familiar door but you are here, there’s absolutely no reason for you to avoid meeting this particular person but you just can’t bring yourself to face her when you are clearly planning to leave the country without telling her. 
    “(Y/N)!”
    The door swings open and you watch as the owner of the voice smiles gleefully upon your arrival. You mirror her excitement as she opens her arms, inviting you for a hug. After your mother, this lady has always been your safe place, the person you seek comfort and love. She treats you like a daughter she never had and you treat her like a queen. 
    “Aunt Binna,” her name comes out as a soft whisper as you melt in her arms. After the incident in Jungkook’s house, this is the only thing you need, a hug. A hug that only she can provide. 
    Aunt’s hand comes up to caress your back before she breaks the hug and invites you in. She runs back to her kitchen to turn off the stove - which she almost forgot she had it on - and returns to the living room. 
    You observe her living room, empty and quiet living room. It became a habit - that you pick up from Jungkook - for you to observe your surroundings, despite being at a certain place ever so often.
    Jeon Binna, wife of Jeon Junghoon. A renowned fashion and interior designer who’s married to the business tycoon; the CEO of Jeon enterprise, Jeon Junghoon and the marriage was blessed with a son, no other than Jeon Jungkook.  
    Aunt Binna lives alone after her husband died. Aunt lives in a penthouse, 50-story luxury apartment, the highest floor, yes there. She lives in luxury, bathes in it even but loneliness still takes over sometimes. Jungkook is busy and so are you. You could only visit her at certain times which is when Jungkook gets a call from her to come to visit her and bring you along.
    The owner of this building used to be her late husband but since her husband has died, the ownership has been passed to her as stated in his will but she doesn’t want to involve herself in the business world at her age. She offered Jungkook the ownership but at that moment, he said he already had a lot on his plate so it’s better for her to keep it first, once things get less hectic, he’ll take over. His mother agreed and last month, he finally stepped in. 
    From your peripheral vision, you notice that Aunt is scrutinising you. Surely, she must’ve noticed the pale look on your face since you didn’t have the time to put on some makeup to cover the tiredness on your face. After leaving Jungkook’s house, you were in your car when you got a call from Aunt Binna and your feet just pressed the pedal and brought you here immediately - blame it on your strong nature to comply with her wish - hence, here you are, bared and tired. 
    Aunt takes a seat next to you on the couch as she takes your hand in her warm ones. You are met with her worried eyes. “Honey, are you okay? Is everything good? You look so pale.”
    No. I just got kicked out by your son. 
    “Yes, I’m good and everything is fine, don’t worry. Just a bit tired from work is all,” you tell her.
    You didn’t lie though, it’s true that work has been exhausting you to no end but all your hard work has paid off now that you’ve done your part as per what Jungkook said. But you see, Aunt Binna is a very sceptical person. The look on her face clearly says ‘I know everything's not fine but I’m going to let this slide because you are tired and that’s exactly what she said before changing the topic. 
    “I’ve cooked dinner for us, let’s eat?” 
    Having meals at Aunt’s house, especially dinner when the sun is setting down, has a special spot within you. Aunt Binna had an open view dining room which gives people a view that is nothing short of magnificent and breathtaking. It’s a cherry on top with the interior design of her dining room. It doesn’t shock you when you get to know that Aunt designed and decorated her whole house. Aunt Binna is a famous designer - interior design and fashion design that is. 
    The maids are coming in and out of the dining room to prepare the table with mouth-watering dishes that you are sure are cooked by Aunt herself. Apart from being good at designing, Aunt is a master at cooking. You had always loved her cooking that you would literally eat anything as long as it’s cooked by her and luckily Aunt had no problem with cooking for you. She would be more than glad to prepare a whole buffet for you. 
    Once all of the maids exit the hall, the two of you take a seat opposite each other. Your face brightens up at your view - the mouthwatering dishes - and Aunt notices it as she chuckles. “I cooked your favourite, Honey.”
    A maid comes in with a bottle of wine in her hands, she pours for Aunt before coming to you. As the maid leaves, Aunt Binna starts a conversation. 
    “When are you planning on getting married to Jungkook?”
    Bless your soul, you are lucky you haven’t started eating nor drinking because you would’ve choked - though you did choke on your saliva. You clear your throat and reach for the wine glass. Sometimes you forget that Aunt Binna had made it her mission to set you and Jungkook in marriage ever since you both were 15. 
    “We’re not even dating, Aunt,” your lips immediately touch the rim of the wine glass as the fruity liquid fills your taste bud wanting nothing more than to not converse with this topic again. 
    “Mhm, keep telling me that, Hon.” Aunt teases. “You guys grew up under the same roof for years, you know him better than any other woman and I know my son had a little crush on you back then.”
    Yeah, that’s back then. It’s past tense. Present? He hates me to the core. 
    “No other woman knows how to take care of Jungkook like you do, (Y/N) and I’ve seen the way he looks at you with a passionate gaze every time the two of you come to visit me. His gaze is on you as if you would disappear the moment he took his eyes off of you.”
    You mean a passionate gaze of malice and his gaze is always on you to serve as a warning to not do anything that shouldn’t be done. 
    “You helped him so much after his father’s death and not to mention even back then when his father was alive. You did more than I could ever, (Y/N). It would be great to see the two of you get together.” She smiles warmly at you. You see the shining hope in her eyes that you didn’t have the heart to crush it but you know you have to, sooner or later. 
    “Rika is not the problem right? She ran away months ago and I’m sure he’s over her.”
    At the mention of Jungkook’s lover, you freeze. Eyes looking over to Aunt Binna only to see her staring at you intently, waiting for you to respond.
    “It’s great that my existence in his life is appreciated and made an impact on him but,” you sigh. “He only sees me as a friend and nothing more, Aunt Binna.”
    Or you could say, “as a friend” was months ago because now, your relationship with Jungkook is nothing more or less than a pure boss and employee relationship. 
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Past. 
    “Welcome!”
    A saleswoman greeted you and Jungkook with a huge smile on her face, her red lips made her pearl white teeth shine brightly. You mirrored her enthusiasm as you smiled and nodded at her, acknowledging her presence and effort.
    Jungkook walked into the boutique without minding the saleswoman and straight to what he’s here for, suits are what. You quickly trailed behind him and called the previous saleswoman to assist Jungkook. 
    “Pick something for me,” he ordered you. 
    It has become a routine for you now to pick out some suits for Jungkook. The man didn’t argue with your choice as he simply paid for everything you had picked for him. The only time Jungkook got involved in picking was when it came to you, your items. He would pick everything for you and you would, likewise, just go with it though at least he picked out items according to your taste and type.
    The nicely tailored suits were hung on metal bars in expensive wood open wardrobes, all of them were sorted out by colour codes and types of fabric. You knew what type of fabric Jungkook preferred as well as what colour suited him the most and the ones that he personally liked.
    Jungkook is the epitome of perfection and nothing short of perfect in any department. Face? Body? Talent? Skills? He’s nothing short of those and was a walking perfection. In this case, anything he wore would look good on him and honestly at this point, what’s the point of you choosing suits for him when he literally could just buy the whole store because he rocked every piece of clothing. 
    “Your girlfriend got a great taste, sir.” The saleswoman commented, making you freeze. You looked over your shoulder to see Jungkook’s reaction, you know well he doesn’t like it when people talk about his girlfriend - which is obviously not you - and you most definitely know he doesn’t like it when the “girlfriend” the saleswoman had referred to was you.
    He was frowning as he lifted his gaze from his phone. 
    The saleswoman noticed the tension so she immediately corrected herself, “Oh, I mean your friend! Your friend got a great taste, sir…”
    God, please blind your eyes because you wished you weren’t looking at Jungkook when the saleswoman corrected herself because immediately you saw the hate and malice grew in his irises when he heard the saleswoman.
    To say your heart was crushed by his reaction was a vast understatement but then again you had betrayed him, betrayed his trust so you should’ve expected this reaction from him but it didn’t stop you from feeling painful heartache. 
    “She’s my assistant.” He corrected her with a glare and returned to his phone, probably reading and sorting out his emails.
    The saleswoman gasped and looked over you sheepishly as she muttered an apology. She did the same to Jungkook but he barely acknowledged it. You waved it off with a kind smile. 
    He had thrown the term friendship out of his life. 
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Present. 
    “… and you know how deeply in love he is with Rika, he won’t be over her in such a short period,” you add. “But maybe he won’t be thinking about love at this time, he’s been quite busy lately - with business it is.” 
    Handling the underground business and his company at the same time could be tiring and now that Rika is back and you are resigning from your position as the CEO’s personal assistant, he ought to get busier with no assistant. You just hope by now Jungkook had already selected a few candidates with the potential to fill in your place. 
    ��Oh, and I’m leaving the country soon,” you apprise her with a pretty smile adorning your face. You are excited to finally fly out of the country and meet your friend which is long overdue. 
    But oh you are unaware of how the air has changed as the dear aunt’s face drops. 
    “Whatever do you mean, (Y/N)?”
    The loss of the cheerful tone in her voice as it is replaced with seriousness makes you shift in your seat.  It’s a pity that the dear mother has no knowledge of the contract you had signed with Jungkook. He has been keeping you around only for a purpose and only that which is to find and bring back Rika.
    It’s safe to say that Jungkook had to lie to his mother - to keep you around him - stating that you are staying at his house because of important work. It’s a relief that Aunt believes it and she’s more than happy to have you stay close with them or specifically, Jungkook since your apartment is a bit far away from their housing area albeit it’s still near Jeon Enterprise.
    Aunt knows that you are a close friend of Jungkook along with Taehyung and of course, she knows that you work with Jungkook even with the underground business he’s handling. You are involved in everything Jungkook is involved in, creepy much but it is what it is. The two of you are joined at the hip since kids. 
    In Aunt’s view, you are the backbone of Jungkook that the man has yet to realise its true worth. 
    You didn’t want to tell the truth to Aunt because, one, you cannot, two, what good will come out of you telling her about it. Honestly, you’ve known what the consequences of your action would be seven months ago, you didn’t commit such actions without knowing the consequences and you certainly have no intention of dragging other people into your mess. You started the chaos and you’re going to end it all by yourself. 
    “My work contract with Jeon Enterprise has come to an end and I don’t intend on renewing it.”
    “Why so?”
    “Planning to pamper myself by travelling,” you grin to yourself. 
    It’s been long overdue, your wish is. If it wasn’t for the incident seven months ago, you would’ve been travelling around the world by now. 
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    It’s been a week since Rika has arrived. She has been staying at Jungkook’s place. It’s also a week after she had learned that you used to stay at Jungkook’s place but later on was kicked out. 
    Aunt Binna had finally decided to pay his son a visit - something she rarely does unless it's an important and urgent matter - after she’s done accompanying you with your shopping and fulfilling your needs for the vacation you had yearned for, though it takes a lot of convincing because you are keen on declining Aunt’s inclination to spend her money on you. 
    The destination of your vacation remains unknown to Aunt Binna. She had asked you once but you didn’t want to tell her. This vacation you seek is to breathe fresh air after long being caged and now that you finally gain your freedom, it’s only natural that you don’t want people to know of your whereabouts. 
    As for Jungkook, he is rather… anxious. 
    Now that you are out of his house, it’s hard to keep an eye on your whereabouts. He tries reaching out for you from calling to as far as leaving texts and emails - it is not something usual for him to do so because he always had you right under his nose - but it’s just either it didn’t reach you or you’re ignoring him.
    The latter assumption isn’t very convincing given that you never ignore him but the stunt he pulled the other day mayhap changed your attitude towards him. He didn’t blame you for the cold shoulder you’re giving him right now but he’s really anxious. True that he kicked you out of his house but it didn’t mean for you to walk out of his life. 
    His cold personality is nothing new to you, you practically grew up with him and his many flaws - one being having an aloof personality -  so why does this time seem to affect you?
    Simple,
    Because his efforts aren’t really seen by you. 
    Aunt Binna had given you a new phone as a gift since you are adamant about not wanting to be bothered during your vacation albeit that’s camouflage because the truth being Aunt is making sure that Jungkook couldn’t reach you.
    Honestly, you didn’t think of not wanting to be bothered as far as changing contact numbers and phone but Aunt did manage to convince you that it’s more peaceful that way. She understands that you need to breathe fresh air at some point and clear your mind. 
    Aunt Binna stares through the car’s window as the sun washes the garden with a golden glow, insects and birds are thriving in the garden maximally. It’s the garden which she vividly remembers that it’s you who had built, sown and practically grew all on your own for Jungkook. 
    “Being around nature often brings forth calmness to you.”
    It’s your words and it shows that you care so much for Jungkook to the point it appears too much but it’s never too much to care for people that you love, right?
    The car comes to a stop in front of Jungkook’s house entrance. The exterior of his house portrays calmness and peace - in the middle of nowhere, secluded to say - His house is built around the trees, protecting them. The clean exterior of his house promises warmth and comfort which contradicts the fact that the owner of the house is rather aloof, anything but warm and comfort.
    Aunt Binna steps out of the car and makes her way to her son’s door; short stairs leading to the brown mahogany wooden door. Aunt presses the bell to alert her presence and waits for her son to show up. A few seconds later, she hears a faint female voice before the door finally opens. She is greeted by a tall, model-like woman with a brown waist-length straight and silky hair. Her face carries the look of an innocent and naive person but that if it wasn’t for the hate that Aunt carries for her because surely she’s nothing but a cunning woman. 
    Rika. 
    Aunt immediately scowls at the sight she is greeted with. Rika is the reason for Jungkook's changes in behaviour and attitude for the past few months. He’s gotten colder and more distant than ever. If it wasn’t for you who had been supporting him, Aunt would have to watch his son drown in his own misery. If Rika hadn’t left him, they would’ve probably started a family of their own and Aunt would’ve been blessed with grandchildren. 
    But, no. 
    Aunt Binna doesn’t want grandchildren that come out of Rika, that had any blood and genetics of the young woman. She wants them from you and only from you. She only trusts Jungkook with you and no other woman. If Jungkook ends up with another woman then she wouldn’t acknowledge them. 
    It’s always you and has to be you. 
    You’ve done so much for her and Jungkook. She appreciates you so much but why is her son so blind? Can’t he see how much you care for him? - is what Aunt Binna always thinks of. You take care of him whenever he’s not well or injured due to some business, take in all of his anger whenever things didn’t work his way, help him to be more expressive - but sadly Rika had to ruin your progress -  and you always show nothing but loving and caring gestures to him, be it subtle or obvious. 
    “So, this is why (Y/N) left,” Aunt scoffs as she glares at Rika who already seems nervous.
    “Ma,” Jungkook comes out of nowhere. He looks around his mother to look for any signs of you but to no avail, he finds no one other than his mother but he still voices his question just in case his mother knows of your whereabouts.
    “Where’s (Y/N)?” 
    “Did you kick (Y/N) out because of this woman?�� Aunt Binna ignores her son’s question as she deems it’s a waste of time to answer it. 
    Jungkook closes his eyes as he inhales before sighing. “We made an agreement that she will leave once the work is done, Ma. It has nothing to do with Rika.”
    “Enlighten me, why is she here?” Aunt crosses her arms. “Because the last thing I remember is that she left you, ran away a week before the wedding. Practically humiliating you and our family name.” 
    Jungkook lets silence become the only language as Rika’s eyes shift between the son and the mother. Aunt sighs as she doesn't receive an answer from her son. 
    “You really don’t deserve (Y/N), Jungkook. As a friend or as someone special, both of them. She took care of you like a precious diamond, loved you with all her heart and yet you never once appreciated her or even acknowledged her worth.” 
    Aunt takes a step closer to Jungkook. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on,” she hisses at him. 
    Rika’s eyes widened but Jungkook wears his mask skillfully as he didn’t show that he is taken aback by his mother. 
    “Once (Y/N) returns, it’s best if you don’t meet up with her or even try to find her because if you do, I’ll cut off any contacts you have with her.”
    “Is that a challenge?”
    “It’s a promise.” Aunt glares at him. “I’ve planned to set a date for her with someone… Someone who’s worthy of her.”
    Is it an empty threat? Or is it a real one? She doesn't know. 
    She doesn’t want you to be with someone else other than her son and only her son. Although her son is a piece of shit that doesn’t mean anyone out there is better than him. But then again she also wants you to be with someone you truly love, someone who could bring happiness to you and shower you with nothing but love and affection. 
    As if Aunt Binna has triggered a wrong switch, her son is immediately inches away from her face. Jungkook glares at his mother. 
    “If you only plan to rile me up using (Y/N), you better know it’s not a wise choice,” he whispers. “Leave. Her. Alone.”
    His words make his dear mother break into a laugh. He shouldn’t feel threatened by his mother’s words but the tinge of possessiveness that he felt says otherwise. One thing Jungkook doesn’t like is being threatened or felt threatened, it won’t end nicely. 
    “Why so? I’m merely helping her find her happiness. She’s free to date anybody in the very first place but guess what, she chose not to because of you but I’m sure now there’s nothing holding her back since you have Rika.”
    She chose not to. 
    Jungkook only manages to stare at his mother in silence. Aunt Binna has nothing more to say so she gladly turns around to leave. 
    “Have a great day, son.”
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    Jungkook eyes his left side of the bed. Rika is sleeping peacefully. Her little snores become the only sound in the quiet bedroom. He loves it - the little snores Rika makes while sleeping - but it was back then, hearing it now doesn’t give him the same effect as a few months ago. 
    Or does it ever give him any sort of effect?
    Everything around him is empty and emptier without you but his mind is never empty of you. You are always one of the many thoughts he had in mind.
    His morning would always be greeted with you holding a cup of coffee in hand, ready for him to down it to his throat and inviting him for breakfast which he would always avoid but you managed to make him because it’s simply you. You know how to handle him even while the relationship between the two of you is obviously strained because of that incident. 
    Missing you wouldn’t be a crime given that you and he share a deep bond. Did you really just break your promise? How could you? You’ve been by his side for years and the same goes for him but now you’ve left him without telling him whatsoever. He had asked you where you will be staying after he kicked you out the other day only for you to act so cold to him. 
    He should find you—
    No, he shouldn’t… Right? He has Rika now. She should be his main priority now. Everything is falling back into place except this time, there’s no you. 
    Where did you go?
    Why did you break the promise?
    Guilt crawls on his skin as it eats him up. The incident that takes place seven months ago flashes in front of his eyes like a fast-forwarded movie. 
    The fear in your eyes. 
    The trembling hands and quivering lips. 
    The pool of—
    Jungkook quickly pulls himself back to reality as he feels Rika shifting. He gets out of the bed and heads towards the bathroom. A nice shower would clear his head, he hopes. 
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    “Good morning, sir.” 
    “Good morning, Nana.”
    Nana— or Mrs Chang is the housemaid, an old woman that Jungkook and you are close to. Mrs Chang has been taking care of you and Jungkook since you and Jungkook were kids. She’s a loving and caring woman, it reminds you of your grandma that’s why the two of you started calling her Nana.
    Mrs Chang exits the room once Jungkook has settled down on his chair. He stares at his breakfast that was prepared by Mrs Chang. It’s his favourite; soft soufflé pancakes with a cup of black coffee. 
    Rich golden honey syrup drips exquisitely from the top to the sides of the pancakes. It’s decorated with some berries and dusted with powdered sugar on top of the tower of pancakes. The pancakes are puffed, browned and heavenly sweet - even without tasting it yet. Aside from having a black coffee, pancakes are the start of his day but this is not it. 
    He picks up his utensils and cuts the pancake into preferably bite sizes as he eats it. It tastes bland even with all the sweets that had decorated his plates. The pancake is good but it didn’t spark his taste buds because he knows this isn’t the one he always had, it is not made and cooked by you. 
    Pull yourself together, Jungkook. 
    His quiet breakfast is interrupted by Rika. She slides her arms around Jungkook’s neck from behind and nuzzles her face into his neck. Jungkook breathes out her name as he puts down his utensils with a clink. 
    “Can I go out for a while, Jungkook?”
    “No.” He didn’t miss a beat as he voices sternly. 
    “Whyyy?” She whines. 
    “Because I have to go to work.”
    “I’ll take the guards with me—”
    “When I said you can’t go out, you can’t. Which part of “you can’t” did you not understand, Rika?” His voice is dripping with irritation. “For now, I don’t want you to leave the house without me.”
    “You once left me. I won’t let you do it twice.” It’s a promise. 
    Because you left me, I almost lost (Y/N).
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Past. 
    It doesn’t take long for your life to be flipped upside down or in this case, Jungkook’s life - or preferably he called it a plan. It doesn’t take long for your plan to be interrupted and ruined.
    His life doesn’t centre on love or on this particular woman but he needed these two for a purpose. The airport was a runaway with the metal birds. It’s a starter for people that seek hope and adventure on another ground. But now, Jungkook wanted nothing more than to destroy airports. 
    Once he’s at the airport, it was packed with a swarm of people. It’s the busy hour right now and he couldn’t afford to cause a ruckus with all eyes around. His eyes scanned his surroundings to find the familiar figure. He ordered a few of his men to split up and search around. 
    “Jungkook, her flight is almost departing. Gate A-32,” your voice rang in Jungkook’s earpiece. 
    “Gate A-32,” he ordered his men with a flick of his wrist and they immediately got into action. 
    Men in black suits started to fill in the airport. People were giving weird and confused stares as they saw those men in black but they knew better than to care about others. Jungkook had ordered them to find his fiancée that had run away and that’s the only thing they would focus on. 
    Jungkook was about to head to the gate that you had mentioned but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “Wait, Jungkook,” he looked over his shoulder and met eyes with Taehyung, his friend. 
    “A-32 is a domestic flight. Rika wouldn’t be so stupid to run away within this country,” Taehyung frowned. “Did (Y/N)—”
    “Fucking hell,” Jungkook cursed under his breath. He hastily tore off his earpiece. You were ruining his plan and buying time for Rika. Are you her accomplice? Why are you helping her?
    “Jungkook, it’s not (Y/N)’s fault—”
    “Shut the fuck up, Taehyung.” Jungkook glared at him, shutting him off. “She’s messing up on purpose!”
    “Why would she even do that?” Taehyung snapped at him. “Are you hearing yourself right now? She has no motive to do so!”
    Jungkook regulated his breathing. Taehyung might be right but he couldn’t handle any mistakes at this crucial moment and this mistake coming from you was unusual as you rarely made a mistake but then again you’re a human with weaknesses. Maybe he’s just being irrational right now. 
    Taehyung’s earpiece began to buzz off. He heard your voice trying to connect to his earpiece. “Taehyung? Can you hear me?” 
    “I can’t get a hold of Jungkook— Did something happen?”
    “(Y/N), it’s not gate A-32,” he said. “Relocate her.”
    “What—”
    “Gate A-32 is a domestic flight, (Y/N). Are you sure she’s there?”
    “Shit, hold on!” He heard you ordering your subordinate to relocate Rika and search every gate. “She was at gate A-32 just now— How…”
    “She is buying herself some time. She’s definitely not alone.”
    “She’s… Her tracker is at gate B-40 now. Be mindful this is just her tracker, have people outside of the airport as well just in case what you said is right.”
    Taehyung immediately jumped into action and pushed Jungkook to run to the gate you had just mentioned. 
    “Gate B-40, Kook. I’ll be outside just in case she escapes from this airport,” he told him. “Go!”
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    “Still at the waiting area of gate B-40?” you asked one of your subordinates. 
    They were all equally busy, pressured and stressed as you were. Their eyes were moving from one monitor to another, trying to find Rika in the midst of busy crowds. The sound of keyboard clickings filled the room.
This might be your speciality - to hack, in general - but surely everything would take time and now you have to get access to the airport’s security system just to find Rika through the surveillance cameras and with the help of her tracker she doesn’t know of - You hope she doesn’t know. Jungkook had installed the tracker in Rika’s phone without her knowledge - just a normal thing for Jungkook - so it’s a plus point for this situation. 
    Who would’ve thought…
    “Yes, she’s still there,” one of them answered as he was in charge of watching over the tracker’s location. The others were still trying to find Rika through the surveillance camera. 
    A frown was visible on your forehead. You pinched them as you tried to think of a reason for Rika to suddenly elude Jungkook. He treasured her like he had never before. You couldn’t think of any motive as to why Rika suddenly wanted to run away and to add to it, it’s one week before their wedding. If you were confused by this situation then Jungkook was twice confused. 
    Your eyes began to scan all over the monitors in the room. Rika’s figure has not been found yet but it was believed that she’s in this airport and hopefully, still. A surge of anxiety was starting to eat you up as the longer you scanned the monitors, the harder it was to find Rika; there were too many people at this hour. 
    You were about to move from the monitor to another one when your eyes caught a familiar figure in one of the monitors. The frown on your face grew harder at that. You squint your eyes to get a clearer vision as you close the distance between you and the monitor. 
    You’ve never felt the worst feeling of panic. 
    “Rika is not at gate B-40…” you muttered under your breath. 
    One of your co-workers caught what you just said. “But her tracker is still at B-40,” he said, his voice clear of confusion as to why you said that. 
     All of this was staged. Rika had planned all of this carefully and rather cunningly. What Taehyung said was true; she’s not alone and she’s buying time for that person. You refuse to believe your assumption might be right because if it was, Rika was one step away from escaping. 
    And you fucked up real bad. 
    “Entrance— The airport's second entrance, check that monitor!” you told them. “Fuck, where are Jungkook’s men?!”
    They were supposed to guard outside of the airport too!
    “(Y/N), that’s Rika!” your subordinate gasped. “But why is she—”
    “Rika isn’t planning to depart from this airport,” you told him as you rushed to the door. “Trace the car Rika is using, send it to me and inform Jungkook, ASAP!”
    Your subordinates quickly get into work. “Close down the road Rika is using. Do anything as long as the road is empty.”
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    The feeling of adrenaline rush in your body was indescribable. Your hand was placed on the gear stick while the other was on the steering wheel, your foot was pressing the accelerator pedal hard as you sped off in order to get to Rika or at least to stop her car from going any further. 
    After some time speeding off the road, you saw a familiar car, a black Mercedes-AMG GT 4-Door Coupé. You could be wrong but you were confident it’s Rika. Yes, she couldn’t be the only person that owned that car brand and model but the car was specifically Jungkook’s. The logo of his notorious gang and company was embedded on the car - it’s a must for every car that he owned to have those - and the number plate? It was specifically designed by Jungkook. 
    Not wasting time any further, you didn’t hesitate to make a drastic turn. The car you’re aiming at was in the opposite lane. You clutched the steering wheel and spun it to the maximum. You’re driving against the current in order to stop Rika’s car. 
    The mission is to stop Rika from leaving. 
    The adrenaline rush once again pumped in your body as you were speeding up towards Rika’s car. The luck was on your side because the road was already empty and it’s all thanks to your subordinates’ effort in getting it done using whatever ways. You wouldn’t want to cause damage to the public property and people around. You stared up intensely at Rika’s car that’s a few metres away from you, heading furiously towards you with no hint of slowing down as it seemed. 
    You drifted your car to make a roadblock in hopes that she wouldn't get past you. The only way to get past you is to crash your car and that alone was enough to cause damage to her car and slow her down, you hope Jungkook and his men were already on their way and not so far from your location. 
    To your surprise, Rika’s car came to an abrupt halt. The sudden press on her brake pedal left drift marks on the road. You immediately threw yourself out of your car and ran towards Rika’s car. 
    “Jungkook and his men are already on their way to you, (Y/N),” Jake, one of your subordinates, told you through the earpiece you had on. “I told him about Rika’s actual plan and he immediately got out of the airport, don’t do anything rash, just hold her off for some time.”
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    As soon as he got alerted by your subordinate, he wasted no time as he got out of the airport. It’s safe to say he may have bumped into some people and caused them to fall to the ground but he didn’t have the time to help. 
    He sped off the empty road to get to your location. He assumed it’s your order to get the road closed down. 
    But maybe he was too late.
    He saw your car sped off from your location but you were still there. The car Rika had used previously was abandoned. Rika took your car and left. 
    Why weren’t you stopping her?
    Rage and anger took over his body. He finally arrived at your location and immediately got out. He strode to you with big and long steps. 
   You heard cars coming in your way, you knew it’s Jungkook. You inhaled a good amount of oxygen as you closed your eyes, ready to face his wrath. The view of your car being driven further and further was what you saw once you opened your eyes again. Courage and braveness were what you needed right now but you couldn’t afford to have them. You felt an object being pushed to the back of your head, enough to command you to turn around. 
    Once you were sure your car with Rika in it was out of your sight, only then did you turn and faced Jungkook. The object you felt at the back of your head was a gun, Jungkook’s gun. The mouth of the gun was now a few inches from your forehead. You summoned leftover courage you had - you prayed you have - and spoke with a surprisingly clear voice, contrasting your trembling hands. 
    “I’m sorry, I was careless to let her escape.”
    The trigger goes off. 
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Present.
    Your past will always haunt you, taunt you in the evilest way. Regret will eat you alive for every second thing you do that is against your will, you have control over the matter but you chose the wrong way. Does Jungkook have control over his actions in the past? Perhaps not, but then again is his action against his will?
    No.
    Jungkook’s eyes shoot open. 
    The hideous past of you and him is still fresh in his mind. The guilt always eats him up every night, even after seven months. Jungkook rests his head on the steering wheel as he tries to regain himself, his self-composure. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but stare into space and reminisce about the past. He takes a deep breath before pulling up his body to sit up straight and start his car.
    He wished he had not acted irrationally back then.
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    It’s easy to describe Jeon Enterprise building, simple, really. The building is massive and clean. Most furniture in the building is either black, grey or beige. Jungkook arrives at the lobby and immediately gets into the elevator that specifically heads to his office floor. He is greeted by the receptionist which he replies with a simple nod and proceeds to the elevator. 
    The ride to his floor isn’t time consuming and he arrives at his floor after a few seconds. His floor is spacious compared to other floors. His father had designed the building himself and Jungkook didn’t make any changes ever since he took over his father’s position. He enjoys it too, working alone on the floor, no distraction whatsoever. That’s what makes them father and son, similarities in preference. 
    They say, always expect the unexpected - but where’s the fun in that? The element of surprise is what Jungkook fancies. After all, that’s how you take down your enemy. But he certainly doesn’t like to be surprised and he most definitely didn’t expect to be greeted with a piece of envelope presented on his desk. 
    Your resignation letter. 
    When he is walking down the hallway, he misses the empty cabin of yours. Your cabin is empty; the desk is cleared, no files or documents, just the company’s original properties which are the computer, the mouse and the keyboard. The letter of resignation is placed neatly on top of his desk, too neat to his liking. 
    He reads the content of the letter even when he knows it’s just a letter of you announcing your last day of employment - which is today - explaining your reason; personal reasons along with some praises to your co-workers and the company. 
    Jungkook is anything but rational right now. His mind is a mess but he’s unsure of the reason - because of your departure, perhaps? It wasn’t stated in the contract he made seven months ago that you have to resign from your position and end your contract of employment with Jeon Enterprise once you’ve found Rika.
    But then again, there’s nothing stopping you from doing so. Originally your contract of employment ended seven months ago, exactly a day after Rika had escaped. You renewed it because it was included in the contract Jungkook made you sign seven months ago that you have to continue working with Jeon Enterprise. 
    “You’ve read the letter, son?”
    Jungkook is too absorbed in his thoughts to the point he didn’t hear the footsteps of his mother nor did he hear the door to his office being opened. Aunt Binna is leaning against the wall near the door. She’s wearing a long black leather coat that reaches to her ankle and a belt secured on her waist. Her face is adorned with a pair of sunglasses and red lipstick. Her hair is tied back to a low bun, leaving a few strands to fall on the left side of her face. 
    Aunt takes off her glasses. “I sent that letter on her behalf.” 
    Jungkook immediately raises his head and stares at his mother with a bewildered look on his face. “Why?”
    “It’s her choice to resign,” she shrugs. “I only helped with sending the letter to you.”
    Jungkook heaves a heavy sigh. “Never mind, Rika is back. That’s all that matters.” He leans back to his chair, pinching his eyes close. Aunt heard him, of course, and she couldn’t help but to feel angry at her son. She scoffs as she crosses her arms. 
    “Why is she back anyway? She left you, Kook,” Aunt reminds him. “You’re overlooking the important thing right now. (Y/N) left the country to god knows where! Aren’t you worried?”
    “I love Rika so much, Ma. I can’t let her go,” he bares himself. 
    “Well, you might love her but I hate her— Maybe I loathe her even more after knowing the real reason why she escaped!”
    “What—What do you mean, Ma?” he frowns. 
    “God, I don’t know why (Y/N) kept this as a secret from you,” Aunt Binna sighs. “She loves you too much to not tell you the painful truth because she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
    Jungkook's frown deepens. His mother glares at him and puts back on her sunglasses, clearly ready to leave the room. “Maybe back then if you had asked (Y/N) what truly happened, you would’ve known.”
    Aunt looks over her shoulder. “You’re a smart man, Kook. I hope you have not become a fool because of Rika and I hope you have a solid reason as to why Rika is back.”
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Past : A week after you left. 
    The studio apartment was quite spacious; the bedroom, kitchen and living room were all in one space. Taehyung moseyed around his temporary little apartment. He’s used to living in a mansion but new experience doesn’t hurt especially when he’s doing this for you. 
    “(Y/N) suffered enough to get you back, Rika,” Taehyung drawled. He’s in no mood to talk actually, but Rika has been blowing up his phone so he had no choice but to pick up her calls. “Now that she’s free, I have no intention of keeping your little affair.”
    He hummed over something Rika was saying over the phone. “She doesn’t know that I knew about this,” he smirked when he heard Rika throwing a string of curses at him but his playfulness dissipated in a blink of an eye. 
    “You made my (Y/N) suffer. You and Jungkook… Both of you made her suffer.”
    They said anger is the bodyguard of sadness; it’s true. Anger started to spark in his veins as he remembered the tears that had fallen from your eyes while having a gun up to your head. He’s angry that he couldn’t afford to do anything back then and he’s sad that those images, those memories would stay in his mind forever. 
    Taehyung mastered the art of masking one’s emotions, be it by face or by voice. He’s angry but couldn’t afford to snap at Rika, at least not now. Anger is a powerful emotion. 
    “We are supposed to be together by now, you know? Me and (Y/N), I mean,” he continued. “If it wasn’t for your reckless action, I would’ve had her in my arms now…”
    Rika continued throwing profanities at Taehyung but he didn’t mind her of course instead, he continued. “But it’s fine, you’ll suffer in her place now.”
    The playfulness seemed to have come back as it was evident in his voice. “I’m giving you a chance, Rika, since (Y/N) wouldn’t want Jungkook’s love of life to suffer, right?” He pouted, his tone mocking. “So, now everything depends on how he gets to know about this; either from the mouth of others or yours.”
    He moistened his lips before he hissed out his opinion. “The latter option is better.”
    He didn’t let Rika continue any further so he ended the call with one touch. He returned to the app he had opened before picking up Rika’s call. The resume button was pressed and the audio was loading before it started playing again. It’s a conversation between two individuals. Taehyung had his earbud on one side of his ear as he listened to the conversation tentatively. 
    “Jungkook has given you everything, Rika. Why are you betraying him?”
    Your weak voice, your desperate voice which Taehyung knew that you were on the verge of tearing up - not out of sadness but rather out frustration, confusion and even anger - filled the room. He had replayed the audio for god knows how many times. It’s to the point he had remembered each and every sentence of the conversation. 
    He’s waiting for the perfect time to drop the bomb. 
    The conversation was still going on when he heard a knock on his door, breaking his concentration but he was bound to be disturbed at this time because the person he had been expecting had finally arrived. He knew exactly who’s behind the door without even opening the door yet. 
    Taehyung walked towards the door and with a happy smile, he opened the door. 
    “Aunt Binna,” he called. “Pleasure seeing you.”
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agustdakasuga · 2 months ago
Text
The Way Of A Criminal | Chapter 1
Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Dealing with the sudden passing of your father was more than enough, you were truly alone. Until one day, 7 boys appear and tell you that you are to live with them and be protected by them.
Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.
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“My condolences.”
“I’m sorry.”
You forced a small smile as the visitors bowed to you. Closing your eyes, you bowed your head back as a grateful gesture that they even made the time to come down here. Everyone could tell how exhausted you were, you spent the past 3 days crying with no sleep. 
“Thank you for coming.” You said softly and shook hands with people that you assumed to be your father’s friends. Your late father. 
“Miss, you need to sign for the caterers.” The funeral director came to you. He helped you to stand up and you went to sign the delivery form, allowing the caterers to set up the food stands. 
“I’m going to use the restroom.” You told him before walking away. 
“Woah!” You tripped over someone. Your eyes, letting out a small yelp, as you braced yourself for the impact of face planting against the marble floor. 
But it never happened. 
“Be careful.” An unfamiliar voice spoke. His rough hand grasped your forearm to keep you from falling. He pulled you back so you could catch your balance again. You blinked at him, putting your hands together in front of you politely and bowed to him gratefully. There was no expression on his face. He just gave an acknowledging nod and walked away. 
“What was that?” You watched as he disappeared into the crowd of mourners. He was young, too young to be your father’s friend. He looked to be your age more than your father’s. 
“(y/n).” Someone called your name and you turned back. 
“Hey...” You greeted your neighbours, awkwardness evident in your voice. You weren’t exactly close, you only bumped into them every now and then.
“Our condolences.” They sent you apologetic smiles before pulling you into a loose hug. 
“Thanks for coming.” 
“Of course. If you ever need anything, let us know.” They patted your shoulders. You bowed your head and gestured for them to go into the funeral hall with you. Honestly, they were kind but never really made the effort to interact with you or your father. 
“Hyung.” You heard the voice of the male that bumped into you earlier. He stood upright, with no emotion on his face, with 6 other males that looked to be around the same age. 
“Hello.” They must have caught you staring because they all faced you, bowing their heads. 
“Thank you for coming.” You tried to not stutter at their intimidating aura. 
“Our deepest condolences. Your father was a good man.” They paid their respects while you sat back down in your spot.
“He was...” You agreed softly. When the 7 of them moved and the next guest came up, you watched them move together, heading to the money box to put their condolence money in. 
“Let’s move out of the way.” They walked to the other side where the food tables were. What surprised you was the few people that recognised them, standing up and greeting them with a deep bow, as if they were gods. And even with people greeting them and looking at them with the utmost respect, all of them remained indifferent. 
“Who are they?” You whispered. 
“Is this where we pay respects?” A lady asked you. You nodded, gesturing to the front. 
You looked away but you couldn’t help thinking about these men. They didn’t look like normal business people. If they were not wearing their suits, they could probably pass off as students from your school. 
“Are you okay, (y/n)? Do you need a break?” The funeral director asked you. You shook your head. 
“I’m okay. Could you just help me make sure there is enough food?” You requested. 
“Of course.” He walked away. You were your father’s only child, your mother was out of the picture and you never knew of your father’s own family. So you were alone in doing all this. Thankfully, the funeral director was sympathetic and guided you through the entire process of the funeral. 
“Here, I got you some small bites and a drink. I know you haven’t been eating since this started.” He came back with a small paper plate of finger food. 
“I-”
“(y/n), you need energy. Or you might faint before the procession is over. I’ll take over for a bit.” He insisted. You knew he was right so you accepted the plate gratefully, moving away from your post.
“Thank you.” You said as he wore the familial armband and sat in your place.
When it was time for the burial, it all happened in a blur. You were broke down in sobs, calling out to your father, not caring about how pathetic you looked or how everyone else was looking at you with absolute pity. 
“My dad would have been grateful for everyone that showed up today. It is unfortunate that I only managed to meet his friends in his last moments with us. But still, thank you for coming to see him off.” You forced the best smile you could muster as you bid everyone there farewell. You sat by your father’s freshly filled grave. 
“Now I’m truly alone.” You whispered as you stared at the dirt. 
“You never liked to tell me about your life outside of home. Until now, I don’t even know where you worked. You kept everything a secret.” You cried like a child, wiping your tears with your sleeve. 
“Why did you leave me?” So lost in your sorrows, you didn’t notice the dark clouds gather. Only when the thunder clapped, then you flinched. 
“Take your time.” A voice said behind you, covering you with an umbrella. You blinked, looking up. 
“It’s okay.” He said softly. Your eyes widened in shock. 
“S-Sorry!” You stood up, wiping the remains of your tears. But they wouldn’t stop falling. That was when he pulled out a handkerchief from his suit pocket and gave it to you to use. 
“Thank you.” Your cheeks burned as you wiped your tears. 
“The rain doesn’t look like it is going to stop soon. Can we give you a lift home?” He offered. You looked behind him to see three black Rolls Royce parked in a straight row. The windows were so tinted that you couldn’t see who was inside. 
“I...” You couldn’t reply, casting your eyes back at the unfinished grave. 
“Take as much time as you need.” For the first time since you met him that day, he cracked a small smile. 
“No, I’m okay.” You shook your head. He gestured for you to start walking, him continuing to shelter you with the umbrella as you approached the cars. One of the doors opened and another male stepped aside for you to sit. 
“Thanks.” You sat down in the seat and he closed the door behind you. The door on the other side opened and the male sat beside you. You watched the other close his umbrella and head to another car. 
“Are... W-Were you all friends with my dad?” You just had to ask. 
“You could say that. We worked together.” He shrugged. 
“I see...” You looked down in your lap, fiddling with your fingers. No other thought was forming in your already exhausted brain. This wasn’t really the best time for you to be sociable with people, your mind was just drawing blanks and rightfully so. The rest of the car ride was rather silent, only the sound of the rain hitting the windows was heard. 
“(y/n)? (y/n)?” Someone shook you. 
“Huh?” You blinked.
“We’re here.” He said. Looking up, you saw that you were already outside your house. Just how long were you spaced out? He exited the car and took an umbrella, opening the door for you. 
“Come on.” You saw the other 6 come out of their cars as well, all standing under their own umbrella. 
“Even if we didn’t know each other before my father’s passing, thank you for doing this.” You bowed deeply to all 7 of them as you stood at your doorstep. 
“Don’t need to thank us, (y/n). It’s the least we could do.” They said. 
“If you ever need help with anything, do not hesitate to contact us.” You were handed a business card. There wasn’t much information on it. Just a logo and a single phone number. You nodded your head and bid them goodbye with a bow before entering your house. 
From the window, you watched them enter their cars and drive off. You let out a soft sigh. The first thing you did was remove your damp hanbok and take a long hot shower. 
You walked past your dad’s room. Ever since the news of him passing, you closed the door and never entered the room. 
“I’m sorry.” You apologised to him, still finding yourself unable to go in. Going downstairs to the kitchen, you made yourself a cup of strong coffee before going through the condolence money. 
“I shouldn’t have started you on coffee so young.” Your dad frowned. 
“Too late.” You chuckled, scooping ice into your hot coffee to cool it down. He sighed, locking his iPad and putting it down before sipping his own coffee. 
“But the only thing is that I can’t use coffee to keep me awake now. Especially when I need something to stay awake when I’m studying at night.” You complained, sitting opposite him. Your father shot you a flat look, reaching over to flick your forehead. Your eyes widened in surprise, holding your slightly throbbing forehead.
“You shouldn’t even be studying so late! Study in the day, the night is for sleeping.” He scoffed. 
“Do you really have the right to lecture me on that? You’re the one typing away at 2 am in the morning.” You crossed your arms and raised your eyebrows. 
“You-”
“Ack! Don’t hit me again!” You ducked.
You smiled bitterly, staring at the black liquid in your cup. Tears pooled in your eyes, threatening to fall again. You distracted yourself, opening the envelopes and taking the money out. 
“Woah.” The 7 envelopes with the same logo as the business card were significantly heavier and thicker. You set them aside to open later, going through the other ones first, stacking and arranging all the bills together. Since you still had to pay the funeral bills, you put them in a box. 
Finally, you moved on to the 7 envelopes. Your eyes widened from the first one you opened, this was too much money. 
‘See you soon xx’
Was written on the back of one of the envelopes. All 7 contained so much money, many times more than the rest of the condolence money combined. Just who were those 7 guys? 
“What kind of friends were you making, dad?” You said in disbelief. Those boys didn’t even know you, why would they give you so much money? 
*KNOCK KNOCK*
You jumped in your seat, looking at the door. Gulping, you stood up and went to the front door. Your heart raced as you looked through the peephole, seeing a deliveryman there with a big bouquet of flowers in his arms. 
“Hello?” He knocked again.
“Sorry about that.” You opened the door. 
“Miss (y/l/n)?” He asked and you nodded in confirmation. He handed you the bouquet then held out the clipboard for you to sign. After that, he rushed off, wanting to get out of the pouring rain. You closed the door and headed back to the kitchen before looking for a card in the bouquet. You let out a sigh of relief when you realised that it was just from your school. 
‘Our deepest condolences to you and your family. 
- Seoul Academy faculty’
You were fortunate enough to be sent to a private academy to study by your father. They had their own system of grades so high school and college were combined on one campus.
However, the school had its fair share of rich inheritors, whom you know would definitely be gossiping about your father’s passing when you return tomorrow.
“Give me strength to get through tomorrow.” You sighed. Looking out the window to see that the sky was dark, you gathered all the money and headed up to your bedroom to spend the rest of the night. 
-
When your alarm rang the next morning, you were already awake, staring at the ceiling blankly. You pushed yourself to sit up and get ready for your school day. You changed into your uniform, slung your bag over your shoulder and stuffed a piece of bread into your mouth. 
“Where’s my board?” You dug the closet for it. Your dad never liked you skateboarding to school and would insist on driving you but now, you had to go on your own. 
“Good morning.” Your neighbours greeted you with pitiful smiles. 
“Hey.” You gave a shy wave and continued on your way to the academy. When you arrived, some students stared but it was not as bad as you thought. 
“Did you see the new student?” 
“He looks scary.”
“But he is handsome.” Luckily, a new student seemed to have most of their attention instead. You tucked your board under your arm and avoided them, going to your locker to get your books. 
“(y/n).” A somewhat familiar voice called you. You closed your locker and your eyes widened when you saw one of the boys from yesterday. 
“Y-You...” Your mind went back to the large amount of cash from the envelope that you opened. He raised his pierced eyebrow at you but you couldn’t form words to say to him. You heard the students behind you whispering, wondering what your connection was to this handsome new student. Your instinct was to flee, which you did. 
“Hey, wait up!” He brisk walked behind you. You went to class and took your seat. Fortunately, you already had a desk mate prior-
“Move.” He said in a low, threatening voice. Your desk mate quickly gathered his things and ran to find another available space. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously. 
“Please leave me alone. I don’t know you.” You said softly. 
“I’m not here to hurt you, (y/n). It’s more the opposite. Trust me.” His demeanour softened when he spoke to you. 
“But I don’t know you.” You reasoned. He opened his mouth to speak again but the teacher coming in cut him off. For some reason, the teacher didn’t even ask him to stand and introduce himself, which was usually the practice when there were new students. 
“Professor! There’s a new student.” One of the girls in front raised her hand, a bright smile on her face. The professor stopped, turning to look at the boy beside you. He stared back at the professor, who gulped. 
“R-Right... There will be chances to get to know the new student after class.” The professor said and began teaching. 
“These are the essay prompts for you.” The professor wrote on the board. 
“Hmm...” You tried to pick a suitable topic. While you were not the best student in the class, you tried to at least be above the average grade, floating around the A- category with the occasional B+.
“What are you doing?” He leaned over to whisper. 
“Taking notes? And you’re invading my personal space.” You mumbled the last part, pulling away slightly. He shot you a charming grin at your words before turning to the front. You realised that he didn’t even have anything on the desk in front of him. Not a piece of paper or a pen, completely empty. Just what was this guy doing here? 
When the bell rang for lunch, you gathered your things and walked out of class. You went to your locker to put your books and get your lunch. 
“Do they know each other?” 
“Not sure... I know her father was a single parent and he died.”
“How did he die again?” 
You bit your bottom lip, deciding against going to the cafeteria to eat today. You tried to keep a straight face, to show that you were not affected by their gossiping, and continued walking. 
“Please... stop following me!” You turned around to look at him when you finally were alone with him. Even though you came to hide out at the sports bleachers to eat, he was still trailing behind you like a lost puppy. He blinked at you as if you were speaking a foreign language. 
“Look I don’t know how you know my dad and frankly, I don’t want to know. I just want to blend in at school, mourn on my own and move on. So please, leave me alone.” 
“Why do you want to be alone?” He asked. 
“It’s just how it’s always been...” You shrugged, looking away, voice starting to get shaky. 
“You’re not alone, (y/n). But if you must know more about me... let’s talk after school. There are definitely things that we need to discuss regarding your father.” He said, somewhat seriously. 
“I don’t know anything about my father’s life outside of home. He wasn’t even honest in telling me what he did for a living.” You said. 
“I am aware of that. Look this isn’t the best place and time to talk about it, that’s why I suggest we talk more after school today. But maybe my brothers and I can answer any questions you have about your father.” He offered. You thought about it for a bit. 
“Does it even matter...? He’s gone, anyway.” You whispered. 
“It would put your heart at ease.” 
“Okay.” You agreed. You moved to take a seat on the bleachers and he still followed, sitting on the level behind you, perhaps to give you a little more space. You ate your sandwich while he laid down, closing his eyes. 
“Are you going to eat?” You asked. He let out a grunt, which wasn’t much of a reply but considering he made no movement, he wasn’t going to. 
“I don’t even know your name.” You said. 
“Jungkook. My name is Jeon Jungkook.” He turned his head, opening his eyes to meet your own.
~
Ko-fi
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leefics · 5 months ago
Text
safe | twoshot
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part of the safe & sound series!
@niikipuff: ooouuu requests are open! i usually never send requests so i apologize that i can't give specific ideas but whenever you get the chance, could you please write a jungkook mafia fic? since that's way too vague, it can be similar to the 'comfort' fic you wrote with tae! and if you're going to include angst, please make it so that there's a happy ending 🥲
excerpt | jungkook's always there for you—especially when he sees a rival gang member approach you at a gala.
pairing | arrangedmafiahusband!jungkook x arrangedwife!reader
genre | angst, fluff, violence
warning/s | graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of poison and blood
lee’s notes | AAAAH my first request! and it's from none other than @niikipuff !! thank you so much for trusting me with this and i hope it's up to par with what you expected when you first sent in the request !
word count | 5.56k
go to | home / m. list / faq
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YOU SIGH AS YOU LOOK INTO THE MIRROR, biting your lip in nervousness upon staring at your reflection.
Today was the day of Bangtan's big gala, something that has been in the works for months and months. It was set to be a gathering for all of Bangtan's close allies—a place where everyone could mingle with one another and make connections. And well, being Jungkook's wife, it was almost mandatory for you to accompany him at the event.
"Mrs. Jeon, you look magnificent." Ms. Jung, one of the maids says with a smile.
You chuckle at this and smile at her gratefully.
"Thank you, Ms. Jung. I wouldn't have been able to pull it off without you." You respond, making Ms. Jung grin.
You were wearing a floor-length emerald green gown that elegantly draped around your lower body, paired with some beige heels. For your makeup, you settled on a light look—not wanting to wear anything to extravagant.
As Ms. Jung packs up the remaining makeup laid on the table, you both hear someone knock on the door. It opens and reveals Jungkook who was fully dressed in a black and white suit. He stares you and gives you a smile before turning to Ms. Jung.
"Ms. Jung, I think we can take care of it from here. Thank you for your help." Jungkook says, Ms. Jung nodding and bowing to you both before walking out of the room.
Once it's just the two of you, Jungkook comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, gazing at you through your reflection on the mirror.
"You look stunning, (Y/N)." Jungkook says, kissing you on the cheek.
You smile and shake your head, placing your hands over his as you gaze at him through the reflection.
"You look pretty dashing as well." You respond, Jungkook grinning.
He gently takes one hand off of your waist and reaches into his right pocket, smiling in satisfaction as he brings out a small velvet box. Your eyes widen upon seeing it, not expecting Jungkook to give you anything.
"Jungkook." You mumble, a small frown on your face.
Jungkook sees your expression and shakes his head before smiling at you reassuringly.
"It's just a little necklace, baby. I promise it wasn't too expensive." Jungkook quickly says, noticing the hesitation in your eyes.
He slowly opens the box, revealing a silver necklace with a small pearl charm. You exhale upon seeing it, marveling at how elegant it looked despite its simplicity. Jungkook sees your reaction and smiles, bringing the necklace out of its box.
He places the box on your vanity before unlocking the clasps on the necklace. Then, he brushes your hair to one side and gently places the delicate piece of jewelry on your neck, locking the clasps.
"We met up with a jeweler yesterday and I couldn't resist buying it. The necklace just reminded me so much of you." Jungkook explains, hugging your waist once again as he plops his chin onto your shoulder.
Your heart warms at this, giving Jungkook a grateful smile while you place your hands on his arms.
"Thank you so much, Kook. I love it so much. But please, as much as I appreciate these, you really don't need to buy me anything." You respond, making Jungkook pout.
"I want to, though. They look so beautiful on you." Jungkook says, kissing your neck.
You chuckle at this and give him a shy smile.
"Thank you." You repeat, turning your head towards him to peck him on the lips.
As you pull away, Jungkook smiles at you before bringing your lips back onto his. Without letting go, he slowly loosens his grip around your waist, turning your body towards him before pulling you closer. You both melt into each others' warmth, momentarily forgetting about the gala.
After a moment or two, Jungkook pulls away from you, your foreheads still touching. He gives you a small smile before giving you one last quick kiss.
"Well if you're going to kiss me like that every time I give you a gift, I might just do it more often." Jungkook teases, caressing your waist.
You laugh and roll your eyes, giving him an eskimo kiss while you crinkle your nose. Jungkook chuckles at this, continuing to hold you close to him until his phone suddenly buzzes. He pulls away slightly, keeping one arm around your waist as he checks his phone.
"Ah, they want us to come down. The limo's ready." Jungkook says, making you suddenly remember the gala.
You unconsciously let out a nervous frown, anxious to leave the house. Jungkook sees this and quickly furrows his eyes in concern.
"Are you okay, baby?" Jungkook asks softly, the worry evident in his tone.
You give him a reassuring smile and nod.
"Yeah, I'm just a bit nervous, I guess." You mumble, making Jungkook's eyes soften.
Despite only being married for less than a year, Jungkook was well aware of your discomfort when it came to interacting with other people in the mafia business.
Just like him, your father was very invested with the mafia since he was one of Bangtan's top advisers. However, the man did his best to keep you and your mother away from it—knowing very well how dangerous it could be.
So when you and Jungkook got married, he made sure to do the same.
"Hey, look at me." He says, waiting for you to look directly into his eyes.
As you meet his eyes, you see the concern in his eyes when he gently holds onto your hand.
"I'll be with you the entire night, okay? I won't let anything happen to you. And anytime you're uncomfortable, you can just let me know and we can leave, hm?" Jungkook says, giving you a comforting smile.
You give him a grateful smile and sigh before gently pulling him into a hug. Jungkook lets out a soft chuckle at this, nuzzling his face into your neck.
"You'll be okay, babygirl. I got you." Jungkook mumbles, making you smile.
"Thank you, Kook." You respond as he looks towards you, now feeling much more comforted.
He smiles upon seeing that you're more relaxed—his comforting expression suddenly contorting into a playful one.
"And remember, if there's a son of a bitch at that gala who wants to steal you away from me—" Jungkook says before cutting himself off upon hearing you giggle.
"Jungkook!" You exclaim, slapping his chest playfully as you both laugh.
...
When you arrive at the event venue, you immediately gawk at how grand everything looked. From the decorations around the room to the jazz music playing in the background, everything was designed spectacularly.
"Wow." You mumble, Jungkook chuckling at your reaction.
He caresses your hand as he leads you towards the other members, waving towards them as you both approach.
"(Y/N), Jungkook, so nice to see you both." Namjoon greets, giving you both a smile.
You hug and greet each of the members individually while Namjoon brings Jungkook up to speed with what is to happen during the event.
"We have men around every entrance and exit. There's also a strict invite-only policy so we shouldn't need to deal with any unwanted guests." Namjoon explains, Jungkook nodding in response as he watches you greet the other members.
When you finish greeting Jimin, you look towards Seokjin and grin before tackling him into a hug. Seokjin chuckles and hugs you back, happy to be able to see you.
"You look stunning, (Y/N)-ie." Seokjin says as you both pull away, making you chuckle sheepishly.
Out of all the members, you were the most comfortable with Seokjin since your fathers were close friends. This meant that growing up, you and Seokjin would hang out with one another very frequently whenever your fathers would meet.
"Thank you, Jin. You guys did a wonderful job with this event!" You respond, making Seokjin chuckle sheepishly.
"We had some help—but thanks." Seokjin says with a shrug.
You laugh and shake your head, patting Seokjin's shoulder before moving onto greet Hoseok who happened to stand next to him.
Once you finish greeting everyone, you walk back towards Jungkook and hold onto his arm, the latter giving you a small smile. He looks back towards Namjoon and nods before gesturing towards the table behind them.
"Me and (Y/N) will go and take our seats. If you guys need anything from me, I'll be with (Y/N) the entire night." Jungkook says, the other members nodding in response.
"I think we'll tag along too." Jimin says, patting Namjoon and Seokjin's shoulders.
"We'll follow you guys in a bit. Taehyung and I will just talk to security detail first." Yoongi says, pointing behind him.
You all nod before walking towards your respective seats, Jungkook quickly helping you into your chair. Once he sees that you're settled, he takes a seat next to you and gently holds onto one of your hands.
"You okay, baby?" Jungkook asks, making you nod and look and smile at him reassuringly.
"I'm alright. Thank you, Kook." You say, Jungkook nodding and caressing your hand with his.
"Alright, we get it, you're both in love and we aren't. Please don't rub it in our faces." Jimin says from across the table, the other members laughing.
"Come on, hyung. You would be doing the same thing if (Y/N) was your wife." Jungkook teases, Jimin chuckling and shrugging.
The group of you begin to chat with one another, occasionally greeting other guests that would come by to say hello. As you listened, the remaining nerves in your system begin to disperse into the atmosphere.
"Jungkook, can we borrow you for a bit?" Someone suddenly asks from behind you.
Your husband glances behind you, a confused look on his face. You follow his gaze and spot Yoongi standing behind you, an unreadable expression on his face.
Jungkook looks at the man and purses his lips before hesitantly looking towards you. Noticing his expression, you quickly shake your head and smile at him reassuringly.
"Go ahead." You say with a smile, making Jungkook sigh before standing up.
He walks behind you to stand beside Yoongi, one hand remaining on your shoulder as Yoongi whispers something in his ear. As Jungkook listens, you notice his jaw clench in frustration. He tightens his grip on your shoulder before it loosens completely as he brings both of his hands to his face.
"You have to be fucking kidding me." He mutters under his breath, Yoongi only shaking his head.
You turn towards them with a concerned expression, placing your hand on top of Jungkook's.
"Is everything okay?" You ask nervously, Jungkook's expression softening as he looks towards you.
He scratches his head frustratingly and grabs his phone from the table before putting it in his coat pocket.
"Babygirl, I'm really sorry but I think I might need to leave for a bit to take care of something." Jungkook says, causing you to frown.
"Is it bad?" You ask worriedly, Yoongi quickly shaking his head.
"We just need Jungkook to speak with some of the members of our security. He is their boss after all." Yoongi says, Jungkook nodding.
You sigh as you recall your husband's position in the mafia, remembering that he's responsible for communicating to most, if not all of the men in Bangtan.
You hesitantly nod, tightly grasping his hand in yours.
"Be careful, okay?" You say with a frown, Jungkook nodding and crouching down towards you.
"I'll be back as soon as I can, okay? And if you want to get drinks or food, just make sure to let one of the members know so that they know where to find you." Jungkook says, making you nod.
He pecks you on the lips and gives you one last reassuring smile before walking away with Yoongi. Once they leave, you let out a sigh and look around you, a small pout on your face since Jungkook was no longer next to you.
As you look around, you suddenly make eye-contact with a familiar pair of eyes, causing you to perk up.
"Nayeon-unnie!" You exclaim, the girl gasping and running towards you.
You both hug each other and laugh, not expecting to see each other tonight. Nayeon was the daughter of your father's assistant, meaning that she lived in your home for majority of your life. The two of you spent almost every moment together, only going your separate ways once she married a family friend and moved all the way to Busan.
"What are you doing here?" You ask, Nayeon giggling as she pulls away from you.
"Younghyun and I are visiting Seoul for some business! He got the invitation to come to the gala so I decided to tag along." Nayeon explains, making you grin.
"I'm so glad to see you!" You say, Nayeon laughing and nodding.
"We have so much to catch up on! Last time we were together, you had just gotten out of college. And now you're married!" Nayeon exclaims, causing you to giggle.
She takes a seat next to you before you both begin to chat with one another, both having years worth of stories to tell to each other.
...
"How the fuck did you even let a Kwon in?!" Jungkook shouts, the two security guards in front of him cowering under his gaze.
A few moments ago, when Yoongi and Taehyung checked on the security by the entrance, they noticed a stranger sneak in without an invitation. The fact that someone managed to make it past security without an invite was one thing, but what ticked them off was the very familiar K tattoo on the man's arm.
In all of Korea, only one select group of people had that specific K tattoo—those belonging to the Kwon clan. They're a long-time rival of Bangtan, with their feud going all the way back to when Bangtan's fathers were in-charge.
The tension between the 2 gangs began when Bangtan had bought a large piece of land in Daegu. It was a very advantageous spot, being situated right in the center of the province for easy transportation to and from. After they bought the land, Bangtan began to thrive more and more as they were able to deliver product at a quicker pace. The Kwon clan noticed this and grew jealous, upset that another gang was gaining while they were losing.
So, one night, they decided to suddenly raid the territory. Luckily, many of Bangtan's men were there that night which meant that they were able to fight off most of the raiders. However, one of the men had secretly planted a bomb that night—one that would end up killing over an eighth of all the men in Bangtan. Ever since that day, the air has always been tense between Bangtan and the Kwon clan.
"W-We're so sorry, sir!" One of the security guards exclaim, Jungkook scoffing and shaking his head.
Yoongi stands behind Jungkook, a hateful expression on his face as he glares at the 2 men standing before him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you two? How could you both be so careless during such an important event?" Yoongi asks in disbelief, the 2 men looking down in shame.
"You should be grateful that Taehyung and Yoongi were even able to spot them through the cameras. At least now we still have a chance to clean up your messes before you cause any more damage." Jungkook says, glaring at the men in front of him.
The two men continue to look down, both in fear and in shame.
"Do you even remember seeing them enter? How do we know it isn't just one person who managed to sneak in?" Yoongi asks, Jungkook looking at them expectantly.
"S-Sir, we're sorry but we were too busy handling the guests. We didn't notice—" The guard says before getting cut off as Jungkook throws a chair across the room.
"Listen here, my wife is in that room right now. If an intruder manages to even look in her direction, I swear to god you both are going ten feet under." Jungkook threatens, causing the two men to let out a cry in fear.
"S-Sir please, I promise you that we'll do a better job. Please forgive us just this once." The man begs, Yoongi rolling his eyes.
Before he could say anything, his phone suddenly buzzes. Yoongi brings it out and sighs once he reads the message flashed on the screen.
"Jungkook-ah, we have to go. Namjoon wants to meet us and come up with a solution quickly before anyone finds out." Yoongi says, Jungkook sighing and backing away from the men in front of him.
"We'll be dealing with you dimwits later." Jungkook mutters with a glare before they both walk out of the room.
Jungkook nods towards the two men outside the room, telling them to keep close watch before he and Yoongi begin to walk towards their designated meeting spot.
"Is (Y/N) still with the guys?" Jungkook asks Yoongi.
"Yeah, Jin just texted me. She's catching up with Nayeon-ssi right now." Yoongi responds, making Jungkook let out a sigh in relief.
Yoongi notices the worry in Jungkook's eyes and pats his shoulder, looking at him with a comforting smile.
"She'll be fine, okay? She's in good hands." Yoongi says, Jungkook nodding.
"Thanks, hyung." Jungkook mumbles, biting his lip in worry.
...
"Hey, I'll be right back, okay? I'll just go and talk to Younghyun really quick." Nayeon says, making you nod as you continue to stand next to the drinks station.
A few minutes ago, you had told Seokjin that you would walk with Nayeon to go and get some drinks. He nodded and told you to go ahead, saying to call him if anything felt wrong.
You sighed as you looked around, watching different familiar people interact with one another. As you waited for Nayeon to come back, you suddenly notice a male walk in front of you.
"Hi, can I have some champagne, please?" He asks the bartender.
The bartender nods before beginning to prepare the order. As the man waits, he turns towards you and gives you a polite smile.
"Great night so far?" He asks, making you chuckle and nod.
"I've just been catching up with an old friend. How about you?" You respond, making the man hum.
"I'm not really the socializing type so I haven't really been able to talk to people yet. But I am hoping that I'll loosen up a bit after having some champagne." He says with a laugh, causing you to let out a smile.
"No worries, I'm not the biggest social butterfly either. I guess it just takes a bit of practice." You say, the man smiling and nodding.
He gets the drink from the bartender and politely thanks him before taking a sip. Expecting him to leave, you give him a polite smile. However, instead of doing that, he remains next to you and starts another conversation.
"So, kind of a weird question but—did you go alone?" He asks, making you laugh and shake your head.
You decide to go with the conversation, considering the fact that you weren't doing anything else anyways.
"I'm actually here with my husband. He just had to leave for awhile to take care of something." You say, the man nodding before taking another sip of his champagne.
"Oh god—I just realized I never introduced myself. Here, my name's Minhwan." He says, reaching his hand out towards you.
You smile and shake his hand, introducing yourself as well.
"Wait, Jeon (Y/N)? Like—you're from Bangtan?" Minhwan asks, making you smile sheepishly and nod.
"I'm actually married to Jungkook." You say, Minhwan nodding.
"Wow, I had no idea he got married. Well, congratulations, I guess?" Minhwan says, causing you to laugh.
You both continue to engage in small talk, Minhwan only realizing about 5 minutes in that you weren't holding a drink.
"Hey, I just realized that I'm the only one who's been drinking this entire time! Don't you want anything?" He asks, making you hum and shake your head.
"Ah, I'm alright. I think I'll wait for Jungkook to come back before I have anything." You respond, Minhwan nodding.
"I understand. Well, do you at least want to hold onto some champagne? Just so I don't look as lonely here?" He jokes, and you smile and laugh.
"Well, I guess some champagne wouldn't hurt." You say, causing Minhwan to grin in triumph and nod.
He turns towards the bartender and asks for some champagne. You thank him with a smile and Minhwan shakes his head as if to say no problem.
"How about you? Did you go alone?" You ask Minhwan, the man only nodding in response.
"Sadly, I haven't found myself a wife yet." He says in a dramatic manner, making you chuckle.
"Ah don't worry, I'm sure you'll find one soon enough. She might even at this party." You tease, Minhwan laughing and shrugging.
"Hey, now that you mentioned it, there is actually this one girl I saw when I came in. She seemed very charming." Minhwan says, causing you to gasp.
"Point her out, please!" You exclaim excitedly, Minhwan chuckling.
"It's her over there. The one in the maroon dress." Minhwan says, pointing behind you.
You turn away from Minhwan and look behind you, scanning to find the lady he was talking about. While you look behind you, Minhwan slyly brings out a packet with white powder from his coat, pouring some of the unknown substance into your glass.
"I can't find her." You say with a pout as you turn back towards him, not noticing Minhwan placing something back in his coat.
He pretends to look behind you to look for the girl, his eyebrows also furrowing.
"Hm, maybe she went to the restroom or something." He mumbles before looking towards you and shrugging.
"Well, I can always point you out to her later on in the night." He says, you only nodding in response.
"Oh, is that my drink?" You ask, seeing a second flute of champagne in Minhwan's hands.
"Yup! Here you go." He says, handing you the glass..
You smile at him gratefully before taking it from his grasp.
"Why don't we cheers? To new friends and well—future wives?" Minhwan jokes, causing you to laugh and nod.
"Cheers!" You exclaim, clinking your glasses together.
You bring the glass up to your lips, about to take a sip when the object is suddenly taken from your grasp. Before you know it, you see Jungkook standing in front of you, the drink in your hand now long gone.
"You fucking asshole." Jungkook mutters before grabbing Minhwan by his collar.
Your eyes widen and you quickly gasp, about to tell Jungkook that he might have misunderstood the situation. However, before you could, Yoongi suddenly holds your shoulder, causing you to turn towards him.
"How dare you spike my wife's drink? At a party where you weren't even welcome?!" Jungkook exclaims, causing you to gasp again and look back at Jungkook.
You freeze in shock as you watch Minhwan's demeanor change from shocked to smug within seconds, the man shamelessly smirking at Jungkook.
"You know, Jeon. Your wife isn't half as bad as I thought. Maybe she can marry me next once we come after Bangtan." Minhwan teases, making Jungkook scoff.
He raises a fist to punch Minhwan in the face when Yoongi tightly grips his hand tightly, looking at him alarmingly.
"Jungkook-ah, don't cause a scene. We'll take him back to headquarters, alright? You can deal with him there." Yoongi says, causing Jungkook to huff and let go of Minhwan.
You swallow nervously as you watch Minhwan get taken away by two of Bangtan's men, Yoongi following behind them.
Jungkook quickly turns towards you, a concerned frown on his face as he quickly pulls you into his embrace. You let out a shaky breath and hug him back, burying your face into his chest.
"Babygirl, I'm so sorry." Jungkook says, pulling away from you to caress your cheeks.
"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks worriedly, looking at you.
You shake your head and force out a small smile to reassure him, Jungkook seeing right through it.
"I-I'm okay. I'm just a bit shocked is all." You respond, Jungkook sighing and gazing at you guiltily.
He brings you into another hug, rubbing your back as he feels you lean into his chest.
"I'm here now, baby. You're okay." Jungkook whispers, rubbing your back.
You tightly grasp his suit jacket, unable to comprehend the events that jus occurred. Jungkook feels your nerves and continues to rub your back, kissing your temple.
You take a few minutes to calm down before pulling away slightly from Jungkook to stare at him.
"How did you know he spiked my drink?" You ask, making Jungkook huff.
"Minhwan was an intruder, we've actually been trying to trace his footsteps to find out where he was. And when me and Yoongi walked into the room, we saw him slip something into your drink while you were distracted." Jungkook explains, causing you to bite your lip.
"I can't believe I almost got poisoned. I-I thought he was just being friendly." You stammer, Jungkook's eyes softening as he gazes at you.
"I shouldn't have been so naïve." You mumble, Jungkook quickly shaking his head.
"Hey (Y/N), you couldn't have known, okay? All that matters is that you're safe now." Jungkook says, making you let out a shaky sigh as you nod.
"Thank you for saving me, Kook." You mumble, Jungkook letting out a small smile as he moves closer to you to peck you on the lips.
"Hey—I promised I'd keep you safe, right?" Jungkook says, making you let out a small chuckle.
You lay back onto his chest with a sigh, Jungkook rubbing your back as he comforts you.
"I'm just glad I got to you on time. I don't know what I would have done if that motherfucker—" Jungkook mumbles, cutting himself off as he clenches his jaw.
You look up at him and caress his cheeks, causing him to look towards you. His eyes soften once they meet yours and he sighs, slowly calming down again.
...
After the incident, Jungkook chose to bring you both home much earlier than anticipated. He didn't want to risk exposing you any longer and also knew that you would probably want to leave after everything that happened.
"Kook? Are you gonna join me?" You ask softly as you sit atop of your shared bed, slowly moving under the sheets.
You were wearing Jungkook's shirt and a comfortable pair of shorts, looking at Jungkook as he changed into a pair of sweatpants. He hears your question and looks at you reassuringly, nodding before pointing towards his phone.
"I'll be back in awhile, baby. I just need to take a call." Jungkook responds.
You nod and smile at him before bringing your attention back towards the movie that was playing in front of you. When Jungkook sees that you're alright, he walks out of the room and answers Namjoon's call.
"Hyung, how are you guys?" He asks, causing Namjoon to sigh from the other line.
"We're okay. The gala's set to end in about an hour or so, but we're going to try and speed things up so we can take care of the whole situation right away." Namjoon responds, Jungkook humming in agreement.
"Where did you guys bring Minhwan?" Jungkook asks, his jaw clenching upon recalling the man.
"He's back at headquarters with Jimin and Seokjin." Namjoon responds before letting out a scoff.
"Trust me, Seokjin made sure to let Minhwan know how mad he was—you should've seen how beaten up the guy looked after Seokjin dealt with him." Namjoon says, Jungkook nodding.
"And well, you know how Jimin is. He was just more than happy to participate." Namjoon adds, causing Jungkook to chuckle as he remembers Jimin's rather violent nature.
"Well, you guys better make sure that he's still there tomorrow. I'm going to fucking kill him for what he tried doing to (Y/N)." Jungkook says, his grip on the phone tightening.
"No worries, we'll make sure to keep him under heavy surveillance. In the mean time though, I think you should just focus on taking care of (Y/N). I'm sure she's quite shaken up." Namjoon says, making Jungkook sigh.
"Yeah, I'm about to go to her now. I just wanted to check-in with you guys first." Jungkook says into the phone.
"We're okay, Jungkook, no worries." Namjoon says, causing Jungkook to let out a small smile.
They exchange a few more words with one another before he hangs up on the phone and walks back into the room. Before he does; however, he decides to make one more phone call and contact Seokjin.
"Hello?" Seokjin answers after a few rings, Jungkook sighing.
"Hyung, are you still with Minhwan?" Jungkook asks, stepping back out into the hallway.
"Yeah, I'm just outside his room. Why?" Seokjin asks from the other line.
"Can I speak to him? I don't think I'll be able to sleep if I don't talk some sense into that prick." Jungkook says, Seokjin humming.
"Alright, give me a sec." Seokjin responds before the sounds of a door opening could be heard.
"Yah, someone wants to talk to you." Seokjin says, putting the phone on speaker.
"Hello?" Minhwan asks, his voice hoarse.
Jungkook scoffs upon hearing him, the anger rising inside of him as he once again recalls what Minhwan tried to do.
"It's me, Jungkook." He says to the phone, hearing someone laugh on the other end.
"Aw, missed me already? I bet your wife does too. We had a great chat earlier." Minhwan teases, Jungkook's jaw quickly clenching.
He almost debates driving to headquarters to give Minhwan a good beating upon hearing the man's tone. But remembering that you were still a bit shaken up from the incident, he stays put and decides to just give the man a piece of his mind.
"Listen here, you fucking prick—" Jungkook says, his voice deepening as his anger begins to show.
"You may think that you'll be able to get away for what you did, especially since you Kwons always run away from everything like cowards. But I'm telling you now, when I get there tomorrow morning, I'm going to fucking pull out every single nail you have until you can't fucking feel your hands. Then, I'm going to send them all to your little buddies in Daegu make sure they know not to mess with Bangtan ever again." Jungkook threatens with a glare, looking towards the door to make sure you didn't hear him before walking further away.
"You're going to wish you never even stepped foot into that gala. In fact, you're going to regret ever even crossing paths with us. Because that's the kind of shit that happens to you when you mess with us. Specifically—when you mess with my wife." Jungkook says, almost growling into the phone.
"So you better start praying that you'll even be able to live after tomorrow morning. Hell, screw that, I'm going to make sure you live. Because once you're practically immobile, we're going to bring you back to your Kwon friends and leave them to kill you because you no longer have any use to them." Jungkook finishes, his phone tight in his grasp.
Once he notices that Minhwan isn't responding, he scoffs and lets out a smirk, shaking his head.
"What? You suddenly can't speak anymore?" He teases, hearing someone scoff on the other end.
"I'm just saving my voice, Jeon. I know you're only bluffing." Minhwan replies, Jungkook clenching his jaw.
"We'll see about that tomorrow, you prick." Jungkook says before hanging up with a sigh.
He lets out a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before walking towards the door. Upon coming into the bedroom, he instantly makes eye contact with you.
"Everything good?" You ask softly, Jungkook nodding as he sees your concerned expression.
"Yeah." Jungkook responds reassuringly, taking a seat on the bed.
You slowly move closer to him and put an arm around his stomach as you lay onto his chest. Jungkook sighs at this, feeling all the leftover anger in his system melt away as he pulls you closer. He kisses the crown of your head and puts his arm on your shoulder, giving you a small smile.
The two of you watch the rest of the movie in silence, Jungkook not missing the way your eyes begin to droop halfway through. He smiles and starts to gently rub your back, lulling you to sleep.
As he begins to feel your weight drop onto his chest, he slowly reaches towards the light switch and shuts off the light. You quickly notice the darkness and let out a whimper, reaching for Jungkook's shirt.
"Shh, babygirl, I'm right here." Jungkook whispers, gently bringing you closer to help you feel his warmth.
He begins to slowly rub your back one again, calming you down to help you fall asleep.
"S-Stay here please?" You whisper, Jungkook's eyes softening.
"Of course, baby. I'm not going anywhere." Jungkook quickly responds, bringing one hand up to caress your cheek.
“I’m staying right here with you.”
1K notes · View notes
xjoonchildx · a month ago
Text
close call | myg x reader
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🎵 summary: burying your head in the sand won't change the fact that the man you love walks a thin line between life and death. and sometimes you can't outrun your worst fears.
🎵 pairing: reader x mafia!yoongi
🎵 rating: mature, 18+, a wee bit self-indulgent
🎵 genre: smut, mafia AU, guarded AU drabble though it can be read as a standalone story
🎵 warnings: smut with feelings (of course) angst, a lot of angst, super angsty you have been warned this is a veritable angst buffet
🎵 word count: 4.5K
🎵 notes: so, uh...long time no see? phew fam, these past 4-5 months have been really tough for me from a writing standpoint. i've probably written and deleted hundreds of thousands of words and just felt really out of touch with my writing voice. why am i telling you this? because therapy is expensive and because even though i struggled, i did manage to push through it and that makes me feel really hopeful about a light at the end of the tunnel where this writing block is concerned. i'd love to hear from you if you like this and thank you guys always for hanging with me 💕
i borrowed these people's beautiful eyeballs and brains on this fic and i owe them all a debt of gratitude: @hobi-gif @thatlongspringnight @illneverrecover @miscelunaaa thank you all for being rad people and writers.
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You hear music the moment you step off the elevator.
The sound drifts down the long stretch of hallway before you, echoing off the walls and then diffusing into the soft carpet beneath your feet. It gets louder with each step you take towards the apartment, swelling higher as you near the heavy steel door.
The sound makes you frown.
It’s dark and melancholic. The cadence is sloppy and the notes bleed into one another like muddled watercolor paints. There is no real melody to speak of, no cohesive thought binding the chords together. They hang in the air overhead like a line of mismatched laundry.
It doesn’t sound anything like the beautiful music Yoongi makes when he sits down at his piano. The lovely, lilting melodies he pulls from the instrument after you’ve both slept in and made love on Sunday afternoons.
That observation alone is enough to give you pause about what awaits you on the other side of that steel door. Never mind that it’s three o’clock in the fucking morning.
You take a deep breath and slide your key into the lock.
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Behind the heavy door, your apartment is shrouded in blackness.
In the dark, the couches and lamps and artwork are reduced to rudimentary shapes and outlines. You drop your bag and coat on the table in the foyer, peering into nothingness until your eyes slowly adjust.
Until the man you love finally takes shape.
Yoongi is hunched over his piano, dark hair falling into his face as one hand pounds carelessly away at the keys. The instrument produces a series of sounds so mournful they make goosebumps bloom up the line of your back. Slivers of moonlight slip between the gaps in the curtains, casting shadows across his silhouette.
You take a few cautious steps closer and the finer details start to come into focus.
The rocks glass gripped tight in his free hand. The papers strewn haphazardly across the piano’s lid. All around him the air seems unsettled, crackling with a dangerous energy that makes the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end.
Then music comes to an abrupt stop.
“I waited up for you.”
He speaks without so much as a glance in your direction, the sound of his voice strangely foreign. There’s a hollow quality to it you haven’t heard before, some peculiar disconnect between the words and the man speaking them.
“I see that,” you say slowly, stepping closer. “Did you want the neighbors to wait up for me, too?”
Yoongi doesn’t laugh at your jab. Doesn’t do or say anything at all, just continues staring down at the keys.
Your heart starts to pound a bit faster.
You close the distance that remains and slide into the empty space beside him, close enough now to breathe him in. Close enough to make out the scent of his damp hair, the spice of the aftershave clinging to his skin. Close enough to smell the whiskey he exhales with every heavy breath.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “Guess I’m a little fucked up.”
Guess so. You could count the number of times you’ve seen Yoongi drunk on one hand and you’ve never seen him drunk like this. Like he’s trying to drink himself numb. Like he’s trying to drink himself to blackout.
“It’s okay,” you lie, as if anything about this scene you’ve walked into is okay. “Happens to the best of us sometimes.” You reach a hand out to brush the hair away from his eyes, breath catching in your throat when he turns to face you.
He looks like he’s been to hell and back tonight.
Eyes haunted and skin pallid but for the ruddy whiskey flush across his nose and cheeks. He holds your gaze for only a few heartbeats before looking away. Like he’s embarrassed to be in this state. Like he’s embarrassed for you to see him this way.
Worry immediately climbs up your throat and threatens to claw its way out of your mouth, but you take a deep breath and force it back down. You stroke your fingers across Yoongi’s brow, sweep them over the curve of his jaw. He leans into the touch and catches your hand with his, turning his face to press a soft kiss to your fingertips.
“Yoongi, did – did something happen to you tonight?”
Your stomach twists at the pained expression that comes over him, at the way his eyes fall shut like he’s trying to push away a terrible thought. His grip on your hand tightens and so does your chest.
“Yoongi?”
“Listen, Doc,” he breathes, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
That awful twisting in your stomach sharpens. If you hadn’t known something was wrong – horribly wrong – before this very moment, you certainly know it now. You watch with your heart in your throat as Yoongi sets his whiskey down to reach for the papers strewn across the top of the piano. He presses them into your hands and you stare down at them, afraid to look too closely at the fine print.
“Look at me,” he commands quietly, and you immediately snap your eyes up to meet his. “This is important. This is everything. My accounts, the investments. This apartment and two properties in Daegu. It’s all here.”
The room goes quiet as Yoongi gives you a moment to absorb his words. As the meaning in them slowly begins to crystallize inside your brain. He watches the realization wash over you with a troubling calm, completely composed as you begin to stare back at him in wide-eyed horror.
“If anything happens to me, you take this money and you get the hell out of Seoul,” he continues evenly, as though the two of you are discussing dinner plans or something equally as innocuous. “You buy a house on Jeju and you spend the rest of your life working on your tan. Do whatever you want with it. But it’s all yours.”
Now you think you might be sick.
“Tell me what is going on.” Your voice comes out brittle as spun sugar, barely audible over the heartbeat now pounding violently in your ears. “You can’t just come home and say – ”
“The first thing you do is go to Namjoon. He can walk you through everything. He has copies of –”
“Yoongi, please –”
“Hoseok has copies, too. Just as a backup,” he keeps talking like he can’t hear you at all, undeterred by your rising panic. “They can have cash to you that same day if you’re strapped. Plus the rentals in Daegu have –”
“Yoongi, listen to me – ”
“So it’s not like it’s a finite amount of money. There will be more coming in every –”
“Stop!” You’re shouting now, barely able to think around the noise in your head. “What – what the hell is wrong with you?”
You stare at him in utter disbelief at how easily these words seem to come to him. By how unaffected he seems to be while speaking your worst fears out loud. It has to be the whiskey that’s making him like this. It has to be the reason he can sit here and calmly lay out a blueprint for his death while you’re falling apart in slow-motion.
But he’s not calm anymore, is he? Not now. Not if the spark of anger that lights behind his eyes is any indication. Your outburst seems to have jarred Yoongi out of whatever bizarre state you found him in. Now the set of his jaw is hard. Now his dark eyes bore into yours, the intensity in them unnerving.
“Let’s just talk about this in the morning.” You swallow thickly and add,“You’re drunk and I’m exhausted and – ”
“We’re going to talk about this now,” Yoongi interrupts, in a tone so cold and flat it makes you shiver. “We’re done tiptoeing around the shit that makes us uncomfortable, Doc. We’re not doing that anymore.”
Tears sting at the corners of your eyes.
“I’m done letting you pretend that this situation is normal. Because it isn’t. You need to get it through your head that every single time I walk out that door there’s a good chance I might not come back.”
He could have slapped you and it would hurt less.
It doesn’t matter that he’s right – about the way you lie to yourself about the risks he’s taking. About the way you don’t allow your mind to dwell on what he’s doing when you wake up and he’s not there. It doesn’t matter that he’s right about the hundreds of ways you’ve come up with to avoid the uncomfortable truth. It still hurts like hell to hear him spell it out so plainly.
“This money – ” Yoongi pauses to drag a hand over his face, “ – This money is the one fucking thing I can do for you if I’m not here, Doc.”
You let your eyes fall to the papers in your hands, the fine print you’d barely been able to see just a few minutes before now painfully clear. Line after line after line of numbers – numbers so long you’re afraid to acknowledge where they begin and where they end. Numbers so long they seem ludicrous. You don’t even know where to begin wrapping your mind around this kind of wealth.
And it means nothing to you. Not without him.
Tears start to fall against your will. Angry tears you try to hide but Yoongi sees them anyway. He reaches for you, tipping your chin up with his fingers and swiping at your cheeks with one calloused thumb.
You sit there with watery eyes and a battered heart and watch as the change comes over him. As the fire in him dies out and the frustration slowly drains from his features. He strokes your face until the storm behind his eyes ebbs away completely, leaving only remorse. Regret.
“God, I’m sorry, Doc,” he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m so, so sorry.” He presses kisses to the bridge of your nose, your wet lashes, your hair. “I’m such an asshole, God, I’m so sorry.”
You don’t say anything. Not until you’re sure you’re not crying anymore, not trembling anymore. You wait until you feel strong enough to use your voice without falling apart all over again and then pull away to look him in the eye.
“Why are you so angry, Yoongi?” You dab at your damp cheeks with one sleeve and straighten your spine, lift your chin. “Why are you so angry with me?”
Yoongi exhales deeply as he takes the papers out of your hands and wraps his arms around you. He pulls you in close, close enough to feel the way his heart is hammering inside his chest. Close enough to feel the way his throat works as he swallows over and over and over again before he speaks.
“I’m not angry, Doc,” he says after a while, voice thick with emotion. “I’m afraid.”
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He’s passed out by the time you get out of the shower, face pressed deep into his pillow.
You dig in his drawer until you find his oldest, softest t-shirt – the one with the hole in the neck – and then you slip it on. You slide beneath the covers and press yourself to him; bury your face into his back. He doesn’t stir.
I’m afraid.
Yoongi’s words echo in your mind as you lie there in the dark praying for sleep to take you. You think about all of the horrible shit he’s confessed to you after a hard night, all the truly terrifying shit you’d only gotten wind of after a night of beers with one of the loose-lipped maknaes. Not once has Yoongi ever uttered those words to you.
Not once has he ever admitted to being afraid.
You lie there in the dark and try not to think about what that means. Try not to run down the list of terrible possibilities, one by one. You lie there for what feels like forever, certain that sleep will never come.
But eventually, it does.
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You wake to the sound of the shower running.
A quick pass of your palm over the sheets beside you finds them still warm, so you slide over a bit – burrowing into that part of the bed that still smells like him. You lie there and listen to the water fall until you can finally summon the will to move.
Your hair is wild this morning on account of sleeping on it wet. It mocks you from the mirror as you brush your teeth, as you comb through it with your fingers, trying to tame the flyaway strands. Yoongi’s worn t-shirt skims the tops of your legs, the soft, tattered edges brushing against your thighs.
This is how he finds you when he opens the bathroom door – dressed in his ragged hand-me-downs, hair chaotic, a mouthful of fluoride foam. He stops to lean in the threshold and your eyes rake over the beads of water still clinging to his skin, the towel slung perilously low on his lean hips.
“Hey.”
Steam billows out from the open bathroom door and Yoongi shoves a hand into his wet hair, brushing back the curtain of dark strands that fall into his eyes. They tumble right back into place, disobedient. You spit and rinse.
“Hey yourself,” you reply slowly, unsure of where he’s landed this morning after all the emotion of last night. Probably a bit unsure of where you’ve landed, too. “How are you feeling?”
“Not as bad as I probably should,” he admits, rubbing at the back of his neck.
He steps closer and you force yourself not to look down, not to be distracted in any way by the dusting of hair that starts low on his abdomen and disappears beneath the terry cloth knot. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, but fight the instinct to curl into it.
“I’m sorry about last night, Doc,” he says quietly. His eyes are clearer this morning, but the sadness still lingers. “I was way out of line.”
You shrug, toeing at a non-existent spot on the gleaming marble. “Yeah.”
“I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“I know.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a long time and – I think I just kind of lost my shit. I should have done better.”
He cups your face in his hand and tilts your chin up, compelling you to look him in the eye.You find his gaze turbulent – some strange mix of contrition, arousal. Fear.
“Last night – ” he stops to blow out a heavy breath, “ – Was a shitshow, Doc. Hoseok was two steps away from taking a slug straight to the head. Everyone was shooting. It was fucking chaos.”
Suddenly it feels as though you’ve swallowed a spoonful of sand.
“But he’s, okay? Right? He’s not – ”
“No, he’s not,” Yoongi breaks in, saving you from having to voice the rest of that thought out loud. He drags the rough pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. “He’s okay.”
“What about the others?”
“They’re okay, too.”
“What about you?”
Yoongi’s entire body tenses at that question. His hand drops away from your face and the muscles in his shoulders and arms stiffen as he takes a half-step back. He sucks in a breath so sharp you nearly hold your own in response.
“I’m not going to push you,” you explain, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, you’re not ready. But if you tell me you’re afraid, then I’m going to ask you why, Yoongi. You have to know that.”
Yoongi drags a hand down his face, the tips of his ears pinking as a flush branches across his chest, his neck. You can’t help but feel like you’ve embarrassed him and the guilt is instantaneous, sinking in your stomach like a stone.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Really. We don’t have to do this right now. I can give you some space.”
You turn to make good on your promise, but you don’t get far. Yoongi catches your wrist with one hand, pulling you back to him with a firm grasp. “Don’t go,” he insists, dark eyes pleading.
“Then I won’t,” you promise. “Tell me what you need and I will do it, Yoongi. I swear it.”
He nods slowly, chest rising and falling with the series of steadying breaths he takes before he speaks.
“I went a really long time without anything to lose,” he starts. “It never mattered if I was out in the streets taking stupid risks every night because the only person who ever counted on me is me. Now all I can think about is you. What’s going to happen to you if I fuck up out there and get myself killed.”
“Then don’t get yourself killed.”
The words come out strained, despite your best attempt to make them sound lighthearted.
“It’s more than just that, Doc,” he persists, tongue slipping out to wet his lips. “Sometimes I worry that there will come a day when you wake up and decide this is too much for you. That it’s not what you signed up for.”
Your heart seizes painfully inside your chest. “No.” You shake your head vehemently, rejecting the notion with your entire body. “I won’t. I couldn’t.”
“The truth is that I can’t remember how I used to process all this bullshit before you. Now I think I have no idea how to do it without you. And that’s – ” He trails off, letting the thought hang in the air.
“Scary,” you murmur.
“Terrifying,” he corrects.
“Look at me, Yoongi,” you insist, stopping to swallow past the tightness in your throat. “I know what I signed up for. I know who you are. And I don’t want anyone or anything else. I’m not going anywhere.”
He takes you off balance with his kiss. It’s frantic, frenzied – tongue in your mouth, lips at your ear, teeth at your pulse point. You gasp when he crushes his towel-clad hips to yours, the swollen outline of his cock already growing against your belly.
“I love you so fucking much, Doc.”
Yoongi growls the words into your mouth, blunt fingertips digging into the rounded curves of your ass. You free your hands long enough to tug at the towel around his hips until it falls away, snaking your fingers between your bodies to seek him out. Yoongi hisses when you wrap your warm palm around his cock, grip tight as you stroke him from base to tip.
“I need you, Yoongi. Right now.” You whisper the admission against the corner of his mouth, one hand guiding his cock to the juncture of your thighs. He shudders when he realizes you’re bare beneath his old, thin t-shirt, as you slide the length of him against the slippery heat that’s already pooling between your legs.
“So fucking wet already,” he gasps, the muscles of his stomach straining when you rock against him, slicking him with the moisture between your thighs. He shoves impatiently at the hem of your t-shirt, swearing under his breath as he tears it over your head without a single care for its fragile state. Then he tongues at both your nipples, gets them messy and wet before taking one of them between his teeth.
You whine at the drag of his tongue, at the rough way he toys with it until the peak is stiff and throbbing in his mouth. His hips rock faster against yours, cock now gliding easily through your wetness. Your inner thighs are slick with it and when Yoongi takes your other nipple into his mouth you can feel yourself grow even wetter.
You dig your hands into his damp hair.
“Yoongi, oh god, yes – ” you gasp, when he adjusts the angle of his slide so that he’s stroking against your clit. He likes the praise, he always has – and he drives closer, harder, just to hear you gasp again.
“I gotta get inside of you,” he mutters, cock twitching when your hands find and squeeze the muscles of his lean ass. “Right now, before I come like this.”
You release him from the vice grip of your thighs and turn around for him, pressing your palms flat to the counter. In the mirror, you watch as he runs one appreciative hand down the slope of your back. His fingers linger on the curve of your ass for a moment before he slides them lower, slipping two fingers inside of you.
Your hips jolt at the friction and Yoongi swears under his breath again.
In front of you, Yoongi’s reflection looks serious, brows knit in concentration as he slowly fucks you with his fingers. A flush spreads across his chest and up his neck as he works you, one hand pressed into the small of your back while his other hand stays buried inside your cunt.
“Yoongi,” you beg, arching your back to push harder against the heel of his hand, “Please just fuck me already.”
He chuckles darkly, slipping his fingers out of you. Then the slick sounds begin. You watch him in the mirror as he strokes his cock, jerking roughly at the blunt head before he’s pressing it to your entrance.
Then he’s pushing forward, sinking that first thick inch and your body gives way with little resistance. You’re so wet he buries himself to the hilt with one fluid thrust.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, pulling out all the way to the tip and burying himself again. “Shit, that’s so fucking good.”
He experiments with that same stroke a few times, reveling in the way your whimper each time he bottoms out. But he needs more, you need more, and after a while he abandons the slow, torturous pace and sets to fucking you with determination.
Your fingertips go as white as the bathroom counter.
He knows your body well by now, can bring you to the brink and back with just a few expert touches. The force of his thrusts makes you fold over and he uses the angle to his advantage, one hand gripping your ass tight as he fucks you and the other reaching for your clit. The combination of both touches has your legs shaking, the sound of his ragged panting sending a sharp spike of arousal directly to your core.
“Come for me,” he says from between clenched teeth. “You’re right there. I can feel it.”
He bends down to scrape his teeth against the back of your neck, his strokes becoming more erratic with each thrust. And you arch harder into the press of his fingers. Then you are coming, so damn hard your arms give out and you collapse against the counter, body pliant and weak.
Yoongi rides out his own release only a heartbeat later. Between his heavy breaths, you hear him say your name.
Your real name.
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The human body is a remarkable thing.
It’s incredibly resilient; capable of withstanding terrible trauma. Designed to mend muscle, seal skin and fuse bone.
The scar that sits just below Yoongi’s clavicle is well-healed by now, barely visible at a distance. But you can feel it – what little evidence remains of both crisis and cure. You run a fingertip over the raised skin and marvel at the tiny dips and dents that live just above and just below the surface. Perfect in its imperfection.
Yoongi cracks one eye open to steal a look at you, quiet as he watches you absentmindedly map the faint line of his scar. The shower steam has evaporated now, leaving a chill lingering in the air. He draws the sheets draped around you both a bit tighter.
“This give you any trouble lately?” you ask.
“Nah. I noticed it a bit last week when it rained, but it hasn’t bothered me much since then.”
That’s another thing about the body. It forgives, but it doesn’t always forget. Pain can simmer just beneath the surface for a lifetime following an injury and some people even feel pain in limbs they no longer have. All it takes is the right trigger and all that hurt can feel fresh again.
Perhaps that’s true for more than just the body.
“You were right last night,” you admit, burying your face into the crook of his arm. “Sometimes it scares me so much to think about what you’re up against out there that it’s just easier to pretend it’s not real.”
Yoongi pulls you a bit tighter into his side, turns his head to press a kiss to the wild mass of your hair.
“Right or not, it was still a pretty fucked up way to go about talking to you about it,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you walking around every day waiting to get a call. That’s no way to live.”
Sometimes you don’t know how he does it. How he can leave this bubble of contentment the two of you have created together to go out there and walk a thin line between life and death. Sometimes you don’t know how he manages to keep one foot in that world and one foot in yours without fracturing in two.
The comfortable space you’ve settled into against him shifts as he takes a deep breath.
“You’re not going to fight me on this thing with the money, right?”
“No,” you sigh. “I’m not going to fight you about the money. I know why you did what you did.”
“Good.”
“But if I’d known you were sitting on that much money, we would have had that argument on a yacht instead of in this apartment.”
Your smart mouth earns you a pinch to the side and you yelp, pinned in place by Yoongi’s iron grip.
“That hurt.”
“It was supposed to hurt.”
Yoongi’s mouth curves into a lazy grin as you glare at him.
“Funny. Anyway if I were you, I’d be sleeping with one eye open, Min. I might off you myself and get a beach house and a pool boy.”
“I would haunt that motherfucker.”
The two of you share a laugh at that – a good one, the kind of laugh you feel from your scalp all the way to the tips of your toes. But after a while the laughter subsides. The humor slowly seeps out of Yoongi’s face. His dark eyes go serious.
“Hey,” he whispers, cupping your face in one hand. He looks down at you with such sincerity that your heart trips inside your chest. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that right?”
It’s not a lie. Not really. He means it when he says it, though both of you know it’s a promise he’s not in any position to make. But you’ll believe it, for him. For you, too.
You close your eyes and press your cheek to his chest; allow yourself to savor the feel of his solid warmth.
“Yes,” you breathe. “I know.”
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hi i actually wrote something and i'm feeling very happy about this. thank you for reading i hope you find an extra $20 in your pocket 💕
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929 notes · View notes
hueseok · 10 months ago
Text
mio angelo.
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it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself.
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pairing: jeongguk x reader
word count: 33.3k (🤠; use the browser when reading to avoid the app from crashing !)
rating: 18+
content: fluff | smut | angst | mafia au | established relationship au | inspired by ‘the godfather’ (so a lot of scenes may have similarities from the novel / movie) + ‘vincenzo’ | ft. lawyer!reader, soon-to-be mafia boss!jeongguk (kinda a spoiler, but kinda not) | this fic is prose heavy !!
warning/s: swearing | mature themes | mentions of smoking, drugs, prostitution, violence, crimes, and murder | explicit sexual content | dirty talk | nipple sucking | creampie | fingering | multiple orgasms | oral (f. + m. receiving) | one mention of breeding kink lmao | praising | begging | choking | riding | cum eating | taking it from behind (lmao idk what it’s called) | overstimulation | unprotected sex (this is fiction okay - be safe irl !)
» related drabble/s: bonus scene #1; bonus scene #2
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━ INTRO.
Your father has always been in debt with the Jeon Family; most specifically to their head, Don Jungsoo.
When you grew up and finally had the right amount of curiosity to ask why, Inhwan only smiled and said that the Don helped him in developing the winery—the winery that today stands as one of the most sought out wine companies in the country, slowly expanding to neighboring nations and even across other continents. He said that because of the Don’s generosity with assisting him in starting the business, taking care of matters that involved papers and endorsements and the easy transportation of goods to various well-known distributors, he was able to build a better future for your mother in about five years’ time, right before they were married and naturally, right before you were even born.
He was able to buy a massive house. He was able to raise you in a very comfortable environment, making sure that you grew up to be greatly taken care of; that you never once felt abandoned or alone, that you wouldn’t have to think twice in asking for something in whatever it is that you wanted and needed. Eventually, he was able to send you off to prestigious schools throughout your studies, even enrolled you to some classes that could develop a fundamental hobby such as drawing and playing the violin, taking any kind of measure without hesitation as long as it will assure him that he has truly done everything he can to lead you to a great future.
When you asked why Don Jungsoo offered so much to him despite the both of them not being blood related, he responded by saying “Your grandpa and him go way back. He always says that if it weren’t for your grandpa, he wouldn’t have found the success he has today.”
Hearing him say that, you were eager to meet Don Jungsoo, mostly because you never had the chance to meet your grandfather who passed away just months before you were brought to the world. At the age of twelve years old, while getting home from school that day, you were granted that opportunity as you arrived at the villa and saw an elderly man conversing with your dad in the common room, the both of them in the middle of a warm handshake, kind of like a goodbye.
That’s when you officially first met him, the Godfather, as Inhwan introduced you, promptly apologizing to Don Jungsoo for only doing so at that instance. Don Jungsoo harbored no hard feelings of course, knowing that it was nothing personal and was merely just a loss of opportunity because of the winery that Inhwan had to constantly oversee and the errands he had to do for the Family. Besides, Don Jungsoo already had the chance to meet you at your baptism and at a birthday of one of his grandsons that Inhwan and his wife were invited to, but you were very young back then to even remember it yourself.
As your eyes met that day, Don Jungsoo regarded you with delight almost immediately, fondly commenting that he thought you definitely inherited certain facial features from the father side of the family and that you have grown from a cute baby to a wonderful little girl. You smiled as he did, mumbling a shy thank you before instinctively hiding behind Inhwan’s waist, a gesture that Don Jungsoo chuckled at. It didn’t take long before you politely said goodbye when he once again concluded his meeting with your father because of the short interruption, the two men he brought along with him expressing their farewells to Inhwan too with a squeeze on Inhwan’s shoulder and also a pat on the back.
Even if that day was so long ago and was only a fragment of your childhood memories, you can always still remember that moment as if it just happened not that long ago. That day was indeed remarkable for you, since there stood the man that your dad has been talking about with so much honor and respect; the man that apparently raised your family from the ashes, the man who gave your father the chance to redeem himself, that it shouldn’t be questioned why Inhwan would treat Don Jungsoo in such a way.
You didn’t need a grown-up’s mind to realize that Don Jungsoo was an influential man. He showed it in his speech, his luxurious suit, and the people he seemed to have posing as his guard. He gave off an air of utmost authority, like there was no mistaking that he was a force you didn’t want to be reckoned with, a figure that people didn’t just respect, but also feared—and for most of your life, you only thought that it was because he was filthy and crazy rich. After all, rich people had all the means in the universe that could grant them the power to rule the entire world.
In Don Jungsoo’s case, his clan, the Jeon Family or more publicly known as JSG Group, was known to be the owner of a power company that chose renewable energy as its priority, the said establishment considered as the best across the state and among its competitors. Aside from the financial gain they already acquired with their principal enterprise, they have bought other businesses that stem from different fields—food and restaurant, motor vehicles, and even health care institutions.
They also had a lot of significant contacts, all who were as filthy and crazy rich as they were—were even secured when it came to legal matters because of the people they knew that were distinguished law practitioners; moreover, they had many friends that were involved notably in politics. It was those reasons why Don Jungsoo was named as one of the most powerful men and richest men in Seoul and has contributed so much with the immense accomplishment of your father’s winery as well. From your knowledge, JSG Group was a major shareholder of the wine company and has appointed Inhwan as the CEO to supervise its growing business.
Amidst all of that though, you shouldn’t have been naive enough to think that the winery’s said triumph was only made possible because of the Don’s well-known colossal wealth. You shouldn’t have been too dependent on the explanation that it was because Don Jungsoo was just inherently successful for everything to just go the way he wanted—for everything to fall into place in just a snap of his fingers.
It was only when you got particularly closer to one of his grandsons, Jeon Jeongguk, that you got a glimpse of what the Family precisely ran that made them so acclaimed and worshiped. It was only then did you understand and get to know what goes on behind the scenes that brought the Jeon Family such eminence, and whether your knowledge of it was for the better or for the worst, you didn’t really know.
━ CHAPTER I.
You and Jeongguk have been well acquainted since your youth. You knew him as the Don’s grandchild, the youngest in the eight that he had, and is said to be even affectionately referred to as Don Jungso’s ‘golden boy’ for he truly could do no wrong in his grandfather’s eyes.
To the Don, Jeongguk was shaped and made to be part of the business from the second he was born. Don Jungsoo said this with utmost confidence and pride in every chance he got for Jeongguk held all the qualities that he was expecting to come from an adequate head of their organization in the future. Jeongguk grew up to be a man who honored the Family’s good morals; a man who knew of loyalty, who valued true brotherhood; a man who knew when to use his brain or wield his fist; a man who you could sit down and reason with with the aim of diplomacy; a man who was adept in getting in the good sides of people, even the enemies, with his sweet tongue.
In Don Jungsoo’s three sons, there were always two or three qualities that were missing in his personal criteria for him to applaud them like he applauded his golden boy. His eldest son, Jeongguk’s father, thought too much, hesitated a lot in his choices, always wanted the majority to decide on something before he decided himself; the middle child, has never been interested in taking part of the business and most of the time remained distant with the Family in general, often treating it as nonexistent when got together with the rest of them on holidays and such; and as for the youngest, he was seen as too much of a coward to be relied on in any important mission by the Don, but he was at least dedicated in helping out in the best way he could to not be appreciated still..
As for the Don’s grandchildren, he had six girls and two boys. Since it was never an option by the Don to begin with to inflict the problems of the Family business to any of its women, his six granddaughters were ruled out automatically in his head and he only spoiled them of gifts and of love as his means to let them have a taste of what the business provided. In regards to his grandson aside from Jeongguk, who came from the middle child, the boy was much like his father who didn’t want anything to do with their source of outcome for him to be taken into mind. The Don respected the decision of his middle child and didn’t force him or his son to embrace their living, though he at least expected that they remain close to the family when it came to personal matters.
Jeongguk entered the business at the early age of 15 years old. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, for it was too young and too soon, but it was a time where there was prominent tension between the Four Families of Seoul that Jeongguk’s father convinced himself that would feel more at peace with if he knew that his son at least knew how to use a gun. Of course, the Don wasn’t consented first before Jeongguk was taught to defend himself and Don Jungsoo disapproved of Hanseo’s decision, as he always did, however, there was nothing even he could do to reverse what has already been and instead of acting like things were the way they were, in a poor attempt to save whatever innocence that is still left on the boy’s mind, he permitted Jeongguk to be introduced to their ways and to the Mafia.
Just a year after Jeongguk was brought in, he “made his bones” by being a member of Inhwan’s regime and partaking in an operation that had something to do with confronting a businessman to cave in to what the Don offered. The man was supposed to pick sides, to choose between serving the Jeon Family like he has been for half of his life or the Lee Family who came into the picture and threatened to do expeditions for them, and when the businessman declared that he was now loyal to the latter and detested his association to the Jeon clan, Inhwan permitted Jeongguk to do the honors of assassinating the traitor a few days later, thus, officially acknowledging him as a made man.
For the years that followed, Jeongguk became Inhwan’s right-hand man. It was the Don’s intention to place Jeongguk under Inhwan’s faction rather than Hanseo, for he thought that having Hanseo show his own son the ropes of the business was a little unhealthy given the man’s known wariness for the safety of his only child. So, Jeongguk became closer with Inhwan instead when it came to anything related to the business; the Caporegime he was serving trained him to be better and to be sharper in what he did.
“Jeongguk, you’ve met my daughter before, right? ____?” Inhwan said as he welcomed the grandson of the Don to his home, walking with him to his office supposedly but before they could get to the room, they had to pass through the kitchen where you were preparing yourself a meal.
Jeongguk, now 23 at that time, glanced at you and was able to instantly discern your familiar face. You’ve been a guest at some parties that his family has held in the past, he has heard your name escape past people’s lips multiple times before in casual conversations, but this was perhaps the first time that the both of you were exchanging introductions. He only knew you as Inhwan’s daughter who the Caporegime always mentioned in great esteem for being the top student of your university’s honor list; the only daughter who Inhwan cherished after his wife passed on ten years ago and who typically lived in the campus dormitory since she attended college, hence why he never had the chance to see you so close before (aside from the fact that he has studied overseas for the last four years, of course).
You made eye contact and the second you two did, Jeongguk approached you in courtesy, extending out a hand. “It’s nice to formally meet you.”
You looked at your father then back at Jeongguk, wiping your hand on the towel by the counter and finally shaking his hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”
When Inhwan and Jeongguk arrived at the office, it was obvious that you were still in the young boy’s mind. He never said anything about you again throughout the affairs he had to discuss with Inhwan though, as he thought of it as disrespectful to be straightforward with his attraction towards you to your father, but it was from that day forward that he began visiting your household frequently, even the dormitory you stayed at during weekdays, just to get to know you better, and let you get to know him more too. He was definitely interested in being more than friends, but he wanted things to run naturally and not come out as forced for him to be truly blunt about his feelings.
“I’ve been hearing that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Inhwan’s daughter these past weeks,” Hanseo, Jeongguk’s father, opened up for dinner one night. “You like the girl?”
“Would he spend the majority of his time with her if he didn’t?” His mother, Yeonjin, retorted.
Hanseo remained serious as he spoke again. “If your intentions aren’t good with her, you should drop it, Guk. She’s the daughter of one of our close family friends. It’s not good to go behind Inhwan’s back and steal his child away. If what you’re only looking for is one good night, don’t try finding it with ____.”
Jeongguk laid down his spoon gently. He was slightly offended to be viewed in that kind of light by his Pop, but he was a young man after all, and young men certainly didn’t go for serious relationships these days. “Should I ask Inhwan first before I pursue anything serious with ____ then?”
His parents shared a look; Hanseo snorted even in amazement while Yeonjin remained smiling.
“Are your intentions good with ____?” Hanseo repeated.
“I like her,” Jeongguk said. “She’s interesting, and she’s kind, and she’s beautiful, and most importantly, she gets me. We can talk for hours and I wouldn’t know because time doesn’t move as fast when I’m with her.”
Hanseo continued staring at him, analyzing him, trying to guess if he was being honest with what he just said. After what seemed like a minute of scrutinizing Jeongguk, he shrugged as if it was suddenly not a big deal. “I’ll talk to Inhwan, get him to agree in setting you up with his daughter,” Hanseo assured him.
“I can do that myself. I’ll talk to Inhwan.”
“You want to talk to Inhwan yourself?”
“Yes. I want to assure him that I’m serious with what I want with ____.”
“In that degree, we might as well just arrange the both of you two wed.”
“No, no,” Jeongguk shook his head immediately, “I don’t want it to be forced. I don’t want to rush things. I just want to know that it’s okay and my personal interests won’t affect the Family.”
The following day, Hanseo still talked to Inhwan about Jeongguk’s attraction to you as a heads up. Inhwan just chuckled, admittedly fond with Jeongguk to think of it as a bad idea, nodded, and said that as long as Jeongguk won’t do anything that would harm you or disrespect you on purpose, then he was going to be on board with whatever relationship Jeongguk was going to have with indeed his only daughter; his permission was the least of what he could give considering that Jeongguk was the Godfather’s grandson. Besides, he really wasn’t a stranger to Jeongguk at this point; he practically raised him along with the others with Inhwan’s significant role in the Family business to perceive him as not a good fit for you.
On the Friday of that very week, Jeongguk went to the campus grounds of your university. He waited outside the building where he knew you would be taking your last class, leaning against the hood of his lavish Maranello with his arms crossed and his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Passersby ogled at him; murmured about his vehicle, some even took sneaky snapshots to send to their friends about how there was such a car in the premises. Even Jeongguk himself was well talked about by the students, with his right arm covered with elegant yet intimidating tattoos, the striking manner in which he stood and leaned there, and the fact that he was wearing this orangish yellow short-sleeved Fendi button down and was pulling it off despite how its color and style contradicted to the dangerous aura he was giving.
When you got out of the building, still conversing with a classmate, it took you a few more seconds to notice him; if it weren’t for a distant voice of another classmate saying how there was a ‘literal world treasure’ before his eyes, you wouldn’t have curiously looked forward and saw Jeongguk there, already staring at you, head tilted to the side while he indulged himself in the beauty of your appearance. As you regarded his presence with a smile, he lifted his sunglasses, pushing it past his forehead and over his hair, and flashed a smirk at you.
“Who’s that hot piece of ass?” Your friend, with her jaw slightly hanging down, blatantly asked. “Do you know him?”
“He’s a family friend.”
“A family friend?”
“A good family friend.” You grinned all knowingly. “I’ll see you next week.”
You skipped down the stairs without giving your friend a chance to interrogate you further and stopped right in front of Jeongguk who met you halfway. He had a handsome grin on his face and upon your arrival, automatically reached out to get your bag for you, a gesture that you stopped from happening by swaying your tote bag and books to the other side of where he was reaching for.
“Are you just going to act like you coming here is a thing we planned?” you asked with a chuckle.
The grin hasn’t left his mouth, only transforming into a playful one. “Sorry. I’ve always been under the impression that on one of these days, you want me to whisk you away before you get home and take you somewhere far.”
“Ah, of course, you have read my mind and obtained one of my deepest desires. Though I’m assuming this far place we’re pertaining to is the beach? What’s with this polo?” You couldn’t help but tease, even touching the hem to straighten it for a second.
Jeongguk remained looking at you, shamelessly ignoring your teasing. “Pop already talked with your Dad. And I already talked with him too.”
“Talked about what?” You were still examining the print of his top.
“About us.”
That had you flickering your gaze up to meet his, your delight not being concealed as the ends of your lips twitched. “What about us?”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t pretend that you don’t know what this thing is between us.”
“I’m not following, Guk.” The mischief in your gaze said otherwise and he chuckled, shaking his head, successfully getting your belongings this time when he reached for it. “What is this thing between us? All I know is that we’re great family friends and that—”
“Go out with me,” he cut you off, not letting you go longer with your act, “go out with me and let me show you a good time. More than great family friends tonight. What do you say?”
“Tonight?” You at least looked pleased and willing. “I might have to ask my father first.”
“I told you, I already asked him.”
“Even with what you want to do tonight?”
“All I want to do tonight is to take you out on a date. Just putting it out there just so we’re clear.”
You chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, crystal clear.”
“All I need is your yes, ____,” he added. “Won’t you give me that yes?”
He knew he was going to get what he wanted either way in how you smiled, how your cheeks blushed, and how you were abruptly getting fidgety, a thing you did that he noticed would only showcase itself whenever you were giddy or nervous. Nonetheless, the rush of serotonin didn’t stop you from teasing him again when you gave your answer. “I would, but I’m not exactly dressed in an attire that matches yours. I mean, I don’t even know if I have something that’s as flashy as that in my closet.”
“You’re really amused with what I’m wearing, aren’t you?”
“I just have never seen you in anything other than black or any other dark color.” You snorted. “But I like it. You look good. Very suave, still.”
“You really think that?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. You look very handsome.”
Jeongguk had noticed too that you were not one to shy away from speaking your thoughts out. It was another trait he liked about you. “Alright, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, come on—” he laughed when you did— “get in the car and I’ll drive you home first so that you can change.”
You nodded, eagerly heading to the passenger’s side, Jeongguk doing the same. “Where will you take me after that?”
“To the beach. Like you said.”
You laughed louder at that. “Sounds amazing.”
He opened the door for you and pushed it closed once you were settled inside.
Jeongguk did take you to the beach that afternoon. It was counted as your first date. You laid in the sand with him, the both of you talking about your day and other things that came to mind. You ate some cheap good food at the near convenience store, an occurrence that Jeongguk almost stopped from happening since he wanted to take you somewhere nicer for dinner, but you refused and insisted that you didn’t want anything heavy or expensive for that matter; you just wanted to be with him and act like teenage couples that couldn’t get rid of the too-happy smiles on their faces while they spent the day with their lover. Of course, you didn’t tell him the last part verbally, didn’t tell him directly yet that you wanted him to see you as a lover, but Jeongguk got the message and exactly went along with what you secretly hoped for.
By the time the sun was nowhere to be seen and the night had fallen, he told you that you two should probably get going home. The ride back was approximately 30 minutes long and he didn’t want to abuse the trust that Inhwan granted him by keeping you up too late and until the last minute for the first date. Thankfully, you agreed without a fuss, and for the whole time he drove you back to the villa, your hand was intertwined with his, laid on your thigh that was closer to the gearstick so he wouldn’t have trouble switching gears and holding your hand at the same time. He had to pretend that he wasn’t too happy with the show of affection you were sharing with him, but there was no mistaking from his expression throughout the drive that he was thrilled.
“Thank you for today, Guk,” you said as he stopped in front of your home, pushing the button that unlatched the seatbelt. “I had fun.”
“Thank God.” He laughed and so did you. You gazed at each other for a while before he squeezed your hand and let go, about to unfasten his seatbelt. “Let me walk you to the front door.”
“That won’t be needed.” You held his bicep to stop him, a successful tactic. “Dad’s probably home already and I know you say that he’s okay with us doing this but I still prefer if he wouldn’t see what I’m going to do.”
He knitted his eyebrows together, close to asking what you meant but you had already launched yourself towards him and kissed his mouth, catching him completely off guard. “Good night,” you said then, grinning, though your attempt to get out of the vehicle urgently after you said that failed to do a dramatic exit as Jeongguk gently pulled you back with a gentle hold on your wrist to kiss you again, this time in a fuller and proper way.
His calloused palm landed on your cheek, another on your neck, and when he leaned away in what seemed like hours of your lips on the other, your tongues clashing at one or multiple points in fervor—it was only so he could do the boyish gesture of smirking at you, kissing you again instantly afterwards, a soft groan rumbling in his throat while he kept you a bit longer in his car than he planned. That night marked the beginning of your budding relationship with him.
It also marked the moment when he realized that it was your nerve and determination that Jeongguk truly loved the best when it came to you. However, it wasn’t going to be for another few years that he would soon discover that just like everything in the world, your nerve and determination had limitations of its own, that there were going to be occasions wherein you would back out and play it safe—and he was willing to fill that portion of cowardice you possessed with the courage he was born with and worked hard for in his bones.
━ CHAPTER II.
Growing up, Inhwan never pressured you with the possibility that you’d have to take over the winery once you were old enough. Instead, he insisted that you follow your own dreams and he will be here, always right behind you, supporting you in any way that he could to make sure that dream of yours would come true.
Truth be told, it was never his intention to build the wine company in hopes that it could be a permanent business for his children and grandchildren—at least not at first when Don Jungsoo proposed the idea to him. The Don only told Inhwan that he should think of another venture that the Jeon Family can go into, a venture that would serve as another front for the real Family business, and in return for his efforts to build this future company and act as its CEO for the following years to come, he would be granted most of its earnings, since being so would not cause an issue with the Family due to his record of loyalty, which Inhwan felt very grateful for.
At Inhwan’s motivation, you decided to go towards the path of being an accomplished lawyer. Of course, that would take more years of studying and more years of general sleepless nights and frustration until you probably would have to wish death to fall upon you later on. But you were determined to prove yourself out there and do something that your heart genuinely longed for, not caring how long it would take and how much you would have to endure just to be at the top of your game. Inhwan, like promised, was more than willing to provide you with everything necessary for a bright road heading to your dream.
Inhwan knew you were an intelligent woman. The fact slapped him in the face every time you talked and made comments about the news or the wine company, speaking your mind out even at times no one frankly asked for your thoughts. You weren’t only smart because you knew how to memorize the texts on your school books—you were a true intellectual. He knew that and knew that he didn’t need to ask the Godfather to call important contacts to be guaranteed that you will get into the finest law school in Seoul once you were a few months away from finishing your undergraduate studies—but he still did, just to double-check, just to feel at ease that he won’t have to answer to his daughter’s disappointment when you discover that you didn’t get in.
You still got in though, thank goodness, without any of the Family’s special friends pulling some strings for him, earning it fair and square. The next thing you know, you have already spent four years in law school and have graduated, eventually passing the bar exam, your name printed as one of the top scorers. Once again, Inhwan was grateful that he didn’t have to contact anyone, knowing that if you discovered what he did, you would take it as more of an insult than a favor since more than anyone, it was supposed to be Inhwan who trusted your ability to pass on your own.
In celebration for yet another impressive feat of yours, he hosted a big get-together in the villa, inviting the Family and other people to share the momentous occasion with the both of you. Inhwan, though positive that the Don has not changed his mind in including women openly in the business, knew that the Godfather would find your obvious achievement beneficial to the Family, so he made sure to give highlight to your passing (even if it was just the start) as much as he could. You’ve been dating the Don’s grandson for four years now after all; it was only natural for Inhwan to always want to bring you into a better light and deem you as indeed worthy.
“Guk,” you breathlessly chuckled, your boyfriend’s tongue swiping against your skin, “they’re going to notice we’ve gone missing.”
Jeongguk pulled away from your neck, the skin of your throat littered with red marks that you’d have to cover up by changing into a turtle neck after the both of you were done. “So what? They’ll just understand that I’m just giving my smart girl her present.”
“And what is your present?” You couldn’t help but release a small moan when he lapped his tongue once more on your flesh and pressed himself against you deliciously harder on the mattress. “Your dick?”
“What? You don’t want it?” He snickered.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I have a greater gift other than my manhood, angel.” He leaned back fully, a handsome grin on his features, his arms supporting half of his weight as he hovered you. “Do you wanna see it?”
“Your manhood? Well, we both know it’s not something I haven’t seen before—”
“No,” he rolled his eyes, snatching a long kiss on your mouth for your silliness, “my gift. What I bought for you.”
You raised your eyebrows. “You really brought something for me?”
“Of course.” Another kiss, now on your forehead, and he stood up.
He went to your dresser, took the small paper bag that you didn��t even notice the first time around for you were too preoccupied with Jeongguk’s lips to mind anything else, and sat down on the spot he was in just seconds ago to officially present it to you. You watched in anticipation as he brought a black box out, your eyes widening impulsively at what it possibly meant and what it had inside though before you could speak, Jeongguk beat you to it. “I’m not proposing. In case you were thinking about that,” he said, placing the paper bag he didn’t need anymore on the floor.
You released a huff of relief. “I would have said no anyways.”
He flashed his eyes on you, hurt. “Really?”
“You’re not proposing, right?”
“Yeah, but it’d be nice to know that if I was, you would have said yes regardless.”
“I would have, but just not at this moment. Wouldn’t want being engaged to you steal the limelight of my accomplishment.”
He snorted. “Can’t say you’re wrong. It’d be a nationwide phenomenon.”
“Sometimes, you can go too far over the top of your head, sweetheart.” You gently held his chin to drag his face closer so you could plant a kiss on his mouth.
Jeongguk smirked and opened the velvet box. There inside lay a thin gold chain necklace with five diamonds, the five of them glittering and placed tightly next to each other in the middle. You unconsciously held your breath at its gorgeousness, your interest in jewelry not being hidden at that instant, for you can’t deny that as you got older, your love for shiny things increased too, but then you thought about how this must have cost a fortune—not that it would be any problem to Jeongguk if it had—that a frown came to your face the next instant.
“Jeongguk…”
“I didn’t spend that much on it,” he defended immediately, aware that you would open the topic of how much was this. “This didn’t put me close to bankruptcy or something.”
“Huh, that’s not at all a very guilty thing to say, Guk.”
He chuckled at the sarcasm. “Well, okay—you can’t expect me not to go all out sometimes. You deserve gifts like this.”
“Do I really?”
“Of course, you do, angel.” He took the necklace from its box. “Turn around for me. Let me put it on you and let’s see what it looks like.”
You obliged, scooting towards him and spinning around to let your back face him. You swept your hair to the other side and lifted it up, Jeongguk swinging his arms over you and laying the necklace flat against your skin, the five diamonds just by your collar. The cold sensation of the chain made goosebumps rise on your nape; Jeongguk locked it in place and lightly pulled the diamonds lower to fix it on your neck.
He kissed your shoulder sweetly when he was done. “Okay, let’s see it.”
You both stood up, trudging to the full length mirror you had in your room. As you stood before it, you could clearly see the diamonds gleaming with enthusiasm; you’re already sure that no one would miss it when you go outside and greet some guests again. You know they would automatically think that it was Jeongguk who gave you such an exquisite present, considering that even though your father would not hesitate to give you expensive jewelry like this one, Inhwan didn’t exactly have the same good taste as your boyfriend to have the necklace mistaken as his gift.
“Looks like it was made for you,” Jeongguk commented with a proud smile, kissing the same spot on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
He chuckled, encircling his arms around your waist, still placing sweet kisses on your skin.
“How much is this?” You still couldn’t help but ask.
He shook his head. “No, no, this is a gift, I won’t tell you how much it costs.”
“Just give me an estimate, Guk.”
“It’s as grand as my love for you.”
You scoffed. “I’ll be offended if I discover that this isn’t as expensive in my head.”
He laughed. “I assure you it’s worth a lot. When have I ever given you anything that didn’t match your significance to me?”
“That’s your flaw, really. You spend too much.”
“I don’t mind.” He nuzzled his face on your neck. “Not if it’s for you.”
You turned around and embraced his torso, smiling, touched and swooned by his words as he always had the ability to do. You pushed yourself upwards with your toes, properly kissing him on the lips and Jeongguk reciprocated the gesture with a content smile, his hand on your hip tightening.
“Thank you,” you murmured. “I appreciate it, you know I do. But next time, how about you give me something that isn’t too glorious, alright?”
“No promises.”
You narrowed your eyes on him, a complaint bubbling inside you though just as you were about to say it out loud, Jeongguk was quick enough to prevent your actions by capturing your mouth again with his, humming in a teasing manner as he slowly led you back to the bed.
Three knocks on your door interrupted the moment, the two of you freezing at the sound. “Guk? Are you in there?” A familiar voice was heard from the other side of the door.
“No, he isn’t,” you promptly lied.
“____, I can sense that you’re holding him captive even from miles away.” He chuckled.
You sighed and untangled yourself from Jeongguk, opening the door.
There outside at the hall stood Seokjin, the adoptive brother of Jeongguk who was also a good friend of yours and an already valued lawyer himself. He was five years older than him and six years older than you, and being someone who always treated you like a little sister of his own, especially when you started to date Jeongguk, he was always kind to remind you since your law school days that if ever you needed anyone’s guidance about your shared field, he was there and was only one call away. You told him you were certainly going to take him up for that someday when you indeed needed his help, very comfortable with him to possibly open the topic in the future.
Seokjin glanced at Jeongguk. “Your grandpop wants to talk to you.”
“What is it about?” Jeongguk was smoothing his hair.
“Business, as usual.” Seokjin looked at you next. “Sorry for stealing him away—and in the middle of your party too. But it’s important.”
“No worries, I understand. Besides, Dad might not be too thrilled if he caught us in here before you have. We were just going to join the others again anyway.”
“Ah, yes, remember to keep yourself pure before marriage, ____. Saving yourself for your wedding night is definitely still the trend with the old folks.” Seokjin grinned.
“A possible yet at the same time impossible task,” you further joked.
“I’ll see you again later, okay?” Jeongguk appeared beside you to head to the door, pecking your cheek and glancing at his brother. “Jin, look at what I’ve bought, isn’t it beautiful?” He pointed at the necklace you wore.
Seokjin turned his eyes on it like asked and pursed his lips in approval, staring at it with an amused expression, nodding. “Gorgeous. You wear it well, ____. Of course, that is if we’re talking about the diamond necklace and not the forming hickeys.”
Your face burned; you tried to look nonchalant to preserve what’s left of your dignity, moving your hair then to the front to conceal the love bites. “Well, both were given by this clever guy right here.” You glared at Jeongguk who was staring at your neck now with an even prouder gaze. You hit him on the stomach because of it.
“That doesn’t come as a surprise.” Seokjin snorted and patted Jeongguk’s back as the young man stepped out. “We’ll catch up with you again after we’re done. I won’t keep him for too long.”
“No, it’s really alright. Settle what needs to be settled. In fact, don’t bother to return him if it’s that important.”
Seokjin laughed, pushing Jeongguk away before the latter could snap something back. “Noted. Congratulations again, princess. I look forward to seeing you in court one day.”
“Thanks, Jin. Hopefully not against each other though.” You smirked.
He chuckled and strided forward with an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders, leading him to the direction where your father’s office was located.
You’ve been informed that the Jeon Family has been talking about matters concerning the winery. The Don, being the Chairman of the board, was discussing affairs with Inhwan that you weren’t really aware of for your father never liked sharing them with you.
It was odd in your opinion, to still be kept under the light about anything that involved the wine company, for you’ve had the impression that once you grew up and has made it apparent that you could be a good help to the business despite your choice of profession not entirely centered around it, he would be more open to letting you in the scoop. Instead, you still had to mostly hear news about what he planned for it through hints from Jeongguk or other employees. Whenever you’d ask Inhwan yourself if there was anything you could do for the business, he would only squeeze your shoulders as he hugged you from the side, assuring you that you didn’t have to worry about anything, and that he could manage on his own and with the help of the Don just fine.
You let it slide but you were always salty about his secrecy deep down as you even reckon that Seokjin was more involved with it than you were. You’ve eavesdropped once in a conversation shared by your father and his friends at the patio of your villa that Seokjin was practicing his law degree exclusively for the Don (you’ve taken it as he was a part of the lawyers representing JSG Group), meaning he probably took care of anything related to the legalities of the winery too.
In a part of your mind, you didn’t get why Seokjin wouldn’t want to kick start his career first by gaining experience and taking a lot of various cases first rather than working for one big client after graduation. You knew the Don probably could offer him a sum that no client could ever give him, but in regards to the practice of law itself, you weren’t so sure. It seemed to be working out for Seokjin regardless though; he has always been sharp-witted and sensible anyways to not make the right decision.
Eventually, you’d have the opportunity of knowing exactly how sharp-witted and sensible Seokjin can be; you’d be far astonished to the point of actually beginning to deem him as a better lawyer than you were yourself, because unlike you, Seokjin had a certain quality within him that made him the perfect legal adviser.
━ CHAPTER III.
Jeongguk, since the day he became a made man, was always reminded that everything that revolved around the Mafia was strictly business. The transactions, the meetings, the negotiations, and even the violence that may come along with it if diplomacy was not the effective way to go was part of the whole ordeal. He had to instill in his head from the very start that nothing from their world should be taken personally—even if a member gets hurt because of another Family or a mafioso becomes a traitor to their organization. Everything was still going to be considered as business or done for the sake of business; nothing should ever be taken personally or with the aim to hurt the mafioso’s personal life.
That was one of the reasons why the Cosa Nostra was still seen as an honorable society despite the dangers and the various dirty businesses it carried out. Even though their people were comprised of crooks, thieves, murderers, and other nouns to describe generally bad people, they still had a set of morals of their own that they religiously kept within themselves and followed. However, there were flaws and loopholes to those ethics they observed, and the thin line that separated business matters and personal matters was something they overstepped at times in being too inflamed with their innate greediness.
“Are you sure it just happened? No one attacked my father?” Hanseo frustratingly asked through the phone. “How about that guy? Jang Yeocheol? He was obviously more than displeased when the Don refused to fund his plan for that wack of a narcotic casino. He didn’t do anything about it?”
Jeongguk waited patiently in the single leather chair inside the office. One thing he was sure of is not to rush and ask questions when Hanseo was asking them to someone else and was obviously agitated over the line. The person he was talking to was the Don’s bodyguard, the person who was in charge of driving him in and out of the office and to any other errands he wanted to go; his name was Yoongi and from Jeongguk’s knowledge, he was also one of Inhwan’s most trusted men, a guy he considered as his right-hand man since Jeongguk formed his own regime.
“Okay. I’m sending men there for backup. No doubt the news is already out about the Don’s condition.” Hanseo ended the call and glanced at Jeongguk.
“What happened to Grandpop?” he put forward.
“Stroke. Just fell in his office chair and his secretary found him there. Don’t worry, he’s okay, he was spotted early on and the doctor in charge of him is Dr. Hwang. I’m sure he’ll be doing anything to make sure the old man’s okay. You know him, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Jeongguk nodded. “He owes Grandpop a lot of favors. Should I do something? Should I go to the hospital too?”
“No, no, I don’t want you going there until I’m sure there really isn’t foul play involved. I know it’s not unlikely for Pop to suffer from something like that, the man’s not getting younger after all, but it’s still better to be sure. I’m going to have them review the CCTVs at the office; I’ll ask a guy I know to look through the phone calls of anyone close to the Don recently. Especially Yoongi—just for a safety measure, I don’t think that kid has it in him to betray us if that was the case.” Hanseo dialled another number on his phone.
Jeongguk took out his phone as well, the other one he used for the business. “Don’t you want me to call anyone too? The other Three Families might be jumping on this opportunity to put us in the bad light; for sure they’ll have the people think that his condition is worse than it already is.”
“I already have Seokjin working on that. He’ll be talking to the director at HSN News to make sure nothing leaks or at least nothing makes a big deal out of it. Why don’t you just go ahead and talk to your uncles? Ask them where they are and how they’re doing.”
“Really? That’s all you want me to do?”
“Yes, Guk, just go ahead and do it for me.” Hanseo made a hand movement that meant ‘go do it’ as he said his greetings to the person who just answered his call.
Jeongguk started calling his two other uncles at his father’s request; the second eldest, though having never shown his obvious affection for their Family, was panicked when he got Jeongguk’s call, quickly asking if the Don was alright. Jeongguk assured him that everything was okay and that they were handling it here in the headquarters, a.k.a. the home of Don Jungsoo itself, efficiently. His uncle murmured his praises of thanks to the heavens and promised that he’ll be travelling as fast as he could back to Seoul, in which Jeongguk immediately said that the best thing that he could do there is wait for a while until they confirm that matters are truly fine; once all of that is done, Jeongguk will ask Inhwan to send a couple of men over to his uncle so that his travel can be arranged, a preposition that the second eldest son of Don Jungsoo agreed without further complaint.
For the youngest of his two uncles, the Family scaredy-cat as Hanseo liked to tease his brother for, already knew what was happening when he answered the call. It was obvious that he was shaken but was gratefully getting his shit together as he told Jeongguk that he’s already digging into it too. This uncle of his talked about how even though the Don was already in his late 70s, he still believed that his father would not fall into sickness like that, a statement that Jeongguk had to disagree to since it was him who had to see the Don every single day and see him act more like his age the more time passed by, but he chose not to say anything for the sake of his uncle who still thought of the Don so highly that even natural causes just didn’t seem plausible for him.
After Jeongguk was done making that last call, he was about to go back to the office and update himself with the next course of actions that Hanseo must already be devising when he saw your Caller’s ID flash on his screen and he figured you must have heard the news too. He answered quickly, hearing your concerned tone over the line right as he pressed the phone again against his ear.
“Hey, Guk, is he alright?” you asked, your sweet voice entering his ears that he unconsciously relaxes, not noticing that for the past thirty minutes or so of talking with his uncles and going over with what he knew so far, he has been tense and sweating through his palms.
“Yeah, he is. They’re still checking on him though but he’s fine.”
“That’s great to hear. I was surprised when I saw the article online. Do you know that they already wrote something about Don Jungsoo?”
Jeongguk closed his eyes in exasperation. “Now I do.”
“It’s horrible. I mean, I understand that they may think that the news would downplay the company but why would they go as far as reporting a personal matter like that so quickly. It’s practically inhumane.”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighed, agreeing despite knowing the precise answer to your wonder—that the news of the Don’s illness would bring definitely confidence in the other Families, that others would assume that the Jeon clan wouldn’t be as powerful as they were without Don Jungsoo, given that the majority of the important contacts they had were acquired thanks to their loyalty to Don Jungsoo.
A short pause. “How about you, sweetheart?” you asked. “How are you holding up?”
He shrugged even if you couldn’t see it. It was the first time someone asked how he was doing after the whirlwind of events. “I don’t know. I’d say I’m okay but I don’t know. I don’t feel good.”
“You must be feeling bad, I’m sorry for asking a stupid question. Your grandfather is in the hospital for god’s sake—it wouldn’t be unusual for you to feel that way. Should we visit him where he’s admitted later when I’m done here? Or you can go ahead and I’ll follow.”
“Sure, just right after I check in with Pop. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go there together.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“Thanks for asking how I am, angel.” He sighed, a small smile appearing on his features. He hated it when you downplayed your thoughtfulness by claiming it was stupid; he didn’t want you to think that he didn’t think it was sweet or touching. “I needed to hear your voice after the news. It’s a nice reliever, you know?”
“He’ll be fine, Guk.” You assured him. “The Don’s a strong man—a good man too. He’ll be okay.”
Jeongguk nodded. “Yeah, of course. He’ll be fine.” A thought jumped in his mind abruptly. “How’s your day, by the way? Have you talked with your dad?”
“Yeah, he called. He said he’ll be sending a chauffeur for me—for what reason, I don’t know what; he said that he just wanted me to get home safely. I declined though, I told him I wanted to talk to you first. Does this have to do anything with the Don?”
There were these moments wherein Jeongguk was positive that you knew much more than what you let on. He never would think you were stupid to not get what the Family really did after all these years of your father being a caporegime and your romantic relationship with him who plays an important role in the business; it’s just that a lot of people typically only assumed that the Don’s power and wealth all rooted from the power company and the other ventures the Jeon Family pursued, that it wouldn’t surprise Jeongguk if that’s what you only thought of as well. However, there were always said times like these in which you’d give him a flicker of awareness that he’d also always find himself second guessing.
Before he could have answered, Seokjin, who had slipped inside the office with Inhwan earlier while Jeongguk was conversing with his uncles, peeked outside at the hallway and looked at him. “Your pop’s asking you to pack it up quickly. You still talking with the two?”
“No. This is already ____ I’m talking with.”
“Hurry up, kid.”
Jeongguk hated it when Seokjin called him ‘kid’, even if it was used in a context of brotherly affection. He watched as the acting Consigliere disappeared inside the office again; he focused his attention back to you, still on the line and waiting. “I have to go,” he said, not bothering to pick up where the conversation was on. “They’re asking for me.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“I’ll text you if I get the go signal, alright? Don’t go anywhere and just stay in the firm. I’ll fetch you myself when I finish talking to them.”
“Is it really that bad for all of you to behave this way?” Your tone was joking, light, but he knew that it was a serious question.
“No, no, it’s just a precaution. I think you’re already aware that Grandpop has a lot of enemies, don’t you?”
“I know. I just don’t know why you’d have to be careful with me too.”
Everything in the Mafia was business, nothing should ever be personal; alongside that, the Families mostly kept their words in never hurting women or children. “Just a precaution,” Jeongguk repeated. “I want—and I’m sure Inhwan wants as well—for you to be safe,” he explained.
You didn’t push it. “Okay then. I’ll be here and I won’t go anywhere unless it’s you who’s taking me.”
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
“See you.”
Jeongguk got the memo four hours later that the men that Hanseo hired to investigate the Don’s case concluded that there was no foul play involved and that the stroke the Don experienced was merely a normal occurrence because of his old age. Hanseo and the others expected it already, for since the last weeks, there have been instances in which the Don’s speech would be incomprehensible, a usual symptom for the illness. However, every time they raised the concern to the Godfather, insisting that he should go and see a doctor, even going as far as bringing the doctor themselves in the headquarters, the old man dismissed every single one of their attempts and said that he was doing well.
“We still need to secure the hospital though,” Jeongguk added after. “A lot would take advantage of Grandpop’s state. They’d want to use the excuse of his body failing on its own when they succeed in doing whatever bullshit they’d come up with in trying to get rid of him.”
“That won’t be a problem. We’ve got soldatos there from Inhwan’s regime and Seokjin already talked to the Chief of the Seoul Police Department to make sure it’s handled properly there at the hospital,” Hanseo said. “I’d ask you to send more from your regime, Guk, but let’s not draw too much attention.”
“I agree,” he nodded. “Can I go there now then? I’d like to visit him, see how he’s doing personally,” Jeongguk asked.
“Sure.” Hanseo nodded with a sigh. “Your grandma is already there so look after her too, she must be in shock as well. She always scolded him with the smoking and the drinking all these years that I bet it’s what she’s going to nag about once Pop gains consciousness. Plus, from now on, I’d like it if someone who’s actually part of the Family to be beside Pop’s bed all the time.”
“Okay.” Jeongguk looked at Inhwan. “I’m picking ____ at the firm. I’m going to be bringing her to the hospital too. Is that okay?”
Inhwan always appreciated Jeongguk’s respect for him whenever it came to you. Jeongguk never once made it look like he was unworthy of Inhwan’s trust since the both of you started going out by blatantly using his title as the Don’s grandson to do what he wanted. “You do that,” Inhwan urged.
“When do you plan on proposing to her?” Hanseo suddenly brought up while Jeongguk was heading to the door. “It’s been what? Five years? When are you going to tie the knot?”
Jeongguk glanced at Inhwan the same time Seokjin did, the Consigliere hiding the amused smirk that was beginning to show with a glass of scotch being raised to his lips. “Are you seriously going to bring that up right now, Pop? In front of Inhwan?”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Inhwan looked teasing, “you know you already have my vote, Guk.”
“I appreciate that but I don’t plan on proposing yet,” Jeongguk said.
“How come? What are you waiting for? ____ already graduated, she’s already doing well in her job. The both of you can start trying to make a family. It won’t be easy to do that in the future, I’m just saying. We’re looking at the worst case scenario here, and you know that if anything happens to Pop, you’ll be my underboss.”
“Not yet,” Jeongguk only reiterated. “And Grandpop’s going to be fine. There’s no need for me to rush into these things.”
“Jeongguk,” it’s Seokjin who spoke next, “you do know that when the Don wakes up, he won’t be the same anymore, right? He’s already having problems with his talking even before this happened; no doubt we’ll have to expect worse for the following days.”
“Propose to ____,” Hanseo said in a more authoritative voice. “Then when Pop wakes up and he’s doing okay—if he doesn’t look as bad as we’re expecting him to be—let’s get you and ____ married. We’ll have the Don attend and then it’ll be shown on the news how the Don still has the strength to attend to one of the momentous occasions in his grandson’s life.”
“So, you want to use an intimate and personal event in my life as a publicity stunt?” Jeongguk scoffed.
“Don’t take it to heart, Guk.” His father frowned. “It’s for the Family.”
“It’s bound to happen sooner or later anyway,” Seokjin added. “You’ve been trying to find a ring, haven’t you?”
“Not really the time to bring that up, Jin.” Jeongguk clenched his jaw, though his annoyed expression quickly faded and he found himself nodding at the end. “But fine, alright. I’ll do it if it’s the way we should go.”
“Great.” Hanseo smiled. “Let’s just pray harder that the old man gets a full recovery then.”
Jeongguk drove to the law firm you were working at with the thought of marriage in his head. It wasn’t like it never hit him that it’s about time that the both of you get wed; Hanseo already pointed out that it’s already been five years, Seokjin already mentioned it too that he’s been finding an engagement ring as well. It’s not like Jeongguk still had his doubts most especially, he was already sure from the moment that the two of you uttered your first I love yous to each other in the past that you were going to be the one and only woman he’ll want to hear that from—no one else.
He was just afraid of pulling you into the Family further. It was inevitable and a given already, as he never once thought of letting you go for the sake of your possible safety. It was selfish and terrible of him but he always thought that if other members of the Family could do it and still keep their wives and children safe, why can’t he? After all, the Mafia might always resort to violence and blackmailing when certain happenings don’t fall in their favor, but as much as possible, they tried to not step over the line and harm a Mafioso’s blood family. Doing so would bring shame to their values and would wage a war between the Four Families as they’d support their member’s want for vengeance and justice. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
Jeongguk only hoped that it’ll always remain that way for as long as the two of you lived. He doesn’t think he would take it if something happened to you because of the business he was involved in. It was already bad enough that you’re the only weakness of your father, the only person he cherished now after your mother’s passing; now you’ve managed to become Jeongguk’s apparent weakness too.
He soon arrived at the entrance of your firm’s building. He already texted that he was on his way minutes ago, so he was pleased to see you marching out of the doors quickly once you saw his vehicle, hopping inside the passenger’s side and automatically leaning towards him as you gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“You good?” you asked straight off the bat, a hand on the back of his neck, fingers lightly massaging his nape.
Jeongguk relaxed again at the action and stared at you before being the one to lean towards you this time, kissing you on the mouth, longer and fuller. “I am,” he said as he let go, facing forward. “All thanks to you.”
You snorted while putting on your seatbelt. “Well, I’m glad. I take it that there are no concerning affairs about the Don?”
He only shook his head in confirmation, driving forward. It didn’t take long until you both were at the hospital; Jeongguk was satisfied to see that there were a significant number of men there at the entrance, alert and eyes continuously scanning the area. When they took notice of the Don’s grandson, one of Inhwan’s men, Yoongi who was mentioned earlier and was proven innocent, greeted the two of you and insisted on letting a soldato park the car so you both could head on your way. Jeongguk thanked him and proceeded on grasping your hand, pulling you with him as he followed Yoongi towards the Don’s room.
Jeongguk hardly looked at his grandfather while consoling his grandmother along the side. He never saw Don Jungsoo as helpless as he looked at that moment; the Don has always been a hero in Jeongguk’s eyes; his protector and the person he was sure would never desert him even if worst comes to worst. Even if the doctor in charge of Don Jungsoo already assured and explained to Jeongguk that they’ve already put the necessary meds to stop the blood clot and that they’re also monitoring the Don closely, Jeongguk somehow was still not at peace.
He looked like he was though, that he was calm and composed, thanking the doctor with such politeness the Don would commend him for before Jeongguk added that if his Grandpop comes out of the hospital better and healthier, he’ll put in a word to Hanseo to reward the doctor for the service.
“Do you want me to go out and buy food?” you whispered to Jeongguk as he stared at the television, his face expressionless and making it obvious that whatever was playing in the screen wasn’t capturing his interest; his grandmother already left to eat and get some clothes at the Jeon Residential Area, so it was just Jeongguk and you for the meanwhile until his uncles and cousins would arrive. “Guk?” You placed a hand on his thigh when he didn’t answer.
He dazely turned to you. “Yeah?”
You smiled. “Are you hungry? I can go out and buy food and you can stay here.”
“No, don’t leave.” He shook his head, scooting closer to you on the sofa you were both situated in. “I’m not that hungry yet. Are you?”
“Not that much.”
“Okay.” He held your hand and pulled you towards him with it, just so he could place an arm around your shoulder. “We can just stay here until Uncle comes.”
You gazed at him from the side. “Tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart,” you murmured as you leaned your head back at his bicep.
He dared to smile. You always had a knack at reading his mind—it’s either that or he’s been visibly bothered for the past minutes for you to finally say something. “Just worried about Grandpop. Hate seeing him like this.”
“Yeah, I know. This sucks.” You pressed your lips together. “Dr. Hwang said he’ll be fine though. He’s already pulling through, all we’re waiting for is when he’ll wake up.”
“I have no doubt that he’ll be fine. I just don’t like waiting. I don’t like this stage—the uncertainty. Until I see his eyes open and have him talking to me, I’ll always feel bothered.”
“We can visit him everyday until that happens. Will that make you feel better about this? I bet it’ll make the Don happy too; he’ll be pleased to know his favorite grandson has always stuck by his side.” You grinned, teasing a little.
“How do you do that?” Jeongguk abruptly blurted and you raised your eyebrows. “How do you make things feel so easy? So light?” It wasn’t the time to act lovey-dovey, especially a few steps away from the Don’s bed, but Jeongguk got reminded of his father’s request to propose to you and marry you soon, and he deemed this second as one of the reasons why having you his wife would be one of the best decisions he’ll ever make if he decides to finally go forth with it.
“I’m made for you like that.” You smirked, squeezing his hand. “I’m your personalized lover.”
Jeongguk laughed. “That’s corny as fuck.”
“Excuse me? I’m trying to lighten the mood here more and you’re going to insult my attempts?” You were already laughing with him though.
“I love you.” He grinned and ducked his head to kiss your nose since your lips were too far from reach. “Always be my angel, okay?”
You dragged yourself higher to do his unfinished task, kissing him on the lips, just an innocent peck. “I’ll stay on your shoulder forever.”
“You better.”
You kissed him again. “I love you too, Guk.”
He sighed in content, petting your head gently while you laid your temple against his chest.
Jeongguk indeed came to the Don’s hospital room everyday after that, staying longer than you could as you had a job to maintain, keeping himself updated first hand about any news about his grandpop’s health. For days he sat at the farthest side of the sofa while various visitors offered their wishes of recovery to Don Jungsoo, holding the old man’s hand and kissing it, crying on it even as if to show how sincere they were, praying profusely for his fast recuperation. Sometimes they’d offer their wishes to Jeongguk or to Hanseo when the latter was present too.
Finally after nine days, the Don opened his eyes and Jeongguk was there to witness it happen, immediately jumping out of his seat and pressing the nurse call button as per protocol right after.
The Don looked at him, his old and misty eyes staring at Jeongguk. “Hanseo?” he said and even with the error, Jeongguk still smiled.
“It’s Jeongguk, Grandpop. It’s me. I’m here.”
“Jeongguk,” Don Jungsoo repeated, slowly recognizing him. “Jeongguk, my golden boy.”
Dr. Hwang and the nurses swarmed inside the room quickly and soon enough, the other members of the Family were already there too, having just gotten the news thanks to Jeongguk who called his father as soon as the medical staff were taking care of the Don. Even you managed to arrive at the hospital upon Jeongguk’s text swiftly, entering the VIP room with Inhwan and approaching Don Jungsoo alongside your father, the old man offering you a tired yet pleased smile as your gazes connected and you bowed in respect.
You stayed with Jeongguk for another two hours before one of Jeongguk’s uncles convinced him that he should go home, take a nice shower, and rest while they take their turn in looking out for the Don. Jeongguk agreed and obviously asked if you could come home with him, which you nodded to, said your farewells to the Don, and then fled with Jeongguk to go to their home at the Jeon Residential Area. Once there, you stayed in his room as he took a nice bath, sprawled your body on his bed and waited until he was done so you could ask what he wanted for dinner.
He came out of the bathroom just as you were talking with a fellow associate at the law firm on the phone. You ended the call shortly at his return and smiled at him; Jeongguk went to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist that you would have been fazed about if it wasn’t an already common sight to see. Nonetheless, it was still a sight that you were happy to be blessed with, your eyes trailing to the curve of his tattoo-filled arms, his defined chest and abs, right over to his muscular back that Jeongguk noticed you were truly ogling at when he glanced at your direction.
“You’re drooling, angel.” He smirked and you flickered your stare back to his eyes. “You like what you see?”
“Don’t I always?” You let out a huge breath, Jeongguk grinning and walking to your spot on the bed.
He leaned down, tilting his head to the side and pressed his mouth against yours. You ultimately melted at his touch and your insides easily squirmed in desire with that one gesture. Jeongguk felt the same way, felt the same impulse to go where this was headed faster. Being the patient and considerate man he always was however, he waited until you made the second move, the move that will reassure him that you wanted it as much as he did, and the instance you tugged his towel downwards that caused it to fall down, he didn’t waste time in pushing you forward so that you’d lay on the bed and under him.
The Jeon Family was still a little old-fashioned sometimes because of Don Jungsoo; the Don still expressed his disapproval of premarital sex whenever the subject rose as he’s a firm believer that a woman should be kept pure before the night of the wedding. It was an ironic principle by the Don really, as he still condoned the organization protecting one of the largest strip joints in the city and subsequently caved into the business of prostitution as well. Perhaps it was just a value he wanted to keep within the family—a value that Jeongguk has honestly not been able to keep with you.
It was foreseeable though as you and Jeongguk were in your prime, only in your late 20s, still considerably young; the both of you were also a good looking pair and a very smitten one too. It simply would be impossible to think that nothing happened at least once in the five years you’ve been a couple. If that was the case, people would have to commend you two for the self-control and the dedication to keep the Don’s virtues within yourselves as well.
For the past week, Jeongguk has been longing to have you this near him. He’s been too preoccupied with his grandpop’s condition and what’s been going on in the business too that he hasn’t indulged himself in anything that could keep his mind away from it. With the Don unable to lead, it was Hanseo who acted as the boss of the Jeon Family; whether a lot approved of it or reckoned Hanseo as a great successor so far, Jeongguk wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to hear anything that would cause unnecessary anger and stress on his part, so he chose not to hear the opinions of others about it. He only knew that Seokjin argued a lot with Hanseo just to put his father in the right mindset.
It’s obvious that Jeongguk has indeed been craving this with the harsh slams of his hips against your thighs as he spreads you further. It’s been seconds since he triggered an orgasm from you after eating you out like a starved man, shoving two fingers in and out of you rapidly as well, intent on making you come and get you prepped for him as fast as he could for he truly has been too eager to feel you around him again. Two weeks of not getting to make love with you was too much of a long time for Jeongguk to put it plainly.
“You wasted your shower,” you moaned as he lifted a leg of yours over his shoulder, your intention to tease apparent even if you were already being railed deliciously.
“I can just take another one. With you.”
You felt the pit of your stomach beginning to knot once more in pleasure and Jeongguk grunted as you squeezed him tighter. He dropped your leg and fell forward, latching his mouth around a nipple while a free hand groped your other breast. You gripped the hair at the back of his head, tugging its strands firmly, prompting a louder grunt from Jeongguk that sounded more of a growl than any other sound he has made and he let your nipple go to return to your mouth.
“Fuck—” you cursed with a hiss— “I’m gonna come again.” You whined.
“Touch yourself for me,” he softly ordered.
You followed his command and reached down to strum your clit hastily, Jeongguk pounding his cock inside your cunt in a sloppier manner. He too was close and was already aiming to take the both of you to your highs without any more delay. In a few more thrusts, more dirty whispers on your ear as he coaxed you to come again—to milk him dry and to let yourself go—your second orgasm rippled through you greatly; your loud noises of ecstacy probably being heard beyond the four walls of Jeongguk’s bedroom that he covered your mouth with his own to not let anyone near catch it. He might be delighted to let anyone know you were being treated well in the bedroom, but he still valued your want of privacy.
“Can I come inside?” He’s heaving, sweat running down his temple and chest. “Please? Please let me come inside your pretty pussy.” Jeongguk was whining at that point, dragging every bit of his control to not blow his load just yet.
You nodded, eyes closed, muttered yes over and over again, and with your permission, Jeongguk came inside you like stated. He groaned against your neck, forehead crushing the pillow by your head, his sweet moans eliciting goosebumps to rise on your skin. He gave you a couple of slow thrusts and then pulled out, kneeling on the mattress between your legs to stare at his cum seeping down your cunt. He grinned, stroking the tip along your folds in satisfaction, pushing two fingers in to keep his load in it, and when he was done, he crawled to your side, gently hauling you to his chest.
You ran your palm on his opposite shoulder and squeezed it while your cheek rested on its twin. “I’m tired.”
“You can take a nap,” he whispered, planting kisses on your forehead and hair, anywhere his lips could touch.
“I feel icky down there.”
He laughed and you pushed yourself up to glare at him playfully. Jeongguk remained grinning; he cupped your face and kissed you on the lips again. Soon you were on your back like earlier and he was hovering over you, the both of you making out. “Angel,” he mumbled, the endearment he loved using the most because of his reasoning that you were one of those heavenly creatures yourself, rang in your head in a more loving way, and you clung yourself against him closer, “you’ll marry me if I asked, right?”
You released his lips, pushing his face away, your thoughts returning to earth at his out of the blue inquiry. “What?”
“Marry me,” he said with more conviction, his eyes staring through yours. “I’ll make you the happiest woman alive.”
You chuckled. “I already am.”
“Then make me the happiest man alive by saying yes.”
“Guk—”
“I love you. You love me. We’ve been loving each other since forever. Why don’t we officiate it?”
“Is this your ‘I just got laid and I feel high’ brain speaking?”
“____…” he called you by your name, a rather rare occurrence if it’s just the two of you than most people would think; you understood then that he was really being serious, “I want to marry you.”
You gazed at him, your hand pushing his hair back away from his face. You appeared amazed, like you were waiting for the punch line of his joke or for him to generally just take his words back—but it never came, Jeongguk just remained staring at you, waiting for you to answer, and with a shaky exhale after realizing he was for real, you nodded. “Okay. Propose to me then.”
He kissed you; he placed his lips close to your ear; he murmured and confessed his love to you all over again. You smiled all throughout, your heartbeat beating fast and your eyes welling up as you listened to him recount dozens of memories with you, memories that you weren’t even aware he remembered up until that moment. As his finale, he asked you again if you would do the honor of marrying him, to make him the happiest man alive, though barely finishing his sentence, he abruptly propelled himself up from his position and rummaged for something in the bedside table at your left, and when he let you see what he stole from the drawer’s contents, it was a red box.
“Have you always had that right there?” you exclaimed, amused.
“No, just last night. I was beating myself up for not being able to think of a creative way of proposing soon and I might have shoved this ring too hard inside the drawer.”
You chuckled. “You’re unbelievable, Guk. You’re naked and you’re proposing and now you’re telling me you’ve endangered my supposed engagement ring?”
He ignored your teasing, acknowledging it only with a grin. “Will you marry me?” he finished his propal and opened the box; as expected of Jeongguk’s superior taste, the diamond ring that was placed in the center was so gorgeous you widened your eyes in astonishment.
You stared at the ring longer and looked up at him; you tipped your head to the side for effect and gestured to him to come closer. He did with a roll of his eyes, setting his head near yours and you hooked your arm around his neck, pulling him lower before whispering too in his ear. “Yes.”
What happened next was consisted of childlike giggling, Jeongguk pushing the ring on your ring finger, Jeongguk tackling you in an embrace, the both of you telling each other “I love you so much” until the phrase wore out, and then the inevitable love making for the second time that evening that also came to be more heartfelt than the last one—one that Jeongguk automatically added to his long list of unforgettable memories with you, his soon-to-be wife.
━ CHAPTER IV.
You didn’t want anything too flashy, that’s what you made clear. You wanted the wedding ceremony to only be attended by close friends and family; you wanted it to be intimate and personal as a wedding you thought should be. And although Jeongguk agreed and understood your point when you told him that, he expressed early on too that it was not going to be easy to make it happen for the sole reason that the person you were marrying was the grandson of the great Don Jungsoo—meaning that flashy and well-publicized would be the adjectives that would describe your wedding with him and not intimate and personal.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely right across from you on the table; the two of you were having lunch in some fancy restaurant near your law firm, the topic of wedding plans arising while you ate. “I wish I could say that I can just go ahead and tell Grandpop that I’d like to keep our wedding private, but you know how he is. You know how this family is.”
For the last few weeks, the Don’s health has been better. There were still risks, of course; he wasn’t magically cured from all illnesses just because he woke up and recovered. He was still an old man after all, and ever since the incident happened to him, his speech has notably become incomprehensible at times; a part of his face also slightly drooped, though you wouldn’t really notice it unless you’ve been staring at the Godfather your whole life and was sensitive to changes like that. As for his body though, he became thinner and in every step he took, looked like he grew heavier too. However, in regards to Don Jungsoo’s wisdom and ability to share intelligent thoughts, it was still gratefully there, just shared in a fashion that was a bit slower than before and perhaps harder to understand.
“Yeah, I get it,” you said. “What if we just elope and get married at some place like Vegas instead?” You were clearly joking. You showed it in the small upward curve of the other end of your lips, but you knew that Jeongguk sensed that there was still some genuinity hidden behind your light guise. “I’m kidding,” you added for a quick measure.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. There’s no reason for you to do so.”
“It’s just that I think I’m depriving you of spending our wedding day the way you want it. Haven’t you dreamed about something like this when you were young?”
“I did. I forgot about it eventually too. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’ll be a big deal to me if my beautiful bride won’t be happy on our special day.”
“Keep up the flattery and I’ll assure you that your beautiful bride will be happy.” You chuckled.
“Okay, how about this—” Jeongguk reached out and grasped your hand— “you do everything you want for the wedding and I won’t object. You can pick the theme, the food, the cake—everything. The only thing I’ll be having control over is the extra guesses for the ceremony and reception.”
“Guk, come on, I won’t deprive you like that. This is your wedding too.”
“I just want it to be memorable and have it the way you want, angel.”
“As long as you’re the one I’m saying I do too—it’ll be memorable and be exactly like I dreamed of. Don’t worry.”
Jeongguk grinned. “You mean that?”
“Would I have said yes if I didn’t?”
He chuckled and brought your knuckles to his lips, smooching it loudly in a playful yet sweet way.
Two months after that, you had your engagement party at the villa. Your home was big enough to accomodate people and it was a good thing that at least in that event, you had only spent it with your close loved ones and not anyone who wanted to suck up to your groom and steal him throughout the whole event, perhaps drowning him in unnecessary praises and ego boosts to get a good word from Jeongguk to Don Jungsoo. It was Jeongguk’s promise that he would ask the Don to keep the engagement party as exclusive as what you wanted, and indeed it is what happened.
There were people from your law firm, friends from college and from law school, and as for Jeongguk’s peers, he invited only a small number of people he knew; he told you they were mostly family friends, some college friends too, and close relatives. Your father, Inhwan, couldn’t help but invite his own set of guests, mostly people he knew through the Don. Of course, that only meant that the Don and his wife were also present in the event, along with Jeongguk’s parents, Hanseo and Yeonjin, and Seokjin with his wife as well.
A lot of people gawked and praised your diamond engagement ring, gushing how it looked dashing on your beautiful hand and how Jeongguk must have really gone all the way to buy it for you. In the moments your fiancé heard such admiration, he, who was standing beside you all day, smiled and squeezed your waist, glancing at you before declaring that it’s because you only deserve the best every single time. Ladies shared meaningful looks of envy with each other and teased you for being so lucky; gentlemen whistled in hilarity and gave Jeongguk playful pushes. Anybody with two eyes saw how you both shared great love and respect for one another, that it was always either admirable or gut-wrenching (in a good way).
“Are you ready to be part of the family?” Seokjin suddenly popped beside you and handed you a champagne flute. Jeongguk just left to go to the bathroom and unbeknownst to you, had asked Seokjin to take his place for a while until he came back.
You thanked him. “Is that question some kind of test?”
“Yep. If you say the wrong answer, I get to claim that fancy ring as my prize.” He nodded at your hand where the ring glimmered in the hanging lights. “I think I can support my family with that for over a couple of years.”
You snickered at his sarcasm.
While you were growing up, you have always admittedly been closer to Seokjin than you were with Jeongguk. Before your fiancé officially entered your life and claimed what would soon be his permanent place, it was Seokjin who you frequently saw and hung around with. The two of you had a similar sense of humor that you found clear connection in; he was and acted like an older brother you never had—in Jeongguk’s case, he already was an adoptive brother of the young man for since the death of Seokjin’s parents when he was in high school, Hanseo, who was his godfather, took him in the family. Inhwan was there to fend for him too, hence why you two became close, however, there was a period in your friendship wherein it faded out a little when he went to the States to pursue his baccalaureate and Juris Doctor degree, a path that you too was supposed to take as an aspiring lawyer yourself but with your father having no one close to real family if you did, you opted to stay.
“Is it odd that I’m a little nervous about it?” you asked him after a few seconds of silence. “Like, me and Guk have been together for so long, and I know his family likes me, but why do I still feel like they might change their mind when we get married?”
“As in Yeonjin becomes an evil mother-in-law?” He smirked and you gave him a look at the question. “Your worries are pointless, really. You know they already adore you. Hell, even the Don loves you and that’s an achievement of its own. You don’t have anything to be troubled about, ____.”
“The Don loves everyone.” You sipped on your flute.
“He loves everyone who his family loves,” he corrected. “To others he’s just kind and generous.”
You scrunched your forehead together and stared then at the Don who sat on a table far from yours. He was talking to Hanseo and Inhwan, a rather somber expression on his face; his mouth moved in a slow and steady bearing. You’ve thanked him earlier for going still despite his obvious declining health. He was still able to do things on his own and appear like he has always been, but being one to know what’s really going on behind the glamour of Don Jungsoo, you were aware that his first case of having a stroke took its toll on him; a fact that you noticed the Jeon Family has been trying to conceal.
“Seokjin, can you be honest with me?” you suddenly began.
He glanced at you. “About what?”
“The reason why your family insists on having the wedding as soon as possible.” You turned to him. “It’s because of Don Jungsoo’s condition, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Just an observation.” You shrugged nonchalantly.
Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think questions like that ought to be asked to Jeongguk instead?”
“I already did.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“He said that he wants his grandfather to be present and healthy on the special day, that’s why we should get married as soon as possible.”
“Then that’s the reason.”
“That’s a reason,” you said. “I have a feeling there’s more.”
Seokjin stared at you and brought the rim of his champagne on his lips. “You’re a smart girl, princess,” he replied. “And because of that, I’m sure you’ll figure it out on your own.”
You dared to snort in amusement. You knew that Seokjin was another one who didn’t budge, but it was still worth the shot.
You wanted to be let in with whatever has been happening since the Don’s mishap as you didn’t think that the way they reacted was how a normal family would when the head of your clan just suffered from a stroke. They were still sympathetic, of course, overly concerned about the health of the Don, however you had felt the tension that rose within the Jeon Family in the days that Don Jungsoo remained lying unconscious on his hospital bed. You saw how troubled Jeongguk was, even saw your father look visibly stressed, though what you had found most peculiar were the way outsiders were reacting to the news of the Don falling ill. They were taking every opportunity to bring down his name and his family—referring to him with titles such as ‘mob boss’ and ‘king of the underworld’ that it was impossible for you not to be curious.
“What did I miss?” Jeongguk returned to your place with raised eyebrows. “What’s with the serious faces?”
“I was welcoming ____ to the family,” Seokjin told him.
You decided to play along. His disregard of the last conversation probably meant he wasn’t keen on talking about it again. “More like threatening me. He wants to steal my ring.” You laughed at the same time Seokjin did when he heard you.
“I’m going to see this more often, aren’t I?” Jeongguk’s arm snaked around your waist while his eyes moved back and forth between you two. “The both of you just constantly ganging up on me with inside jokes or whatever?”
“Maybe. That’s what makes ____ the best sister-in-law, though.”
“The only sister-in-law actually.” You snickered. Seokjin clinked his glass with yours.
After the engagement party took place, came the rapid planning for the wedding. Don Jungsoo was ever so kind to pledge that all expenses for the ceremony and the reception were to be paid by him, an offer that you wanted to reject for even though you appreciated his kindness with all of your heart, you didn’t want to burden him and take advantage of it in that kind of extent. Jeongguk convinced you not to do so and just go along with it though; he said that The Don gained happiness by doing favors like that to his loved ones, especially to his favorite grandson, as he proudly claimed. Jeongguk insisted that it would bring great satisfaction to his Grandpop to know that he made a huge contribution to an important event of both of your lives.
So, you agreed, and in five months’ time, the wedding ceremony commenced and with just a blink of an eye, you found yourself being a true married woman to Jeon Jeongguk. You vowed to love him endlessly and to always be by his side in a cathedral that fit hundreds of people, people who you either knew well or have never met in your whole life. But you found yourself not caring as much with the amount of individuals present like you initially did. All you cared about was how handsome Jeongguk looked in his midnight blue tuxedo and his hair styled in a fashion that had one side slicked back and the other had some strands falling on his forehead, his big and boyish grin that he displayed right after when he shed some tears as he saw you walk down the aisle, his promises of devotion to you from that point forward, and especially the strength and earnestness of his kiss when the priest finally said “You may now kiss the bride”.
“I love you,” he whispered to you as he leaned back, his face only centimeters away, those words the only thing processing in your head while the crowd clapped and cheered
You grinned, kissing him more. “And I love you.”
The reception was held in one of the Don’s owned properties, a spacious mansion that no doubt was able to cater the hundreds of guests present. It was decorated in line with yours and Jeongguk’s chosen theme for the reception which was rustic, fitting the also rustic architecture of the venue. There were dark wooden chairs and tables covered only partially with white linen tablecloth; hand-tied bouquets and florals with greenery on baskets at some parts of the walls; antique ornaments and lights hanging on the ceiling; and the ambiance of the place was simply just the way you both wanted, delighting you two when you first arrived.
You slightly grew self-conscious with the amount of guests again when the host introduced you and Jeongguk as a married couple. You scanned the audience and saw a lot of familiar faces—and they were familiar not because you knew them personally, but because you have seen them on TV or in a newspaper once. You were aware that the Don had a lot of friends from the entertainment industry too, but you didn’t think that some of them would actually be close enough with the Don to be invited to the wedding.
“Just say the magic word and I’ll bail us out,” Jeongguk said against your ear while a distant relative of his sang in the center of the hall. The fun games were over and the program was going towards its end, the only thing left were the warm messages and the performances that your loved ones prepared for the special day.
You turned to him and chuckled. “First of all, I have no idea of this magic word that you’re talking about. Second of all—that eager to get me alone, huh?”
His eyes glinted.
You two made a pack since your engagement party that you would not partake in any sexual acts (the most would only be making out or groping if the libido was too tough to handle) before the wedding to make the night of the honeymoon more awaited for. It wasn’t even that long, to be frank (okay, maybe it was—five months was a considerable long time) but it was the longest in a while that you haven’t had sex since you started doing such act with him. Jeongguk was okay with the idea and agreed that it’ll make the wedding night more worth the wait.
However, earlier at the room where the both of you changed into different clothes for the reception, Jeongguk had kissed you and you kissed him back with the same flaring passion he was showing, prompting an unplanned heavy make out session that also brought a palm of his on one of your ass cheeks, your husband squeezing it and groaning, murmuring how he couldn’t wait until later to have you again. You jokingly slapped it away and told him to be more patient, which he groaned louder for and kissed you one last time before finishing on dressing up.
“You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” he continued, still whispering close to your ear. “You looked so gorgeous in the wedding dress—and now look at you right now, angel. You’re really giving me the impression that you truly are a gift from the heavens.”
You smiled. You were wearing a more daring attire for the reception, a lace maxi dress with a straight neckline and thin shoulder straps; it had a slit on the right side just above your knee as well, but it wasn’t that aspect of the dress that made it daring, it was the fact it completely exposed your back from behind and only had strings tied across its ends to make it appear not completely backless.
“You can take it off for me later,” you told him with a smirk.
Jeongguk huffed at that. “Don’t plant the idea in my head or I’m going to have a boner all night.”
“Well, it’s only fair. Do you think I’m fine with your chest practically in my face?” you retorted, and in cue, flickered your gaze down to his chest where the polo he was wearing had three buttons opened, giving anyone the view of his impressive pecs.
He seemed pleased that you noticed it. “You’re more than welcome to take it off for me too.”
“I’ll rip it off you, sweetheart.” You chuckled and pecked the corner of his mouth. He hummed and placed a cheeky hand on your upper thigh at the action, and when your eyes followed where his hand was travelling, you automatically lowered it down to your knee. “Guk.”
“Okay, okay,” he frowned and faced his palm up, an invitation for you to intertwine it with his and you accepted the offer, “I’ll behave.”
For the rest of the night, after the special performances by good friends and family, the reception felt like a campaign and Jeongguk was the candidate as it neared its conclusion. Acquaintances and business partners talked and congratulated him—they congratulated you too, of course, but you sensed that it was only mere politeness that made them do so. Their real target was still the Don’s grandson and having the chance to butter him up for the sake of getting on the good side of Don Jungsoo. In fact, you think that Don Jungsoo was perhaps more acknowledged than you throughout the evening as you recalled the amount of men that went to his table and shook his hand in eagerness for the duration of the function.
“Really, Dad? You’re going to cry at this last moment?” you teased your father; his expression was solemn and he had his lips pursed as you bid him your farewells to go to the airport where you’ll be flying to Jeju Island for the honeymoon. He didn’t cry when he handed you to Jeongguk at the cathedral, or shed a tear when you shared your father-daughter dance at the reception, but now it looked like his tear ducts were finally surrendering in defeat.
“I’m not crying,” he denied, though his hug was tight when you embraced him. “You take care of yourself, okay?”
“I’m still coming back after two weeks, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, kiddo.” He pulled back and kissed you on the forehead, holding you out within arm’s length to gaze at you fondly. “I guess I’m a little overreacting. Imagine if your mom was still here.”
“No doubt there’ll be waterfalls coming from her eyes.” You joked. One of the fond memories you had of your late mother was how easy it was to trigger a tear from her.
“Inhwan,” Jeongguk just finished instructing some men to help with the luggages so he decided to join the two of you, “or is it Dad too from now on?”
Inhwan laughed lightly as the young man stood beside you. “Sure, why not? You’re officially my son-in-law now anyways.”
Jeongguk gestured for a hug and Inhwan complied. He patted Inhwan’s back and said with a soft voice, “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to always make ____ happy. She’s safe with me.”
“I know you will.” Inhwan grasped his shoulder when they both leaned away. “That’s why I like you so much, Guk. You’re a good one, you take care of my kid well.” They shared a smile.
While they continued to talk, you approached Hanseo, Yeonjin, and Jeongguk’s grandmother. You told them your thanks again for being part of the momentous occasion and for helping in making it happen in the way you wanted. Hanseo told you that it was no problem; Yeonjin kissed your cheek and said she was happy to finally have a daughter herself; Jeongguk’s grandmother embraced you and gave your cheek a kiss as well, saying there that she should begin passing on famous recipes in the Jeon household to you. Next, you moved to the Don who was just about to go ahead and sit at the backseat of his designated vehicle, but upon seeing you walk to him, stopped and waited until you two were finally standing face to face.
“Thank you so much for everything today, Don Jungsoo,” you said, bowing to show your respect. Even though the Don has been nothing but kind and goodhearted to you in the past years you have known him, you were still cautious whenever you interacted with the old man for the reason that is you were still intimidated by his presence and the powerful aura he gave off. “I appreciate it so much, truly, I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for being so generous.”
“You’re part of the family now, ____,” he clasped a hand of yours between his and tapped it gently, “so please feel comfortable to call me as Jeongguk would. It is I who should be thanking you for being there for my grandson no matter how difficult that boy can be. Everything I’ve done is nothing compared to the joy you’ve given him amidst the hardships he goes through everyday.”
“Oh, it comes both ways, I assure you. Jeongguk was clearly raised well for him to be this wonderful.”
“I hope that stays for a long time then—you and Jeongguk respecting and loving each other. One thing I’m sure in this withered life of mine is that loyalty plays a huge part in how events play out. The best investment you can ever have in your life is a good partner to spend it with.” He gave your hand another pat and then he let go. “Tell me if Jeongguk ever gives you a hard time and I’ll teach him a lesson.”
“That’s impossible, Grandpop.” Jeongguk walked from behind you and hugged his grandfather goodbye. “I don’t think you've noticed but ____ clearly has the pants in this relationship.”
They laughed, the Don’s laughter coming out as a wheeze though the smile on his face was unmistakably and genuinely amused. He said his final farewells to you two and you told him yours, saying too that you hope for him to keep on getting better that the Don appreciably smiled at and said his thanks. You watched as the vehicle he was in drove away, two more following closely behind as another led the path, placing the car where Don Jungsoo was in the middle.
“Ready to go?” Jeongguk asked when it was just you two there.
You smiled at him. “Yeah.”
You arrived at Jeju Island at about 10:56 PM that night. Out of all the places you could have gone to, you and him decided that Jeju Island was the one to go for the honeymoon because it was the same place where you celebrated your first anniversary in the past. Besides, you two didn’t want to go to another beautiful country and exhaust yourselves more with the travel time and all the arrangements you’d have to do for the location you’d be staying in for two weeks. The hotel you’ll be residing in was sponsored yet again by Jeongguk’s family.
“I hope you’re not too tired.” Jeongguk smirked at you while you both walked out of the elevator to head to the suite you were going to settle in for the mini vacation.
You glanced at him and smirked back; your hands were intertwined and you were swaying it back and forth childishly. “Me? Of course not.”
“You sure?”
“One hundred percent. How about you?”
“You really want to ask that?” He was looking at you differently now, eyes shaping themselves in a manner that you were all too familiar with.
“Well, I’m asking you because I’m just hoping you won’t sleep on me. I know we haven’t gotten proper action in months for you to miss this opportunity but let’s be real—when you’re tired, you’re tired.”
“I swear, I’m not.” He chuckled and paused with you as you arrived by the door. “I’m too pumped for me to be and indeed miss this opportunity.” He brought out the keycard, pressed it against the intended spot, and you heard the lock disengage with an audible click
At the sound of that, you began to get jitters. It was another one of those funny things you’ve been experiencing with anything related to Jeongguk since the engagement—that even though you’ve been with him practically half of your life and was one of the people you could be your absolute self and be assured you won’t be judge—you were starting to feel awkward and shy at times, such as this moment right here where even though Jeongguk had already kept the keycard back in his pocket and had opened the door to welcome yourselves to the room, you were frozen on where you stood, your feet seemingly stuck.
He appeared to have sensed your sudden showcase of reluctance for he abruptly faced you, his hands going on your bare arms as he smiled. “Let’s go?” He tilted his head towards the suite. Your luggages were already there, placed kindly by the hotel staff while you and Jeongguk were finalizing some papers at the lobby.
You shook every feeling of wariness away and nodded. At the gesture, Jeongguk’s smile widened into a grin and as fast as he could, he scooped you in his arms in what popular media would call ‘bridal style’, emitting a surprised yelp from you though you prevented your mouth from producing more noise by covering it with a hand while he walked further inside the room, kicking the door close behind him.
“Guk!” You laughed and he did too, face getting closer to yours until he captured your lips successfully.
You reciprocated as soon as you felt him kiss you, your arms being thrown around his neck so you could support yourself better. Jeongguk laid you down on the bed and you realized that rose petals were on them when your back hit the mattress, your eyes opening and spinning down to check if what you were thinking of were true and true enough, there they were. You had to make a mental note to thank the owner of the hotel for being accommodating enough to do the effort of creating a romantic atmosphere; they might do this as a standard for newly-weds, but the owner was a good friend of Hanseo’s so you wanted to express your gratitude personally.
“You said I could take this off, right?” Jeongguk ran his hands on the sides of your dress and you nodded.
He moved his mouth to your throat and kicked off with what he’s been yearning to do for those whole five months of not getting the proper taste of you. Despite the longing and the anticipation though, Jeongguk didn’t act rashly; instead he did anything rather excruciatingly slow—the way his lips moved against yours, how he untied the straps that enabled your dress to stay together, the manner in which he removed it from your body, planting wet kisses on your skin where the fabric of your dress previously glided on… fucking hell, you didn’t know whether you were trembling already because of his obvious unhurriedness or because you knew where his ministrations were going to take you.
“So pretty,” he breathed out raggedly as he squeezed your breasts. You were completely undressed before him as he intended, the only thing left was your white laced underwear that you wore to match the dress. “I think I’m going to nut by this sight of you alone, angel.”
You dared to chuckle. “Is it my turn to rip your polo off now?” Your hands were fondling the collar of his top.
“Be my guest.” He smirked.
Unlike him, you were swift in unbuttoning his long-sleeved polo, hastily pushing it past his shoulders to slide it off his arms. In the approximately ten seconds you did that, you kept on kissing him, sucking lightly on his lower lip, Jeongguk helping you in discarding the material away from his body as well. When that was done, he surged forward, laying over you on the bed, and you quickly carried on with removing his pants, briskly unbuckling his belt and unzipping it to grant you the freedom to tug it down his thighs.
As he pressed his body against you, you ultimately felt his hardness on your stomach, a sensation that you groan at, your insides tingling. You instinctively reached down and grabbed his cock over his boxers to feel it more, massaging and groping it, just the way he liked and what Jeongguk responded to by nibbling your jaw harshly. “Fuck,” he moaned before uttering a warning, “not too fast, not too fast.”
“Want you,” you pant, ignoring his protest, your palm not slowing down, “right now, Guk. Want your dick in my mouth.”
“Yeah?” He grunted, disposing of his boxers and flinging it off his feet. “Does my pretty wife want her mouth fucked first?”
You grinned at the title. It made your pussy clench into nothing. “Yes.”
He gnawed at your jaw before leaning back. “Scoot higher for me.” He instructed and you followed, backing up on the bed until you stopped at the pillows by the head. There were still petals all over the sheets that you had to flick them away with the back of your hand.
Jeongguk trailed his kisses from your knees up to your inner thighs, hands sensually caressing your sides then your breasts. He always had a thing for your tits; he received pleasure from just seeing them cupped by his hands, loved it when it jiggled when he fucked you hard—the image of that alone popping in his head making him harder. Without delay then, he proceeded on going forth with your request, Jeongguk kneeling over you, both of his knees on either side of your shoulders, the tip of cock on your chin.
There was precum leaking on it, a sight that you salivated at. Jeongguk gave his shaft a few strokes, teasing you by gliding the end of his dick on your lips. “Shit,” he groaned when he indulged himself in finally pushing his cock inside your mouth, “that feels so good already, angel. Just like that—I missed that mouth.”
His thrusts were relaxed. He didn’t really want to rush. He gently ran his fingers through your hair and pushed all loose strands away, wanting to get a clear view of your face. You had your eyes closed and you were bobbing your head voluntarily to meet each thrust of his hips. At one instance, you let the tip reach the farthest it could go and you gagged a little, pulling back with a heavy gasp. Jeongguk stretched behind him and touched your clothed heat, feeling how soaked it already was and how just a light press brought a lengthy moan out of you.
“Fuck, fuck.” He cursed as he fucked your mouth faster, your hand palming his balls, though upon the last minute, once his cock was starting to pulsate and his balls were tightening, he pulled back.
You exhaled, some saliva connecting your lips and his cock, and Jeongguk kissed your mouth sloppily before he slithered down to stop right in front of your cunt, working faster now as he pulled your underwear off and dived right in between your legs, sucking and slurping on your clit with a profound determination. His groans and grunts added to the pleasure—you loved hearing him get so into the act of whatever it was that he was doing to drive you crazy—craved it at times even, his sweet sounds even staying in your mind after you were both done. Jeongguk spreaded your lips and spat right on them and went back in, growling.
“So sweet. I’ve been dreaming about tasting this pussy again,” he said, two fingers rubbing it as his tongue licked your clit. “I could drink you up all night.” He inserted the fingers right in your hole and you mewled, arching your back slightly at the movement, moreso as he rapidly pushed it in and out, all the while still sucking your bundle of nerves. It felt like it was going on forever; everything was so good and your toes were curling already in anticipation. He switched between fucking you with his digits and his tongue, your walls welcoming the muscle every time and giving him something to taste.
“Ah—holy shit, I’m close—” you grabbed a fistful of his hair— “fucking hell—I’m going to come.”
The usual thing that Jeongguk would have done was keep up with his speed until you were coming on his face, your juices right on his mouth, his chin, just everywhere—but he stopped, for he had already thought that if there was anywhere you would be coming on for the first time in the last five months, it was going to be on his cock. And so he pulled away and hauled you closer by dragging you towards him roughly with your thighs. You gasped at the sudden showcase of strength, Jeongguk dropping back over you to devour your breasts.
His shaft was pressing against your heat, so near that it was causing you to be more impatient. Jeongguk nibbled a bud and squeezed the other, noisy and so fucking erotic it was sending you off to another space. You couldn’t take it anymore; you tried rubbing your folds together on his dick.
“Fuck me, Guk—please, please,” you begged and cried. “I can’t—I wanna feel you so bad now.”
He stopped paying attention to your tits and looked up, his hair messy and his eyes completely dazed. He brought himself higher so your faces were in level and kissed you; you still tasted what’s left of you in his mouth. “You want my cock inside your pussy?” he asked.
You nodded hastily. “Want it, please.”
“Really? How much?”
“So fucking much.”
“Is that the best thing you could do?” His fingers wrapped itself on your jaw and he tightened his grip. It didn’t hurt, just made you steady—made you pay more attention to reality; he knew you liked it. “Beg harder for it, angel,” he said, looking straight in your eyes now.
You whined. “Please, please, please—I want it.” You marveled his chest, your palms appreciably massaging his pecs. “I want you to fuck me hard—want you to come in my pussy, fill me up so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” His fingers moved to your throat as he leaned back. “You want me to knock you up on our wedding night?”
“Jeongguk—please—fuck me, please.”
He dared to chuckle at the desperation. “Well, who am I to deprive my wife of what she wants, hmm?” He began to align his dick on your entrance. It’s been too long since his manhood was directly on your heat that even he shudders at the contact. “My beautiful wife deserves to be fucked good, doesn’t she?” It was obvious how the fondness of calling you his wife was already planted within him in the not even 24 hours of being married.
You were definitely not thinking straight anymore as he pushed it in. “Yes, yes, yes—” you moaned the words out in a chant, the stretch his cock does to your cunt compelling a louder cry from you in pleasure.
Jeongguk too was desperate. He fucked you fast and hard straight off which your slickness allowed him to do so without difficulty. His fingers that remained on your throat tightened in just the right amount, choking you in just the right way as he kept himself at a distance while he hovered over you. Jeongguk has always been a mix of aggressive and loving when it came to bed; it was either he was too aggressive or excessively loving, both that you didn’t have any complaints about. At the end of each ‘session’, he always satisfied you nonetheless and made you feel absolutely amazing—you never had one encounter with him that had you dismayed or upset after.
You were really getting close the more he rocked against you. You weren’t one too hard to be pleased—to trigger an orgasm from—especially if it’s Jeongguk we were talking about here, and given the five-month long of abstinence from sex to make this first night of the honeymoon extra worthwhile, you were too sensitive to hold back and control yourself from coming already. Jeongguk of course sensed that you were close, he groaned and growled whenever you clenched around his cock, your warm walls bringing him to the edge alongside you.
“You gonna come, angel?” He let go of your throat and was spreading your legs further, pushing and bending you forward. “Gonna come for me?”
You nodded, unable to speak, and he gave you one last hard kiss before he paused in working his hips to start lifting you up, erupting another whine from you for you were already there at the very last second when he did so, though you tried to make yourself as light as possible as he sat and made you sit on him, his cock not leaving your cunt. You got the hint and attached your mouth back on his, riding him in a fast pace instantly, continuing on where the both of you left on.
Jeongguk gave your ass a hard slap and gripped them firmly, bouncing you up and down on his dick faster. “That’s it, that’s it,” he grumbled, sliding his hand down to strum your clit, “that’s right, fucking use my cock to get off. That cock is fucking yours to use.”
You threw your head back and he used that as an opportunity to lavish on your chest, sucking and licking, and with the overwhelming sensation of his dick, the friction, the stimulation on your clit—in an abrupt snap, you came hard without warning, practically screaming his name as you did so, thighs convulsing uncontrollably, Jeongguk moaning too, cupping your face and dragging it close to his so he could kiss you and add to the pleasure you were experiencing.
You rode him until your thighs were aching and until he was on the verge of coming himself. Jeongguk urged you off him and turned you on your back when he was close, the side of your face falling on the mattress. He held your hips up, pushed your upper half down further, and fucked you senseless immediately, not wasting time, overstimulating your sensitive pussy but it was too good to ask him to stop.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good—so tight, don’t know how I fucking lived without the feel of this for fucking months—” he moaned and gave your ass another hard slap, the sound of it ringing in your ears and making you clench. Jeongguk cursed again at the action and bent down to press his chest against you, sloppy kisses given on your shoulders and neck. “I’m gonna come. Gonna come inside you.”
“Please,” you choked out.
“You too. Come with me, angel.”
“Guk,” you whined, your tone protesting.
He was ramming onto your harder, his hips going haywire, and his hand went under your bodies to caress your breast, fingers pinching the bud. “Please—fucking, holy shit—I know you can. I know you can come for me. You’re my good girl. My sweet—” he shoved his cock deeper, pulling back from the tip and then pushing it all in— “sweet, fucking, beautiful girl.”
It is when he did that previous movement for a couple of times and whispered more praises in your ear that you found yourself experiencing another orgasm the same time that finally he too came with a very audible groan, his thick seed spilling inside you and filling you up. He squeezed your ass harshly, nails digging on them a bit, and then he pulled out after a few more thrusts, eating your pussy from behind right after as if everything wasn’t enough. He groaned at the taste of his cum mixed with your juices; he felt blood rushing to his dick again at the arousing taste of it and the image of your swollen cunt a second ago with his seed pouring down.
“Guk,” you whined, “too… too much,” you said when it was really starting to hurt.
Jeongguk leaned his face away and calmed down, granting soft kisses on your buttcheeks, his kisses travelling upwards until he had you laying on your back again, his mouth back on yours. “I missed fucking you,” he declared explicitly and you had the nerve to laugh, the pit of your stomach tingling in agreeableness.
“Told you it was worth it,” you bothered to joke and Jeongguk chuckled, his breathing ragged but he was composing himself, raising his head and looking at you.
“You’re worth it,” he said.
Your heartbeat escalated—as if it hadn’t been beating fast enough with the events that just transpired—and you placed your palm on his cheeks, stroking it affectionately. “You too. I love you so much, Jeongguk.”
He nuzzled his nose against yours, smiling, endearing bunny-like features showcasing themselves; he appeared like a different person from the man who was just drilling your cunt a while ago. “I love you much more, my angel.”
“No, no, that’s unfair. No one gets to love the other more.”
“It’s true though,” he argued. “But I didn’t mean that as a way to compete with what you feel—I’m just saying I love you much more. Much more than I can always say.”
You squinted your eyes at him and laughed. “Okay, Dr. Cheesy.”
“You laughing at me?” He playfully grazed his teeth against your earlobe and you squealed, Jeongguk chuckling.
You smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt; you kissed him repeatedly, wounding your arms around his shoulders, sighing in peace and thanking the universe for setting you up with a man as extraordinary as your husband. He returned the gesture and the both of you continued to consummate your marriage again and again throughout the night, the passion and the intimacy undeniable as what should be expected with newly-weds who were deeply in love with each other.
That prevailed in the next few days to come. You and Jeongguk were going at it like—well, as you liked to describe him as—as bunnies. You two were practically never seen outside the hotel suite except for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, sometimes even skipping going to the buffet area and opted for room service instead. Though when all the oxytocin died down (there were still left, but controlled) and you weren’t taking the other’s clothes off in every chance that either of you could get, you went to the beaches and famous travel spots around the island.
There you had the opportunity to do all the things your busy lives couldn’t let you two do. Both of you went hiking to famous mountains, visited majestic waterfalls and caves—you and Jeongguk even went horseback riding where he showed you some serious skills that you don’t think you’ve had the chance to see before, and generally just headed to all the tourist attractions your itinerary contained. All throughout, you forgot about your life waiting in Seoul for a while, this honeymoon with Jeongguk proving to be an event that you most definitely wanted to recreate in the future if said life allowed you to.
“I don’t know if I’m aroused or disturbed,” Jeongguk whispered to you while you two stared at a sculpture of a man and a woman clearly having sex; the woman was doing some kind of handstand and the man was behind her, supporting her and quite frankly, had his penis inside her too. One of your destinations was the famous Loveland in Jeju Island, where apparently there was really a lot of R rated art involved all over the park just like what you’ve been briefed about.
You snickered. “Maybe we’ve been having sex too much that it’s not as exciting to see.” You tilted your head to the side to get a better look at it. The details amazed you.
“Absolutely not,” he disagreed with a scrunched forehead, gazing at the sculpture too in interest still. “Do you think we can do that position later?”
Your hand flew up to hit his chest at the sudden question, eyes widening. “Jeongguk!”
“What?” He was grinning already though. “Is it wrong for me to ask?”
“Can you not ask it at this second?” You laughed. Your face was already burning at just the thought of Jeongguk having you in that position.
“So, you’re down to do it then?”
“No,” you gave him a look, “and even if I was, I don’t think I can carry myself and be able to do what the lady is doing.”
He nodded as if he was in deep thought. Jeongguk was wearing a familiar button down polo that day, the same orangish yellow Fendi one you had teased him for when he first officially asked you out, and even in the five years that has passed, he still looked unbelievably delicious on it, his tattoos that have gained in number on full display and a new set of sunglasses hooked on the front of his top, tugging it lower than normal. “I mean, we can do it while on the bed, like without you doing the handstand.”
“You really want to try it, don’t you?”
“You mentioned us having sex and now you planted the idea, angel. It’s your fault.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes and looped an arm around his. “Let’s get out of this place before you get any more ideas.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a no, sweetheart.”
You still did it however—the revised version of course—that very night as well. You’ve concluded once more that there’s just no way you could ever resist Jeongguk the moment he begins working his charm. He knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted; you thought that it’s because he always got what he wanted too in the entirety of his existence that he was already a master in memorizing what people wanted to hear or see from him to make them do him the favor. At some point when you were just starting to get friendly with Jeongguk, you constantly teased him for being a spoiled grandson of the Don and he would retaliate playfully that you were a spoiled daughter too by your father. You had said that ‘okay, that makes us even then’, but you still thought that your level of being spoiled was no match to his.
Despite that, Jeongguk never appeared to be arrogant or entitled. He was raised well by his family who were the first to get a taste on how to slowly rise up to power by working diligently and then getting the eventual desired result. From what Jeongguk told you on the intimate nights you have shared before, his father introduced him to their business at a young age and taught him everything necessary to know, his knowledge increasing the same time his age did in due course. He studied overseas for college at the Don’s wishes, returned after he finished and got his degree, and met you officially a few months later when he entered your home with Inhwan. Since then and since you pursued a relationship with him, Jeongguk has never been anything but lovely. It caused you suspicion at first for you didn’t believe that a man your age could be that mature and that understanding, but Jeongguk was simply ‘built different’ that you later on went along with the fact that he was just truly extraordinary.
When the last four days of the honeymoon came in, business related calls were disturbing you and Jeongguk at random hours of the day. You had an associate you worked on a case with who was studying and running errands for you for the meantime, a minor real estate case that was going to have its first hearing in a month, and the topic he usually brought up when he continuously called or messaged you. Jeongguk, on the other hand, seemingly had more pressing issues with JSG; he was the President of the company after all.
You peeked out on the balcony where Jeongguk just answered a call. “Guk? The car we booked to that dining place just arrived. The driver’s already in the lobby.”
He glanced at you. His face was serious and he raised a hand up, a signal to ask you if you would wait. You nodded and pretended to let him mind his own business while you checked your purse if you’ve forgotten anything—you said pretended because even though you were doing all that, you stole subtle glances at his direction, his back facing you and the only view you had the opportunity to see through the glass door. However, his arm movements were still discernible and at the instance he suddenly brought a hand on top of his hair, distressed, head nodding vigorously, you were positive that he just received some kind of bad news.
You no longer hid how you were staring at him; you paused whatever it was that you were being busy with and waited until Jeongguk finished the call. As he did, he didn’t even bother putting his phone back in his pocket; he just raised the hand that was holding it to accompany the other one already on his hair before sitting down on the sun lounger with a motion that came out like he slipped. You didn’t think twice about marching out to talk to him.
“Hey,” you gently touched his back, “who was that? Anything wrong?”
Jeongguk looked up and your worry escalated when you got a glimpse of his tear-filled eyes. “He passed on, ____. Grandpop—he didn’t… he got another stroke and—Pop said he didn’t make it this time.”
“Oh my god—Guk, I’m so sorry.” You automatically engulfed him in an embrace and Jeongguk fully let himself cry in what felt like frustration, his face turning towards your neck where you felt his tears dampen your skin. You whispered words of comfort as he sobbed, rubbed his back and carressed the back of his head; Jeongguk showed you a newfound kind of vulnerability at the knowledge that his grandfather was no longer alive and made it apparent that you were going to be here for him and that everything was going to be okay.
You didn’t know the true impact of it—but the death of Don Jungsoo was definitely the last thing any member of the Jeon Family wanted, which meant unlike what you were murmuring, everything was not going to be okay.
━ CHAPTER V.
The trick with the wedding worked. Seokjin informed Jeongguk before he got in the car to the venue of the reception that there were for sure spies sent from the other prominent Seoul Families to oversee the ceremony. By that time, the associates would have already informed their Caporegimes and the Caporegimes would have already informed the underboss as well who would have relayed the message to their respective Dons. Jeongguk was glad to hear that, thankful that at least their efforts of arranging everything and marrying you quite early on than what both of you preferred didn't go to waste.
For the first week of the honeymoon, at early dawn when he woke up before you would, he’d shared a call with either Seokjin or his father. They included him in all business related transactions and heard his side to forward it with the Don when they discussed it with him. Don Jungsoo only approved or declined any plans they had or prepositions from other people they received, then Hanseo acted his demands out as the active underboss. Don Jungsoo was going to retire soon, the Godfather established it when he was restored to health, and wanted Hanseo and especially Jeongguk to be more concerned with the business now that he was a few steps away from officially handing over the business.
Though upon the Don’s sudden yet still foreseeable death, despite how they’ve been preparing for something as terrible as this to fall to the Jeon Family, Hanseo was still shaken to be deemed as the new Don of the clan and be the head of their syndicate. Even if he saw himself as adequate and intelligent enough for the position, Hanseo knew he wasn’t as great as the late Don Jungsoo to live up to his father’s shoes. Perhaps his son, Jeongguk, was more fit for it than he was ever going to be, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bestow such responsibility unless Jeongguk was given no choice. For now, Hanseo had to do extremely good on his reign and prove to the members that he was deserving to be the Godfather.
Ultimately, Jeongguk took the death of his grandfather more badly than he thought. He was still rational and handled it the way Don Jungsoo would have wanted him to; however deep inside, there was a fire of hatred and anger burning inside of him that he only released in sessions at the gym where he boxed his frustration out, upset that Don Jungsoo’s passing had to happen when he was having the time of his life with you. He didn’t regret the honeymoon or wished that he had done anything differently in the last few weeks—it was just he didn’t understand why an unfortunate incident had to fall upon his Family when he thought things were beginning to go back to the way they were.
Jeongguk remembered how Don Jungsoo didn’t like the plan with the publicity stunt at the wedding when Hanseo informed him. He shook his head profusely, saying then that weddings are intimate ceremonies and should not be mixed with business; he said that he didn’t want his grandson to get married out of the blue just so they can show off his (then) improving health to the other Families.
“I was intending to marry ____ soon anyways, Grandpop,” Jeongguk reasoned. “Why not hit two birds with one stone?”
“You are?” Don Jungsoo mused. “You’re not saying that just to appease me?”
“It’s true,” Seokjin vouched for Jeongguk. “Guk’s been thinking about it even before we were planning this.”
The Don snorted and smiled, the first since a while. “Well, it’s about time. You need a woman like that in your life, Jeongguk. You don’t meet a lot of her kind these days.”
“I agree.” Jeongguk chuckled. “So, we’ll go forth with it, won’t we?”
The Don shrugged. “All I have to do is to not look sickly, don’t I?”
“Which I’m sure you’ll do fine, Pop,” Hanseo assured himself more than he did to Don Jungsoo. “Dr. Hwang said you’re improving. We’re going to plan the wedding and hold it as early as we can too.”
“Alright. Tell Inhwan not to spend a dime on his daughter’s wedding. I’m willing to pay for all the expenses.”
“That includes my share too, right?” Hanseo joked and the Don cracked another smile.
It did go on to be successful as they hoped. The Three Families that stood along them—the Lee Family, Yang Family, and Park Family—got the message that Don Jungsoo was well and managed to attend his grandson’s wedding in a great state. Operations continued to be quiet and the waging tension within the Mafia faltered as no one no longer questioned the health of Don Jungsoo, thus seeing the Jeon Family as credible once again. Of course, it wouldn’t have been too long as well before they all of the sudden hear the revelation that the same healthy man they were told about suffered a stroke while sleeping and no longer woke up.
“Let’s book the next flight back to Seoul,” you said after minutes of just holding Jeongguk in your arms. He was sobbing, his nose running and his head already thumping because of how hard he has been pouring his emotions out.
Jeongguk cried like a kid and he hated it whenever he did. It was not something he had control of though and he was just thankful that it was only you who had the chance to see him that way when he broke down after being called and notified by Hanseo. “Not yet,” Jeongguk replied, “I’ll, I’ll have to… I’ll have to call—”
“I’ll do it,” you finished for him, stroking his hair one last time and standing up to go back inside the room and get your phone.
He held your wrist; he looked a little disoriented to form his thoughts properly and his cheeks were still wet, his eyes glassy from sobbing. “No, ____, it’s best if—”
“I’m going to call my dad and he’ll be in charge of our flight back,” you cut him off again. “Or would you want me to call Seokjin instead?”
He stared at you, puzzled for a millisecond, but he was always under the impression that you already had an idea of what he and the Family truly did. You just didn’t confront him about it or made it too apparent that you knew something that wasn't intended to be known yet. Well, at least, not yet, you didn’t. “That would be better,” he affirmed your last statement. “But you should use my phone. This phone.”
You nodded and got the phone from his grasp before doing as said. Jeongguk was transparent to you early on that he used two phones; he used one for personal matters and the others for business affairs. Your number was on both devices.
Seokjin indeed handled yours and Jeongguk’s safe flight back. As you both arrived at the Jeon Residential Area—the place where the houses of the Don, Hanseo, Seokjin, and yours and Jeongguk’s were already built along with the other vacant ones intended for guests—there were a large number of men waiting for both of your arrival. Seokjin was there by the gate, a phone in his hand, talking to somebody else, though when he spotted the two of you getting out of the car, he rushed to end the call and walked towards Jeongguk, embracing the younger boy tightly with only one arm while he used the other to reach for you as well.
“I’m sorry the honeymoon was cut short,” Seokjin said.
“Jin, don’t be ridiculous, that shouldn’t be something to apologize for,” you answered.
“Grandma’s been crying for hours,” Seokjin said again, this time more to Jeongguk, “you two should go ahead and make your presence known.”
“You should go ahead, angel.” Jeongguk rubbed your back. “I’ll just talk to Jin for a bit.”
You nodded and walked to the front steps of the door. Once you entered and was out of earshot, Jeongguk turned back to his adoptive brother who had a melancholic expression. Seokjin’s eyes were a bit puffy and when he talked earlier, his voice was hoarse, meaning that like Jeongguk, he had been mourning over the death of the Don.
“Where’s Grandpop now?”
“At the mortuary. Your dad’s there with him and Inhwan and some members of his regime. They’ll be bringing him back in an hour or so or whatever how long it takes to get the old man ready. We’ll be holding the wake here in the house and they’re already preparing the space for it, some people are already cleaning it—the garden, that’s where it’ll be, yeah.” Seokjin appeared as disoriented as Jeongguk was in Jeju Island. “You have a cigarette, Guk?” he abruptly asked.
Jeongguk sighed at him. “No. I already quit, remember? I thought you did too.”
“Yeah, but I really need a smoke right now. All of this is making me crazy.” He sighed and glanced at some of the men who were nearby to where they were standing, one of them taking something from inside their jacket to reveal a cigarette box, Seokjin dashing to the guy and getting a stick, placing it between his lips and letting the soldier light it up for him. Returning next to Jeongguk again, he puffed out a smoke with a relieved breath. “Don’t tell my wife about this,” he told him.
Jeongguk grimaced. “I don’t need to. She’d smell it on you immediately. And seriously, Jin, you were doing well on not lighting a single cigarette for over a year.”
“Just one and I promise, I’ll stop,” Seokjin said and began speaking again, his previous sentence not taken seriously by himself. “I’m going to arrange a meeting with all of the Don’s important and political contacts after his funeral, one by one.” Seokjin got straight to the point. It was a time for grieving supposedly, but business doesn’t stop along with everything else when something terrible happens, and so Seokjin wanted to get it out the way as soon as Jeongguk arrived. “They’re going to be talking to Hanseo—I’ll be there too, of course, and so will you—and we’re going to see if they’ll remain affiliated with our Family. It’s best if we establish that early on and be clear where we stand. Without the Don, we’ll surely be losing half of our assets if Hanseo doesn’t convince them that they’ll still be gaining something from us.” He blew out more smoke.
Jeongguk watched it get lost by the windy night. “That’s good. We should keep the business going as it always has been. No need to make it a bigger deal than it really is. I mean, it is a big deal—we just don’t make it look that way to others, don’t make it seem like we’re lost or that we even think that the business is going to be hopeless from now on. It’s common sense and the obvious response but I wanted to reiterate it to let you know.”
“I get it. We can talk about that more when Hanseo gets home with the Don. We’ll discuss it too with Inhwan at the office.” Seokjin finished the cigarette quickly and threw it on the ground, crushing it with his feet. Though living within the Jeon Residential Area and accepted as an official member of the real Jeon family, he never once called the Don ‘Grandpop’ or Hanseo as his ‘Pop’. He always placed a barrier between himself and Jeongguk’s family but strangely cared for them like he was blood-related still. When it came to Jeongguk, he treated him like a real younger brother. “How are you, kid? Before I forget to ask and force you to go follow inside the house.”
Jeongguk chuckled halfheartedly. “I’m fine. I feel like shit. But I’m fine. You?”
“Likewise.” He snorted. “I’m just wishing that we’ll pull through this as smoothly as we can.”
They went inside after the short conversation and Jeongguk’s mood further deflated at the sight of his grandma in absolute tears. His mother, Yeonjin, was comforting the old lady and you were there doing the same, serving her with a warm cup of tea to soothe and calm her with Seokjin’s wife. Seokjin went to the kitchen to grab a mint and Jeongguk approached you four sat on the couch, going beside his grandmother and embracing her. He listened to her stories of distress, of how she loved the Don and has never loved another man in her whole life besides him. She said that though it hurt to have him leave earlier, she was glad that Don Jungsoo had passed in a peaceful death—in his sleep, and not by any means of violence, to which Jeongguk agreed to with a nod.
By 2:07 AM, Jeongguk’s uncles had arrived and they’ve taken his place beside the grieving wife of the Don who still couldn’t sleep until Don Jungsoo’s body and casket was placed at the garden and properly arranged. Jeongguk excused himself after giving his greetings to his uncles and subtly searched the house for you; he last seen you go upstairs where the bedrooms were with Yeonjin, and peeking at each one when he went upstairs to look harder, he saw you at one of the guest rooms, laying on the mattress though he was fast to notice that you had your eyes wide open to assume you were already sleeping.
He entered and purposely made enough noise to have you acknowledge him, and you did with a snap of your head to his direction, your eyes softening the second your gazes met. “Hey,” you said.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” He walked to the side of the bed where you were at. “Our luggages are back at our house, just so you know. We’d have to unpack but we can do that in the morning. The master’s bedroom is already ready though; you can sleep there for the night if you find it uncomfortable here.”
You slowly sat up and leaned back at the headboard. Jeongguk perched close to you and grabbed a hold of your hand on your stomach. “Aren’t you tired?” you questioned.
“I am.” He pressed his mouth together. “But I want to wait until they bring home Grandpop though. You should go to sleep, angel.”
“Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when someone comes and finds you?”
“I think we both know better than to assume I’ll be waking up that easily with a nap.”
You chuckled. “I’ll kick you off the bed then if I have to.”
“I’ll wait with the others,” he said with a smile. “Besides, I haven’t talked to Pop in person. Haven’t seen Grandpop again either. I don’t want to wait too long for that.”
You nodded and fondled with his fingers. “Well, can you at least lay with me? For five minutes?”
Jeongguk chuckled, poking his tongue on his cheek before it was his turn to nod slowly, gesturing for you to move and give space for him. “For just five minutes.”
He laid down and wrapped an arm around your shoulders while you hugged his torso and pressed your cheek against his chest. You heard his fast beating heart, heard each breath he took, and the both of you said nothing for a short time. Jeonggguk ran his thumb up and down your arm and you played with the fabric of his shirt, the silence comforting yet daunting in an odd way for Jeongguk who abruptly thought of your actions back at the suite in Jeju. At that second, he was thinking if he should begin introducing the concept of the business to you—just a snippet of it—a vague description that would give you an answer but a lacking one for the events that would come. He could never explain the whole thing to you, the Cosa Nostra, unless it was the most ideal thing to do anyways; he stuck by their code and even if he didn’t, he didn’t want to stress you with the knowledge of what his Family did.
You managed to fall asleep in his arms and Jeongguk gently moved you to a better position on the bed before he kissed your temple, tucked you in, and left the room to go downstairs. It was 3:39 AM and he was sure that they were already arranging Don Jungsoo’s wake at the garden. His ears caught the engines of vehicles and the slams of the doors, followed by incoherent chatter and clicks of glasses that no doubt were shared by Caporegimes who fled from their territory to visit the Godfather.
“Guk,” Hanseo said when Jeongguk appeared from the staircase, “I’m glad that you’re here.” He was holding a glass of whiskey in another hand, eyes bloodshot and face looking older.
Jeongguk frowned as he walked towards him. “How are you, Pop?”
“We’re on our own now, Guk.” He ignored the question and clasped a hand on Jeongguk’s opposite shoulder. “I’m counting on you the most starting from now on. You got that? We have to keep the business running steady now that Pop’s gone.”
“Don’t worry,” he sighed, “we’ll sort it out.”
“I know, I know, of course, I do.” He drank the entirety of the glass in one gulp. “You’re my underboss now, kid. You’ve always been a strength in the Family—now I need you to divide your regime, your soldatos, to other factions—you’re going to be more hands on in this than you ever were.”
“Alright.” Jeongguk agreed. “I’ll do anything you want me to do. For now, you should stop drinking. You don’t want to get too drunk to entertain the soldatos and the guests that’ll go here. We have to talk too with Seokjin and Inhwan later.”
Hanseo nodded rapidly and to prove that he wasn’t going to drink more, placed the glass down on one of the tables in the living room with a rather loud thud. Jeongguk gave him a look but said nothing and just focused on striding to the garden where indeed the coffin of the Don was now situated. He inhaled deeply and watched the men from the funeral home organize the flowers and other necessary stands; his grandmother was also there, wiping the glass that enclosed Don Jungsoo in the casket that made approaching him harder for Jeongguk. Though when he and his grandma made contact and the old lady beckoned him to come closer like a child, he did and ashe saw him lying there, at peace and groomed in the best possible way, Jeongguk no longer found it hard to accept the reality of his passing, the thought that the Godfather deserved the long rest he had in stored now was enough to make Jeongguk feel better about it.
The wake of the late Don was attended by various personalities. The most controversial being policemen, judges, lawyers, prosecutors, and even politicians. Of course, the Dons of the other Three Families paid their respects as well, personally coming to the Jeon Residential Area and even going to the funeral afterwards when it was held a week after it. During that period, Jeongguk discussed with Hanseo and Seokjin repeatedly, sometimes including Inhwan at the meeting too. They handled everything needed to be addressed about the business; they went with what Seokjin said prior, which was talking with the contacts of Don Jungsoo and ensuring that their affiliation remained with the Jeon Family. Majority of them guaranteed that they’ll be honoring their friendship with the Don even after his death and that it can be counted on that their loyalty will still stand with their clan; the little others left though asked for understanding and some time to think about it for some organizations have also begun negotiating with them.
“It’s the Lee Family,” Hanseo said, sitting on the leather chair inside the office of Don Jungsoo; it felt strange to see him over there instead of his grandfather, Jeongguk thought, “they’re hoarding as much as they can. They’re trying to bring themselves to the top again. They even took the bait of Jang Yeocheol’s casino plans that Don Jungsoo didn’t want to take part in.”
“It’ll bring them more money, that’s why,” Seokjin said. “The casino will be used for narcotic operations. They’ve agreed to finance Yeocheol’s business and even pledged to protect him from the authorities with their legal contacts. It’s a logical route to go. Drugs are the leading commerce now, it’s being introduced in South Korea further; however, it’s the kind of filth Don Jungsoo didn’t want us to go with. He was already aggravated with the strip joints and all that when we caved into prosititution—drugs was the last thing he wanted to have associated with our Family.”
“Yeocheol will certainly want to talk to you again, Pop. He’ll want to restate and propose that we invest in him once more now that you’re the new Don. He’ll be hoping that you won’t have the same mindset as Grandpop and accept his offer this time,” Jeongguk told Hanseo.
“I wouldn’t want to go against one of my father’s last decisions.” Hanseo leaned back on his chair and sighed. “If Yeocheol arranges a meeting, we’ll entertain him, out of respect and courtesy. Ask a few questions too that we didn't get to ask last time for it was Pop leading. But we won’t dive into the business of narcotics, that’s already for sure. Do you have any objections about that, Consigliere?” He nodded at Seokjin.
“I’ll be honest,” Seokjin started off, “if it was Don Jungsoo who was about to get offered with it again, I would have said yes at this instance. Like I mentioned, drugs are the leading commerce these days, and I genuinely think it’d be good for us if we take a shot at it while it’s still slowly booming in the country.”
“But I’m not my father,” Hanseo supplied Seokjin’s reasoning early on and Seokjin nodded.
“You’re not, and we’re still at risk of losing some of our contacts and our legal defenses—one of them is even part of the Supreme Court and two are senior prosecutors. What Yeocheol wanted from us was legal protection, that was his main target, given Don Jungsoo’s connections and his power. So without that, I can only guess that his offer won’t be as grand as the last one. He’ll try to maybe it a little higher so we’ll bite, but the determining factor on how much we will gain from this is how much we will invest in the business still. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that��it’s just that are we going to be comfortable with the fact that the Lee Family is going to gain more from it than we will?”
“I’ll go with you when he asks for another meeting,” Jeongguk said to Hanseo. “I’d like to hear his offers face to face again.”
“What happens when the offer’s good then? Do you think we should go for it?” Hanseo asked him.
Jeongguk shrugged. “I doubt it will be significantly better, or I at least doubt it’ll be better than the Lee’s. We’re going to be second in his priority list with that Family in the picture. But with the question of whether we should go for it or not, I’d like to reckon that we should. Let’s not involve ourselves with the operations though, it will be too risky for us, considering our state at the moment, but perhaps we should focus more on financing and a bit of what we could do for legal protection as an initial contribution to his business. Then we can see where it’ll take us or maybe we’ll just stick to that initial contribution, to honor what Grandpop’s would have wanted.”
Seokjin and Hanseo shared a look; the both of them were thinking of the same thing, Jeongguk had the same rationality, practicality, and leniency as his late grandfather. The way he even enlightened them with what he thought held the same aura as Don Jungsoo. “Okay,” Hanseo showed his approval with a raise of his eyebrows, “it’s time for us to wait for their move then.” He concluded their discussion at that note.
Another week passed and Seokjin received a call from Yeocheol himself, the man asking if he could arrange a meeting with the new Don of the Jeon Family just like what Jeongguk had predicted. Seokjin told him that he will contact him again after he forwards the message to Hanseo and within the next two days, the appointment was made to happen, Hanseo, Seokjin, and Jeongguk present at the private room inside a restaurant that Yeocheol booked for the occasion. There they discussed about the business, what Yeocheol wanted, what the Jeon Family would do and get if they partake in it, and at the end, Hanseo still declined as what Don Jungsoo did—the only difference was that Don Jungsoo was better with his words and better at appeasing the person he’s breaking the news on that the Jeon Family will not meddle with their affairs.
In Hanseo’s case, he didn’t possess that kind of ability, didn’t have a smooth tongue or the charm to win the favor of the opposing party despite his decision, and so when they left the venue, Yeocheol was mad and contacted the Consigliere of the Lee Family. He was going to make Hanseo regret his choice and withdraw it.
━ CHAPTER VI.
RMEC Law Firm was recognized to be one of the best law firms in the state. It garnered clients with high ranks in your society and housed lawyers at the top of their game, including you who was appointed as an associate in the two years you’ve been lending your service to the company. Don Jungsoo asked Seokjin to endorse you to the Chairman after you passed the bar exam and Mr. Kim, the mentioned Chairman, in respect and with the aim to give back to the Don’s generosity for what the latter has done to him before, gladly took you in and played a big part in boosting the early stage of your career by assigning you to their uppermost clients.
You have been so grateful to Don Jungsoo, you expressed your thanks by sending flowers that he liked to his main office and boxes stocke bread that he liked to share with his men, and it was well appreciated by the Don as Jeongguk told you when the both of you saw each other that very day, saying that the Don was glad to see such a gesture from you.
Now, it has been almost two months since Don Jungsoo’s death; things were going back to normal but at the same time, going off to another direction. His family no longer looked disheartened or grieved so openly like they did on the first days of his passing; they were more focused on maintaining the JSG Group’s reputation and business to still be caught up with their own personal stress of losing a loved one. From your husband’s words when you asked if he was truly fine, the Don would have wanted them to move on quickly and get on with life rather than mourn never endingly—so that is what they were doing.
Three knocks on the door to your office made you look up from the papers you were reading and when you did, your gaze fell on Jeongguk who had a hand on the handle and a handsome smile on his features. You returned the smile and marked the last page you were scanning before standing up to meet him halfway.
“You didn’t say you were going to visit,” you said with a chuckle, Jeongguk placing a paper bag on the long table you had in your space before stretching his arms out.
“If I did, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He embraced you and kissed you swiftly on the lips.
“Still, a warning would have been nice.”
Another kiss and he leaned away after, you instinctively glanced at the glass windows to check if anyone was there snooping. You had learned it the hard way when a couple of associates saw Jeongguk burying his head on your neck in mid-make out session and biting along your clavicle when he visited you in the past; that act of his became a hot topic for a solid month—how the extremely attractive and rich fiancé then of ____ was close to eating her alive in her office.
However, that wasn’t the reason why you were cautious at the moment. Aside from the teasing that you received from your co-workers when they heard the rather spicy incident, there were also questions that arose that time that made you uncomfortable and a little worried for they were clearly said with malicious intent about Jeongguk’s family.
“Is it true that he’s the grandson of the mobster?” a female junior associate of the firm asked you, bumping elbows with you while all of you waited for the President to arrive at the conference room. It was the perfect moment to bring such a topic up as all of the lawyers were there to curiously listen.
“He’s probably a part of it too.” Another one, a male and a few years older, reckoned with a chuckle. “It’s a family business when it comes to those things.”
They looked at you to wait for an answer but you only pressed your mouth together, an action that meant you were clearly going to keep your lips sealed and not give them the satisfaction of biting back. You were still considered a rookie within the respected lawyers sitting with you at the long table and therefore didn’t want to cause any fuss on your part.
“His family runs JSG Group, a shareholder of this law firm,” Namjoon, the son of the Chairman who also worked as an attorney in the firm, piped in nonchalantly in behalf of you and you turned your eyes on him along with the others there, “and I don’t think it’s good to conspire and gossip against a member of a major shareholder, Mr. Oh.”
“We’re not conspiring, Namjoon. We’re just joking and bantering here. Aren’t we, ____? Mobsters aren’t a thing now anyways. This isn’t the 1950s. It’s not like the Mafia is still here.” The former man grinned at you as if you were good friends.
You didn’t answer again; you just kept on staring at him with a blank face until he grew disturbed and was looking at the woman earlier for a supporting comment. She didn’t say anything too though, and the two of them settled uncomfortably on their seats and feigned innocence as they brought another topic to the table.
You smiled at Namjoon in thanks and he gave you a small nod, resuming his skimming on the folder in front of him. He was untouchable because of his position and influence in the company; you were glad that he was your senior when you were only interning in the firm.
In regards to what your two co-workers mentioned about Jeongguk’s family business, you decided not to concern yourself with it further by searching for answers. They didn’t try poking you around with their ill-natured remarks after the incident at the conference room; they left you alone pretty much the following weeks, avoiding you like the plague but you couldn’t care less to wonder why their approach to you drastically shifted. Deep down though, you were assuming that it had something to do with their stunt reaching the Jeon Family, particularly Jeongguk who might have heard what happened through Namjoon as they were friends themselves.
You already had an idea that the reason why Don Jungsoo was so respected and acclaimed was because of something related to that kind of occupation or involvement with affairs that weren’t exactly clean business; it explained why their family a lot of enemies, why a lot feared them, why majority sought for the day that Don Jungsoo’s empire would fall. That’s why you kept a safe distance from it all as well—because you didn’t know how you would react when you do confront Jeongguk about it and he verifies your theories. Just like what’s been happening since the late Don’s death; you were aware that something was going on within the business due to Jeongguk’s frequent bad moods and his late night departures. He has been busy for the past weeks and has been stuck with his father or Seokjin most of the time too—you noticed and acknowledged all of that but didn’t say a word about it. You’ve been in this kind of phase with your dad, wherein you wondered and got worried all the time, so you had a clue or two on how to live with it with forced ease and ignorance.
Jeongguk followed your glances at the windows and smirked. “Paranoid that someone will catch us again?”
You went back to him and snorted. “You really know how to read my mind.” You proceeded on walking to the paper bag where there were small boxes of take-out from your favorite dining place. “What’s with the surprise visit though?”
“Can’t a husband surprise his wife at work?” He snatched another kiss, on your cheek instead, and helped you in unpacking.
You gave him a look of teasing doubt, causing him to chuckle. Jeongguk was always sweet and loving, but he wasn’t one to think of surprises or gestures of affection like this for you to believe him.
“What’s with that look?” he exclaimed with a laugh.
“Oh, you know what this look means, sweetheart.”
He rolled his eyes, surrendering then. “Fine. I know I’ve been absent, alright?” he explained. “I just wanna make it up to you.”
You smiled. “That’s very sweet of you, Guk, but you do know that I understand that things have been busy right? You don’t have to force yourself to do these things just because of guilt.”
“They’re not just because of guilt, silly. I’ve been missing you too. I came here because I wanted to see you.”
Your smile widened to a grin. “So, does that mean you’ll be joining me here? You’ll eat this lunch with me?” You were hopeful now but he frowned right away. He has been absent a lot. You’ve spent many nights being able to fall asleep on the bed and not have him beside you.
“Uh, not now,” he sighed as he gave you the direct answer, “later though, I promise. I’ll join you for dinner—I’ll even cook for dinner and then you can have me all night.”
“Is that for real this time? You won’t run away while I’m taking your pants off because someone called?” You reminded him of what happened the other day when you two were heading to business and then he abruptly left you to take care of matters concerning the company.
“Yes, I won’t bail on you tonight.” He moved behind you, hugging you from there and encircling his arms around your waist. “Pop’s heading somewhere too and Seokjin has the same plans as I do, which is to obviously woo the wife. So, I swear, you’ll have me as much as you want, angel.”
You laughed, swiftly kissing his exposed cheek as he laid his chin on your shoulder. “Good. Also, now that you mentioned it, I think Dad’s going to be with Pop. I invited him for dinner first since he kept on saying he was feeling lonely with me not always in the house anymore but then he said he had plans tonight.”
“Dad has been guilt tripping me about that too.” Jeongguk chuckled. “He said that since I took his daughter away, he’s starting to know more about the rooms of the villa. Has he told you that he’s turning one of the guest rooms to a home bar?”
“Wow. He decides to do that the second I move out, huh?”
“It’s a fun concept. Just wish he had done it too when I had more reasons to go there.”
You snorted and Jeongguk grinned.
As you finished placing the take-out on the table and opening all the containers, Jeongguk made it known again that he wouldn’t be able to stay long and that he had to go; he had a meeting with a potential investor, he said, though he added as well that your dinners plan with him later will still go according to plan like he promised. You nodded and he gave you a long kiss on the mouth and on the forehead as an apology for going out so soon before leaving you alone to eat the delicious lunch he bought for you, which didn’t seem as appetizing as it usually was without Jeongguk to share it with.
At 7:31 PM, you were driven home to the Jeon Residential Area by your chauffeur. Arriving at the huge gate that secured the premises, you took note of the seemingly hundreds of men hired to guard the whole sector while the vehicle you were riding passed through. They doubled the security four days ago for a reason you didn’t know—and you didn’t ask, just mentioned it casually one time as a way of saying that you found it still concerning despite your indifference; Jeongguk assured you that it was nothing to worry about and it was just—as he always says—a precaution.
You thanked your driver as he parked in front of your home with your husband and bid your good night, hopping out and walking towards the front door. The car only left when you had closed the door and were taking your shoes off, the smell of familiar home cooked food blessing your nostrils that you hurriedly went to the kitchen to see what it was. You were definitely surprised to see Jeongguk behind the stove with an apron on the moment you stepped in, and you remembered a part of his promise where he claimed he was going to cook dinner for the two of you tonight.
“You really are cooking,” you said with an amused huff.
He lifted his gaze up and placed his spoon down. “Correction, I cooked. Past tense. I’m already done. You’re right in time.”
“Is it any good?” you teased; you marched forward to give him a kiss of greeting on the lips which he happily obliged to.
“Of course, it is. You insult me, angel.”
“I was kidding.” You swayed your hip towards his to set him off balance.
He chuckled and pinched your side as a payback that you whined at before he nodded to the dining table and turned off the stove. “Let’s set up the table and eat.”
“Okay.”
Among the other things that Jeongguk hasn’t been doing because of the past busy month was cooking, and it was because of that reason too why having dinner with the food he just cooked made the night a special one compared to the others in a while. He truly cooked better than you and was more useful in the kitchen. You were sure of that because unlike you, he grew up with a mother and a grandmother who taught him all the basics and guided him with the recipes he knew of today. You, on the other hand, mostly relied on YouTube video tutorials and did a lot of trials and errors on your own. It wasn’t until you and Jeongguk were getting serious that you began learning from Yeonjin to be a better cook yourself.
“What do we have for dessert?” you asked after swallowing your last spoonful of rice. What he prepared was delicious and fulfilling that you’ve been going on about how good it was while you ate, your husband’s ears reddening at the endless compliments. Not one to draw attention to himself for a long time though when it came to you, he’d ask you more about your day and open random subjects to get out of the limelight.
Jeongguk glanced at you; he still wasn’t done eating. “Each other.”
You kicked him under the table and he almost choked, startled. “You’re ruining my mood for good food, sweetheart.”
“Am I not good food?”
“You’re not even food.”
“Okay, I’ll rephrase that—am I not good to eat?”
You snickered and continued staring at him, the grin on your face remaining. He really was the most ridiculous man you have ever met sometimes. It was one of the qualities you loved most about him too though.
“There’s ice cream on the fridge,” he added shortly with a laugh and you thanked him immediately, standing up to get yourselves some mugs so you can start scooping for the both of you. He was in the middle of drinking water when the doorbell rang multiple times, sort of like in a frenzy, and he placed the glass down to attend to it. “I’ll get that.”
You watched him leave his chair and you went back to your quest. It was probably Seokjin who was ringing the doorbell at this time of the night, you thought, as he was the only one present in the Jeon Residential Area like you and Jeongguk were. This kind of circumstance happened frequently anyways that you didn’t even bat an eye as the sound of the doorbell echoed inside the house, you just assumed that it was his brother who wanted to talk to him urgently about god knows what. Though you can’t lie and say that you didn’t find the frantic doorbell ringing didn’t put you off guard even a little bit.
You were glad actually to have someone as close as Seokjin within the compound. It enabled impromptu lunch double dates with his wife who you were getting close with since you got engaged to Jeongguk. She was a beautiful and nice lady, only three years older than you were; she worked as a preschool teacher in a nearby school, which you praised her for because you don’t think you’d have the same exact patience as her when it came to kids to tolerate a job like hers.
“That son of a bitch!”
The ice cream scooper you held fell on the sink where you were washing it because of Jeongguk’s sudden booming voice and shout of profanity. You froze for exactly two seconds, time moving slowly, your heartbeat quickening, and with the wariness that was beginning to erupt in your system because of what you heard, you headed to the hallway where the front door was to see what the commotion was all about.
There you saw Seokjin hissing at Jeongguk, his hands firmly gripping his shoulders, his words inaudible and incoherent from the distance between you and the two of them; as you made your presence known, Seokjin’s eyes flickered to you and his eyes softened for a quick second, a look of downcast falling on his features.
“Hey, Jin,” you started it off casually, your voice unconsciously quivering at the nerves, “I thought you were off to woo the wife?”
Seokjin stared at you in a manner that you didn’t like. It screamed pity and guilt and sadness and the next thing you know, he was turning away from you in frustration, his hands on his hips as he faced the other side of the front door that was still open. You snapped your gaze to Jeongguk then and he was approaching you, his eyes glassy and stern; in each step he took, your heart dropped lower and lower, the uncertainty and the possibilities of what might have happened supplying frightening thoughts in your mind. It all came to a stop when Jeongguk carefully held both of your cheeks, his thumb rubbing your skin gently as if you were this fragile being.
“Guk,” you gritted your teeth, the anxiety was bubbling up too fast for you to handle; you’ve just been enjoying dinner with him, what have possibly gone wrong for the mood to shift like this? “what is it? Is everything alright?”
“Angel, listen hard, okay? I don’t want to repeat it again,” he said in almost like a hushed mumble. He knitted his eyebrows together, his tears piling up further—were they in sadness or anger? You weren’t so sure yet. “Pop and Dad got shot. We don’t have a definite lead on who might have caused it and now they’re in the hospital. But ____, Dad… your father… he didn’t—they couldn’t do anything anymore.”
Your heart was sent crashing down, you even think that you heard them shatter to pieces. His words entered your ears effectively but they weren’t processing well. You felt sick all of the sudden and your head was starting to hurt at this overwhelming want to sob, your eyes welling up. “What?”
Jeongguk gulped, his palms moving from your cheeks to your hair in an attempt to caress you in comfort. “He didn’t make it, angel. When they arrived at the scene, there was no pulse.”
“What? That can’t be true.”
“They did everything they could.”
“No,” you held on to his wrists, pushing him back, but he was strong and so he stayed holding you, “no, no, no, Guk—what? He can’t be—that’s not possible—it can’t be. I was just talking to him earlier—I even sent him a text while I was being driven home—” you were starting to hyperventilate, your tears running down. Jeongguk pulled you to his chest; you were thrashing and you were sobbing uncontrollably, the reality in which your father was dead was sinking in and causing your temples to ache further— “no, he can’t be—whoever told you that—it’s bullshit!” You looked up at Jeongguk, the way you looked at him was pleading, in defeat; your gaze was telling him that you wanted him to tell you the opposite, you wanted him to assure you that Inhwan was still alive. “Tell Seokjin—whoever it was that said, that said that—that said that Dad is dead—is a liar!”
He only stared at you in return, his own tears falling on his face. Inhwan was a prominent figure in his life as well, and to say that he was devastated and angry by the news would be an understatement. The sight of hum crying with you made you sob harder, his expression of loss and regret; it made your knees weak and your surroundings ringing deafeningly that caused Jeongguk to carry you in his arms better—it was getting impossible to breathe then and your vision was turning crucially blurry.
“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispered, embracing you tight, letting you sob hard on his chest, “I’m so sorry, angel. I’m so sorry.”
Before you could even think of replying, to demand an answer from him why he was apologizing, you passed out in shock of the overwhelming events, and Jeongguk caught you quickly, shouting at Seokjin who rushed back inside to get you. Together they carried you to the living room sofa, Jeongguk ordering Seokjin to get a glass of water while Jeongguk called Yeonjin if she could come to your household and take care of you. His mother agreed, already aware of the unfortunate event, and after they said their assuring words to each other, Jeongguk hung up and waited until you woke up.
As you did, your eyes blinking and brimming with tears once more, he kissed your forehead and stroked your hair. “I’m going to take care of this,” he said in a promise. You were coming back to your senses and you were remembering what your father suffered from. “I’ll handle this. I’ll find out who did it and, and—I’ll kill the bastard myself.”
You were still groggy and disoriented but you understood his statement perfectly. You gazed at your husband and saw now a new guise being shown on his face; it was familiar and foreign all at the same time. You’ve seen him aggravated before, have seen him being so frustrated when things didn’t go his way—but this right here… this dangerous and angry bearing he had, it was a totally different expression that you haven’t had the chance to see in the past decade of knowing him. It scared you and it urged you to think about Jeongguk’s well-being more than the horrible news earlier for a split second. “Jeongguk…” you whimpered.
“I’ll kill him.” His jaw was clenched. “I’ll make him regret what he did, angel. I promise.”
“Guk…” you breathed out and tugged on his forearm. He looked at your grip and allowed you to pull him towards you, to wrap your arms around his neck to cry some more. He sighed against your neck, whispered his apologies over and over again though with no explanations why, and when you decided to finally respond to what he was telling you, Jeongguk stiffened in surprise, not expecting that you would request such a thing, especially at your state, but who was he to judge and deprive you of the opportunity? So, nodding and kissing your cheek, he agreed.
You just told him you wanted to kill the man who did the shooting incident that led to your father’s death yourself, and indeed that was going to be what Jeongguk would enable you to do.
━ CHAPTER VII.
The bastard’s name was Lim Sehyung, a man who was an associate for the Lee Family. He was known to be precise and attentive to what is being asked of him by the Caporegime he was under, and for his latest assignment, he was to shoot the Don of the Jeon Family as a threat from the Lee clan that meant Yeocheol, who was under their wing, meant serious business.
To do that successfully, he followed the pattern of Hanseo’s whereabouts, he bribed a dishonest Mafioso within the Jeon clan, and offered the person more money if he gave the information that Sehyung needed. In only two weeks after his Caporegime told him of what he needed to do, he executed and met the unsuspecting Don Hanseo while he was leaving a restaurant with his Caporegime, Inhwan. He shot the Boss three times, all in the parts that wouldn’t be fatal because his death was not what the Lee Family wanted yet, but he wasn’t as merciful to Inhwan who he showered with bullets and who fiercely fought back, shooting even the latter’s forehead for a safety measure.
Within the two weeks after he committed the crime as well, the same Mafioso he bribed would be forced to reveal Sehyung’s identity as the soldato of the Lee clan who did such a terrible act—the said mafioso was beaten until he spilled the beans when Seokjin received the tip that he was was the one who sent the details of Hanseo’s frequent whereabouts to Sehyung, and when he did confirm that he was the one who betrayed his Family and conspired with Sehyung, in Jeongguk’s rage, he personally sliced the mafioso’s tongue off, asking Yoongi, who was the reserve Caporegime of Inhwan’s faction and was the acting one upon his captain’s death, to send the piece of muscle to Sehyung as a warning that they were aware of his doings and that he would be next. As Yoongi agreed and got to business, Jeongguk shot the mafioso with one bullet to his brain.
That was one of the few times that Jeongguk’s anger got the best of him. Because of the Lee Family’s schemes, his father was in the hospital trying to recover from his bullet wounds and his wife, you, just lost her father; to top that all of, he was now hailed as Don Jeon, the head of their syndicate with Hanseo’s bad condition and his uncle who didn’t have the wits to lead willingly giving the title to him. Jeongguk accepted the responsibility right away as soon as Seokjin informed him of the shooting, knowing that it was him who was supposed to help his late grandfather’s empire rise up again, and even that was a hard task on its own, what he found harder was breaking the news to you that night when your dad was murdered.
Inhwan was cremated after you visited his body at the morgue. Jeongguk was there with you when you did, and he took note of how you only hugged and sobbed against the lifeless body of Inhwan; you didn’t pull the sheet away from his face to look at him for one last time. When Jeongguk asked you about it as gently as he could, you told him that you didn’t want your last memory of your father to be of an unrecognizable dead man’s face who was killed without mercy.
Your answer made Jeongguk angry again though he had more control of his temper by that time and knew he had to be logical now in the steps he would be taking in the future. Amidst all the noise and the tabloids spreading more dirt about the Jeon Family because of Hanseo’s misfortune however, Jeongguk never heard one question from you about it or at least an answer why your father was involved with the mess and had received the most lethal blow. He knew then that you knew of what he did and what his Family was capable of; he guessed that he should have known anyways because of what he said on the couch the night the two men were shot and what you said in response to his proposal.
Seokjin helped you with the legalities regarding the winery. He was the one who pulled the strings and transferred all the entities to your name. It wasn’t a hard task and a big deal since you were married to the Chairman—Jeongguk was now the acting Chairman as well—so, just like that, you were appointed as the new CEO to lead the wine company.
“Guk,” you murmured to him before sleeping, two days before you would meet the man who arranged the demise of Inhwan, “promise me you’ll always be safe.”
He exhaled harshly, pressing his mouth on the corner of your lips. “I promise, angel.” It was a white lie. In the business, he could never be safe, but he would try to do better from that on just for you.
“You’re the only one I have now.” You told him that in a showcase of vulnerability and your voice trembled as you did. “I can’t afford to lose you too.”
“You won’t.” He ran his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep for it was only then he’s able to leave you to the care of his mother. “I’ll always be here. I won’t go anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
You cracked a smile, though a tear also fell out of your eye in that instance and he held you in his arms again until you were truly asleep. He left you in his mother’s safe keeping, hugged and assured his mother too that everything was going to be fine, and left that night to go to his grandfather’s house where the main office for operations was still organized and discussed with his Consigliere, Seokjin.
There they devised a plan that would be soon the prominent factor of why a war between the Four Mafia Families of Seoul would commence, the infamous bloodshed making it to national television as men were found dead on the streets and institutions were burned to the ground—and alongside that plan was the objective of being the winning syndicate out of the four, the strongest Family to be glorified and recognized, a ploy that would also be successful in months to come thanks to the combined ruthlessness of Jeongguk for their enemies and Seokjin’s intelligence that contributed to their excellent strategies.
His prime concern for now was having Sehyung pay for what he did to Hanseo and to Inhwan. On early Monday morning, Jeongguk had the solution for that problem as Yoongi called him and informed that they had taken Sehyung into captivity. He was pleased and impressed that Inhwan’s reserve Caporegime was truly competent to do the job right; he told Yoongi that he would receive a great sum of money for his adequacy and relayed to him all the details on where to bring Sehyung and what to do with him for the meanwhile.
“You think ____ can do it?” Seokjin asked him a day before Sehyung’s murder. They were lounging in the office, at their grandfather’s den, having just finidhed talking to some men over the phone to carry out their plans.
“Do what?”
“Kill someone.”
“I don’t know.” Jeongguk shrugged and brought his glass of whiskey to his lips; despite his nonchalance, he was greatly worried about you. “____’s capable of anything as long as she puts her mind to it.”
“Yeah, but killing someone, Guk. That’s a whole different story and you know it.”
“I won’t force it on her. I’m just giving her what she wants—if she decides not to do it, I’ll gladly finish the job.”
“You sure she wants that? She wasn’t just acting out of her emotions that night?”
“I asked her a couple more times after that night and believe me, she’s… she really wants to do it.”
Seokjin nodded in understanding and Jeongguk, who knew where his brother was coming from, made sure you were still 100% on board with your idea on the day he was going to bring you to the warehouse where Sehyung was already beaten like a pulp, like the soldato he trusted and conspired with, already on the brink of death and the only thing keeping him from hell was the bullet you were going to shoot.
Jeongguk knew you weren’t one to be squeamish easily, but if you were to see someone being beaten and kicked over and over, pieces of their flesh flying everywhere, he wasn’t so sure if that was still going to be the case; that’s why he opted not to let you watch the bastard get beaten in front of your eyes.
“You sure you want to do this?” Jeongguk questioned as you both got out of the vehicle. The warehouse you were walking on was a favorite torture place by the Jeon Family; it was only natural that Sehyung was going to be executed here. “I’m giving you an out right now. I’ll send you home with Seokjin and I’ll do it.”
“No.” Your expression was serious but your tone was uncertain. “I need to do this.”
“You don’t need to do anything. If you’re doing this because you think Inhwan would have wanted it for you—”
“Why else would he have taught me how to use the gun?”
“For self-protection,” he replied coolly.
You glanced at him, your eyes wary and yet determined, and he held out his hand. You sighed, taking it, and he led you to the doors where a couple of his men were there along with Seokjin, Yoongi, and of course, Sehyung who was tied in a chair. Stepping past the entrance, he caught a clearer sight of the bastard’s face and saw that it was almost indescribable by how much they’ve assaulted it; from the way your hold tightens on his hand, Jeongguk knows you were seeing it too.
“You sure you want to do this?” It was Seokjin who asked you that again while he approached you two, a gun ready in his hand. “Have you ever held one of these things before, princess?” He teased you.
“What do you take me for, Jin?” You had the nerve to chuckle.
“I’m just making sure you know what you’re doing,” Seokjin said, handing the gun not to you at first, but to Jeongguk. “Can’t turn back time once it’s been done.”
“He’s right,” Jeongguk agreed. “One last time, angel. You can back out now and I’ll do it.”
“I want to do it.” You gritted your teeth together. “I thought you were going to let me do it?” You were staring at Jeongguk with a hard gaze.
He returned your stare; he was analyzing every feature on your face, trying to detect anything that would give off your reluctance. Seeing none, only your frustration, your glassy eyes, and your pressed lips, he picked your wrist up and placed the grip of the gun on your palm. “Safety lock is still on. Do as you like then.”
You huffed out a breath and strode forward to where Sehyung was situated. Jeongguk followed but stopped at a distance to give you your space, Seokjin following beside him and halting at the same time, copying his movements. Together they watched you stand a few centimeters away from the man who shot your father, your arms raising and the gun you’re holding being pointed at Sehyung immediately.
Sehyung sat there immobile. His eyes were opened but you could barely see that they were because of how swollen it appeared. His whole face was a bloody mess and so was his body, streaks of blood shown on his clothes and some still pouring from cuts on his skin. As he noticed your presence before him, he lifted his head up, smiled mockingly, scoffed—and then with every last bit of strength he had, he spat blood beneath your feet and chuckled.
It was in that second, when Jeongguk thought you were finally brave enough to pull the trigger as soon as possible, that your hands began shaking, the breath you let out quivering as if you were cold. It was the least of what he was expecting from you—he reckoned that you would have shot the man at exactly the instance a droplet of blood landed on your shoe in irritation of what Sehyung still had the guts to do—but it made you react the opposite, made you second guess your actions and hesitate.
“Whaing ait yor ating fore?” Sehyung’s speech was gibberish as he taunted you, a large number of his teeth no longer in his mouth and his consciousness was fading out slowly. “Kill me, you bitch!”
Jeongguk gazed at you from behind, waiting like the rest, his fist was formed beside him in anger of what Sehyung uttered but he controlled himself to give you your chance—to give you what you asked him to. Everyone present anticipated your next move, to see the wife of the Don commit the same grave sin they have to be a made man. However, when the sound of your scared whimper entered his ears instead of the fire of a gun, when he saw your composed stance loosening and your feet staggering back because of the intimidation of your father’s killer, Jeongguk dashed forward automatically, threw the promise he made to let you shoot the man far off his mind at that instance, and positioned himself behind you, one of his hands on your shoulder and one on both of your hands that were holding the weapon.
You had all the nerve and the determination in the world for a lot of things; you studied law, you handled pezzonovantes as clients, you managed to be with Jeongguk even on the days you knew there was serious danger lurking around him and his family—but out of all the things you’ve been brave for, you certainly couldn’t do it for this one, and Jeongguk didn’t want you to go forth with something you obviously weren’t ready to do. He realized then at your reluctance and frightened state that he didn’t want you to get blood on your hands, to be responsible for another person’s death. You were one of the few glorious things in his life, the guardian on his shoulder that reminded him of the goodness still in this world, and he wasn’t going to change that just because of what you thought you wanted to do.
Ever so gently, he took the gun from your grasp and moved his palm from your shoulder to your eyes, covering them, using it to turn you around until he pulled you to his chest. There you sobbed, latched onto his shirt, and whispered apologies for not being able to get on with but Jeongguk didn’t mind them, he was focusing on holding the gun properly with one hand to assure you that you didn’t do anything wrong, the best he could do was just shush you in comfort.
“It’s okay, angel,” he mumbled, his hand on your eyes moving to the back of your hair, caressing it while he continued to shush you like a baby. “I’ll do it for you.” He pressed a kiss on your temple.
As the last syllable flowed from his mouth, he didn’t prolong it any longer and shot Sehyung twice—one on the head for what he did to Inhwan and the other on the mouth for the foul name he called you. You flinched in his arms at the booming sound, much more because of the sudden drop of Sehyung’s chair backward at the force of the bullet lunging in his brain, and Jeongguk calmly handed the gun to Yoongi who was waiting by the side to get it from him.
At the same time Jeongguk shot Sehyung, a soldato of the Jeon Family shot the underboss of the Lee clan while he was exiting the golf he frequented in at another location, and while that was taking place, another also gave Jang Yeocheol the taste of his own medicine under Seokjin’s orders for planning such treachery to the Jeon Family. Those murders would erupt the war between the Four Families of Seoul and would force Jeongguk to urge his Family (and all his loved ones) to go to the mattresses with him to protect themselves from the awaiting bloodshed from the rivalring organizations.
“It’s done,” he said.
You exhaled, nodding, and instead of being repulsed for witnessing Jeongguk murder a man in front of you like he abruptly feared as the bullet went through Sehyung’s forehead, the thought occurring to him that he has shown his worst side to the woman he loved, you embraced him tight and took heavy breaths to calm yourself. It was then that Jeongguk vowed to himself that he will never let you see him kill or harm another man ever again.
He was positive now that you were absolutely certain of what he could do, what his Family was capable of, and how much power they truly possessed. For the months to come, he would have to be more transparent to you than he has ever been before to keep you safe and to assure you that he too was going to be safe. The War of the Four Families was going to be the reason why you would be the first lady to join the Mafia in the Jeon Family, joining hands with Jeongguk and Seokjin as the three of you bring your clan back to the summit.
“Thank you,” you murmured and he looked down at you, strange to hear your gratitude considering what he did to obtain it. He was still expecting you to run away or to at least stare at him with disgust. The only thing you did was keep him closer to you, not wanting to let go.
He smiled and kissed your hair. Jeongguk was going to look after you until his very last moment on earth, both for his sake and for the sake of your late father.
“Anything for you, my angel.”
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THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)
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tagging: @mercurygguk @fan-ati--c @moonchild1 @unicornbabylover @shameless-army @1-800-seo @fancystrawberrynerd @dreamamubarak (striked means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag them !)
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3K notes · View notes
bangtangalicious · 4 months ago
Text
nexus (m) | part 1
pairing: ot7 x reader smut ft: namjoon x reader
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genre: smut, thriller, slow burn, casino!au elite!au gang/organized crime!au, childhoodfriends-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, strangers-to-lovers
premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you practically grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and now engaged to the youngest. but when you’re suddenly being framed for a murder you did not commit, you start to question truth about your life. the truth about the people you swore your loyalty to, and the extent they’ll go to keep it
summary: the youngest Kim heir returns home to get engaged. what was supposed to be a trip of celebrations quickly turns south when he finds his older brother dead
wc: 6k
warnings: explicit smut; reader discretion is advised; rough sex, manipulation, coersion, virginity loss, angst, hurt, comfort, cum facial, brief oral, dumbification, breast play, praise, unprotected sex, lack of after care, coping mechanisms, alcohol, subtle references to gambling, toxic behaviors (namjoon is an ~asshole~), heavy sexual tension, nudity, mention of character death, mentions of chronic disease, family conflict, descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks*please dont read if this triggers you!*, references to drugs, hospitals, police/cops, cursing, seokjin is fucking sexy as fuck holy fuck
taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @everybias @lvrseok
a/n: HI BABES. omg this one BURNS baby. like fuck, if you aren't thirsting for the Kim boys after this one,,,,,just buckle up ;) hope you enjoy <3
series navi | join taglist | masterlist
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⟶ many years ago ⟵
Tilting his neck, Namjoon let out a heaving sigh. The whiskey glass rolling in his palm as he leaned against the railing. The balcony overlooked the gardens where he had grown up. Taking a sip, he let the bitter liquid roll in his mouth. Remembering days far more peaceful, more innocent. When he would sit upon the stone benches, reading a hefty novel—something his mother would have given him, while you and Jin would play cards in the grass, and Taehyung would watch excitedly.
It always irritated Namjoon. The way baby Taehyung would trail you like a lost lamb, eyes wide and cheeks full, latching onto you whenever he could. Always such a fucking brat, Namjoon thought to himself, he would come running up to him and Jin—ultimately succeeding in dragging Jin into his shenanigans because Jin always had a soft spot for the young boy. Hyung, is Y/n a princess? It made Namjoon want to gouge his eyes out on the spot but Jin had simply smiled, crouching down to ruffle his hair. Yes she is. She’s our princess. And hence, the nickname stuck.
It was pretty accurate. You were royally spoilt as far as he was concerned. For as much resentment as Namjoon had for his older brother, he equally held it for you. You weren’t even family, and yet his own mother doted on you far more than he.
And now she was gone. His whole life all he wanted was to get the respect, the status he deserved. He was smarter than his brothers, more ambitious, more worthy. All he wanted was for her to say it. To see that he deserved to be head of the family. But it was too late.
He could hear you walk in. He knew you were too fucking scared of him to actually announce your presence. He scowled, setting his glass down.
“You’re not allowed in here”
“Don’t be like that” He heard your footsteps nearing, “Not today,” He flinched as your hand landed on his arm, “Let me be there for you today”
“Get out. I don’t need you.” He paused, before bitterly adding “None of us do”
You sighed, expecting his harsh words, “Namjoon, what if I need you?”
Namjoon faced you finally, eyebrows raised at your statement. His heart clenched, seeing the tears spilt down your cheeks. He stiffened, unsure how to proceed. He was certain he didn’t care about you and yet, he was a sucker for your tears. You knew he was.
“Stop” He warned, stepping towards you, “Stop fucking crying” His fists clenched tightly, nails digging into his palms. Blood boiling inside as your tears continued to flow freely. You buried your face into his chest, soft sobs leaving your lips as you broke down.
Namjoon looked at you, arms away from your body as though he was unsure if he should even touch you. If you would break into pieces if he did. You gripped onto his shirt for dear life, soaking through the fabric. Sighing, Namjoon let his hands rest awkwardly on your shoulders.
Truth be told, there were tears in his own eyes. But he didn’t want you to see. Didn’t want anyone to see because, he didn’t cry. He wasn’t weak. Things didn’t matter to him, especially not the death of that God-forsaken mother of his.
Lies. Today, even Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to believe it. His mother was gone. Dead. She had fought a long battle with cancer, but even despite having access to the best doctors and facilities, her fate had been sealed. The death of his mother made a lot of people very happy, and some people sad, but Namjoon was fucking angry. Because his mother dying meant he could no longer prove himself to her. It meant she couldn’t change her will. It mean Jin was getting everything that he deserved.
He wanted Jin to hurt. He wanted to destroy him, he always had but especially now. As you cried in his arms, a small grin tugged at his face. He knew that his brother considered you his world. That his brother would do just about anything for you.
So just imagine what he would do, if Namjoon got to have you like Jin never could. No matter what power Jin held in the family now, Jin could never say that he took your virginity, not if Namjoon did it first. Hurting you—breaking you—would break him.
And fuck if that thought alone didn’t make him hard.
“Look at me” Namjoon forced himself to sound softer. To play at your heart strings. You blinked, looking adorable pressed up against him. He wiped your tears with his thumb, smiling at you. He knew you wanted this. He had heard time and time again the way you’d play with yourself, chanting his name when you thought no one was listening.
He knew he could get you to do anything.
And he did, sliding his lips onto yours, he didn’t offer you a space to question him as he lifted you by the waist, setting you onto the edge of the balcony.
You melted into his touch, he could tell you didn’t have much experience but he didn’t mind. It excited him. The thought that he could tarnish you—ruin you.
He wasn’t about to ask you what you wanted. Taking on the momentum of your confusion he lifted you up, carrying you easily back towards his bed where he laid you down sweetly.
He didn’t want to be so careful, he would have preferred to slam you against a wall, legs around his waist and pump his thick cum deep inside you while choking your neck until you couldn’t breath, but—that wouldn’t work on you. You were soft. You were in love with him.
Whatever the fuck that meant.
Namjoon was smart enough to know what you wanted to hear. You were vulnerable, you were sad, and frankly so was he. So today he would pretend, for your sake—for his own sake.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” Your face lit up, allowing Namjoon to climb over you, carefully unzipping the back of your dress while he nuzzled against your neck. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?”
“W-what, Namjoon I—”
“Ssh” Pulling off your dress, Namjoon took a moment to admire your body. He always thought it was funny that his family’s money was used on your things—your clothes, your underwear.
Technically, in a way, he owned you.
He knelt down to meet your lips again. You were evidently getting the hang of it, finally gathering the courage to move your hands and cup his face. He deepened the kiss, tasting the sweet gloss on your lips before pushing his tongue inside to tangle with your own.
Breaking the kiss, you were panting heavily, “Wait, just” You held your hand against his chest, stopping him from diving back in for more. “Slow down…it’s my f-first time”
I know. “Oh,” Namjoon feigned ignorance, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize” He got up, pretending as though he took your words as a rejection because he knew you would—
“Don’t go” Your voice was pleading, eyes wide and quivering. You lay in nothing but your bra and panties, waiting patiently for him to fuck you into oblivion. Good fucking girl.
“Are you sure baby?” Namjoon traced the inside of your thighs, tickling the plush skin and you twitched. “You want this. You do, don’t you?” He kissed the top of your knee, “You love me, right?”
“O-of course” You gasped as Namjoon’s lips trailed up your leg. Each kiss resounding, he took his time, savoring your whimpers. He wanted you to burn for him, to surrender to him completely.
He found your lips once again, hands hovering over your bra when he looked at you, “May I?” Internally, he groaned. He would have torn the damn thing off with his teeth by now.
You nodded, unsure exactly what was happening but you would find out real soon, as Namjoon unclipped your bra, licking his lips as he tossed it aside.
“Can you?” You mumbled, reaching for his collar, “I-I mean, y-your shirt is still on”
Namjoon smirked, straightening himself to unbutton his own shirt. He enjoyed the way your eyes widened, seeing his body up close.
“Undo my belt” He instructed. You nodded rapidly, reaching for the designer piece, fumbling it in your shaking hands. Namjoon’s own, larger ones covering them to guide you until you clicked the belt off, unzipping his trousers so he could kick them off along with his boxers.
“Oh wow” Your voice cracked, watching as his long, thick length popped out. He stroked it a few times, warming himself up. You widened your thighs, your whole body shaking in anticipation.
“You love me,” Namjoon reminded you as he yanked down your panties, “So you’d do anything for me right?”
“Yeah”
“This is gonna hurt” He confessed, fitting his tip at your entrance. “But you’re gonna let me do this, because it’ll make the pain go away, and I need that” His palm brushed against your cheek, “I need you. Like you said.” Steadying your hips, he pushed into you slowly. You hissed at the intrusion, an odd, painful feeling boiling in your core.
“Namjoon—” You reached for him as he growled, you were so fucking tight, he could barely get in. Pushing your thighs out more, you winced in pain but he didn’t care. “Namjoon, ow, wait—”
Shut the fuck up, Namjoon wanted to scream. Instead he took a deep breath, halting his advances and looking at you.
“I love you, Y/n” The lie left his mouth easily, no guilt coming with it. He could see you blush, you tried to suppress the smile on your face but you simply couldn’t. It was everything you ever wanted. What a fucking idiot. “I always have…I’ve just been too scared to admit it…I thought you would reject me”
You laughed weakly, reaching for his arm, “I would never reject you Namjoon,”
“Really?” His eyes perked, taking the opportunity to push in a little deeper. “I wanna fuck you hard, will you let me do that?”
He could see the conflict in your eyes. The part of you wanting to give him everything fighting against the pain in your body screaming for you to stop.
“Yeah”
“Once I start, I might not be able to stop, so you’re sure?”
“I am” You nodded, “Do whatever you need, I’m yours”
Namjoon’s eyes darkened suddenly. A greedy grin growing on his face. Hooking your thighs in his elbows, he tilted you up at an angle before dragging his length out.
And then he slammed into you.
And you screamed.
Which only made him go faster. Blood trickled onto the silk sheets but Namjoon was effectively gone. Your cunt was so fucking sweet, so tight around him, so warm, and fuck he couldn’t stop.
“You’re doing so good” He grumbled, burying his face into your chest as he pounded on, smacking his hips against yours. “Feel so fucking good babygirl”
Your pussy clenched at the praise, and Namjoon could feel it, “Yeah? You’re such a good girl for me aren’t you?” He nipped at your jaw, dropping your legs so he could squeeze at your breasts. Thumb circling around your taught nipples, light circles driving you into a frenzy.
You moaned loudly, making Namjoon pinch at you, his wet lips now sucking into your neck. Cupping underneath your breasts he pushed them together, meeting your gaze briefly before slobbering his mouth and tongue all over them.
“Oh f-fuckk”
Your face was dumbed out in pleasure, lips parted wide as Namjoon fit his mouth over your left breast, hand molesting the other. He sucked down harshly, tongue swirling and flicking all over your skin, the wetness growing between your legs making it easier for him to fuck into you. The soft squelching noise dizzying, making you embarrassed.
“Fuck, these tits” He groaned, switching sides, “Such pretty fucking tits”
“I feel g-good” You arched your back, “Feel so good Joon—”
Namjoon parted from your breasts, a line of saliva dripping from his swollen lips. He grinned, wiping it away before kissing you roughly. Fisting your hair and he fucked deeper and deeper into you.
Your legs wrapped around his waist, finally adjusting to his size and pace. It was feverish, animalistic. He sucked at your neck, your jaw, back on your lips, all over your face, he simply couldn’t get enough.
“Such a good girl for me, fuck, babygirl I need to pull out soon” You whined at the prospect of feeling empty, “Can’t have you getting pregnant” He muttered. No way in hell. “M’gonna cum in your mouth okay, you’re gonna open real wide for me, aren’t you?”
You nodded, too fucked out to comprehend anything. Namjoon pulled out, stroking his slick length as he yanked your head up—pushing your lips open with his fingers before shoving his cock deep down your throat.
Gagging, tears fell from your eyes as Namjoon pulled and pushed your mouth over his cock, fucking down your throat until he burst inside—his cum making you choke as he pulled out, drops landing on your lips.
“Swallow it”
You did. Namjoon sighed in relief, wiping the remnants from your lips with the swipe of his thumb, tugging at them playfully before pushing his thumb in your mouth. Like a braindead bitch, you sucked on it.
If only his mother could see you now.
Right away, he began to dress himself again, while you lay back in awe of the events that had just transpired.
“Joon—” You called as you noticed him getting ready to leave. He rolled his eyes, turning to you impatiently. “Wait, a-are you leaving? Aren’t we supposed to like,” Your voice went quiet, “C-cuddle,”
He scoffed meanly, making you tense. “You’re so fucking dumb, Y/n.”
You sat up, grabbing your dress and attempting to cover yourself, “What?”
Namjoon gave you an uninterested look, “Do you really think I meant any of that?”
Your heart dropped. A nasty feeling piled in your throat. You felt like you could puke—you were going to puke.
“Namjoon, no—y-you’re lying, you’re just scared, a-and hurt”
He stood up, making his way to the door, “Maybe you’re right” He smirked one final time, scanning how pathetic you looked in that moment, and then he was gone.
You gasped for air, the weight of his actions—his words finally settling in. Heaving, you rushed to his bathroom, falling to your knees in front of the toilet as you gagged, wanting to rid yourself of him in any way you could. Your arms curled over your body, attempting to gain some comfort. Loud sobs leaving your lips.
Your mind instantly went to Jin. How were you supposed to face him? You could never tell him what happened, couldn’t bear to think how he might react.
If Jin got upset with you—you weren’t sure you could handle it. And if he didn’t, he would fight with Namjoon. You couldn’t be the reason this family falls apart. For the first time in your life, you had to keep a secret from Jin.
It was moments like this where you’d miss Taehyung. The little boy who thought you were a princess. Whoever he might be now, wherever. He had always brought you comfort. Pure, innocent comfort. How could he have missed his mother’s funeral? Anger surged within you.
Getting dressed carefully, you left Namjoon’s room—wanting to go sink into your own bathtub and wash the memories away. You had no idea where he went, you no longer cared. Arriving in your bedroom, you grabbed your cellphone from your dresser.
“What is it princess?” Jin’s voice was silk—comfort, and peace. You could hear the hint of concern, it was late after all.
You covered your mouth, a sudden surge of emotion prompting you to break down in tears once again. You couldn’t let him hear you cry, you couldn’t tell him what was wrong—you shouldn’t have called and yet, there was nothing that made more sense.
“What happened? Fuck, what’s wrong?” You hung up, bawling out into heavy tears. Slamming your fist against the bathroom floor as you screamed, begging for the pain to stop.
You had no idea how much time must have passed, hiding in your room, rocking yourself back and forth. Jin knocked softly at your door.
“Princess,”
No. You groaned, knowing if you looked Jin in the eye—you would fall apart all over again. You could hear him sigh. Guilt panging in your chest for making him worry.
“Please Y/n” He whispered, “Talk to me”
You didn’t respond.
Eventually, he left.
-
Jimin preferred the private practice life, largely due to the fact that he couldn’t stand how creepy hospitals were to him. He stared at his clipboard, flipping aimlessly through his patient notes. Well—one patient in particular.
“Dr. Park, please follow me”
A consultant, is what he would call himself—he didn’t work here. Perks of working with wealthy criminals was that he could get away just about anything, most of the time. Get away with doing anything he so pleased. Pursuing, hobbies for his own amusement.
A nurse greeted him politely. Following him, they walked through the dreary hospital walls.
“Any changes in behavior?” Jimin asked. The nurse shook his head, unlocking the door, allowing Jimin to step inside, leaving him with his patient.
The patient sat on the bed, facing the other wall. A pair of die in his palm, which he rolled around rapidly—anxiously. The room was bare, except for a small window towards the ceiling, allowing for bright sunlight to filter in.
“How are you feeling?” Jimin asked warmly, taking a seat next to his patient, flipping through his clipboard before scribbling down a few notes. The patient didn’t respond. “I’ve got your prescription refilled for you”
“There’s nothing wrong with me” The patient stated quietly. Jimin sighed, setting his clipboard on the bedside table.
“Mr. Kim, we’ve been over this. There is something wrong with you. That’s why I need you to keep taking these—you do want to see her again someday, don’t you?”
The patient solemnly watched as Jimin handed him a bottle of pills. Jimin had given him careful instructions to hide this medication from his nurses. To take it only at night, in the dark, when the cameras wouldn’t be able to catch him.
The patient gulped before nervously placing a pill in his mouth, gulping it down with a glass of water. Jimin grinned, patting his back.
“Good, I’ll see you next week”
Stepping out of the room, Jimin shuffled through his doctor’s coat, grabbing his cell phone, dialing a recent number.
Yeah?
“I’ve given him the pills. He won’t be getting out of here anytime soon”
⟶ 2 days before the murder ⟵
Jin was hardly judgmental when it came to you. You would trust him with pretty much everything, your sexual escapades to your petty fights at school, your deepest thoughts and your darkest desires.
He’d treat every thought as though it was brilliant, considering even the dumbest confessions worthy of discussion. He would always take you seriously, even when he was wrapped up in his own obligations, his own life—the demands of being the new head of the family business, ever since his mother died.
You were confident about him, you faith never wavering. But then again, he had never actually seen you get railed with his own eyes. Until now.
The elevator ride was stuffy. Not a word left his mouth, his hoodie feeling warm around your freshly fucked body. You searched his eyes, trying to figure out what to expect—was he upset? Amused? Did he not care?
Making Jin angry was something you never, ever wanted to do. He was generally easy-going, a striking contrast to Namjoon who seemed to have a gold bar stuffed up his ass half the time. But you had seen him get angry once before. Just once. And it had been terrifying.
Jin brought you upstairs, his t-shirt drenched in sweat. Closing the door behind him, he tugged off his shirt—nothing you hadn’t seen before, except that this time you looked. You looked at the way his muscles flexed against his slim figure, his broad shoulders, licking your lips.
“Listen—”
“Namjoon wants you home by tomorrow morning” Unscrewing his bottle, he tilted it over his head, allowing the water to splash over his face, dripping down his jaw onto his chest. Setting the bottle aside. He glanced at his watch, vintage Rolex that looked stunning against his bare arm.
Gulping you nodded. Jin noticed the anxious look on your face, the way you folded your arms over your chest, fingers tapping against your elbow nervously. He grabbed a hand towel, rubbing against his neck. The silence grew heavy between you.
“Gonna shower” He announced, tossing the towel aside. “Join me?”
Your eyes widened, giving him a curious look. Jin and you had never crossed any lines. You made sure of it.
And yet, as you watched Jin disappear into the luxurious bathroom, the sound of the shower hitting your ears, you slowly began to undress. Piles of clothing dropping to the floor, leaving a trail behind you until you were leaning against the doorframe.
Inside, Jin was under the pour, steam covering his lower half and water drenching over his back. His hands pressed forward against the glass, eyes shut as he let the hot water hit him.
Fuck.
Nervously covering yourself however much you could, you slid the shower door open. Jin turned upon hearing you enter, moving to give you plenty of room—to keep himself away from your body.
He looked at you. You couldn’t quite decipher what his eyes were saying, but something was off. Different.
“Get in the water, it’ll help,” He backed away, keeping his eyes on yours as to not move them any lower. You had to respect his self-control. “With the stress”
You did. Closing your eyes you let the water cover you like a warm blanket, pounding against your muscles, relieving the ache from the rough sex you had just endured at the hands of Jungkook. Your lips parted, neck tilting to the side as you let your hands roam your body.
You could feel Jin’s eyes on you. Like a laser, burning through your skin. You knew he must have given in. That he was watching the way your hands went over your chest, around your neck, into your hair. You wondered what his hands would feel like instead. What his touch would feel like.
You tilted your neck, remembering how amazing it had felt when his fingers were tracing your skin the night before, touch searing against you to the point you wanted to simply unravel into dust before him.
This was who he was. He was touchy, flirtatious, an infamous playboy who had fucked half of your social circle and you had never wanted him. He had never wanted you—or at least that was what you believed.
He’d never use his tricks on you, you were his Ace. His partner in crime, and yet you found yourself weak in the knees, delirious, wanting to give yourself to him wordlessly. Wanting to let him do whatever he would with you, reduce you to a mere tally in his list.
Jin backed into a corner, leaning back as he waited patiently. His body growing cold. He stared at the ceiling, one hand tucked behind his head. The other reaching behind you to grab the shampoo bottle.
“This isn’t your brand” He complained, a light chuckle following, “You still wanna use it?” Your eyes opened to see what he was holding. Smiling, you nodded. He extended it towards you.
“Do you,” You began, unsure how to ask the question which weighed heavy on the tip of your tongue. “I mean,”
“Turn around” He read your mind. He always could.
Jin’s long fingers sank into your hair, caressing it gently, the pads reaching your scalp, soft and yet the movement giving you an overwhelming sense of ease. You arched into his touch, unconsciously moving closer until your back was barely away from his chest.
You could feel the heat of his presence on you, making your joints weak. Your heart throb. Your throat choke with pressure.
You couldn’t afford these feelings. Not now, after so many years of being strictly platonic, you had no idea what was happening to you, or why. You were marrying his brother. Even beyond that, it was never Jin you wanted. That mere realization was in part what had gotten you into the mess of the engagement you were in now.
Chairwoman Kim, Jin’s mother, had given you a choice…of sorts. Asking you which of her sons you wanted to marry. She had always been fond of you, always wanted you to feel empowered. Her only wish was that you truly be her daughter somehow.
But you should have known there was some sick twist to it all. The Kim’s had a crooked sense of humor, which often involved playing with people’s lives, playing their own words against them.
She gave you a choice. You chose Namjoon.
A crush some would say. For you he was a dream. Someone so unattainable you couldn’t help but yearn for him. Especially in rare moments you had to yourself, hand underneath the satin of your pajama shorts as you’d mumble his name into your pillow. Grinding your hips frantically, wanting nothing more than his second glance. A second of his thoughts. A moment spared.
When Chairwoman told Namjoon he hadn’t reacted much at all, he had simply asked you one question: Don’t you love hyung?
You wanted Namjoon, bad, hence you said no—you didn’t love Seokjin, not like that anyway. Namjoon rejected you then and there. It was as though in that moment, you were now effectively useless to him. He had turned to his mother, a woman who would do anything for her little boys and said—give her to Taehyung
And here you were, wanting so badly to slap your younger self so that she would change her answer. You had been a fool, chasing after someone like Namjoon. What he had done to you after had been a simple reminder of that very fact.
But none of it seemed to matter anymore. Because nothing you felt towards Namjoon could come close to the way your whole body seemed to throb with pain when Jin would be out on the dance floor, groping strangers, bringing them back to the hotel room, two—three at a time. In this trip alone you had heard his sultry whispers, his hungry moans, and there simply wasn’t a pain quite like that.
You convinced yourself you were projecting. That you were so afraid of getting engaged to a stranger you were desperate to stay attached to someone you knew.
It angered you though, that Jin appeared to be sweet to you. To treat you, as he always had—but now it all felt hopelessly inappropriate. When he’d call you princess you would fall apart just a bit more. When he’d wink your way, when he’d cup your face and look into your eyes. Seemingly innocent but—no, not at all.
Jin’s fingers left your hair, allowing you to wash out the suds. You had never felt so breathless, wondering if he was watching the way the slippery soap trailed down your back.
You wanted to know—you just wanted to feel him once. Just a touch. His hand on your neck, his lips on your breast, maybe his fingers stuffed deep in your cunt while he’d whisper your name so sweet, lips pressed up right behind your ear, tell you everything you so desperately wanted to hear but—
Nothing. The rest of the shower went by wordlessly. Steam clouding the hot stares shares between you two. His eyes undressed you even while you were already naked. They drank you in like a sweet, addictive nectar. You were exposed entirely, your heart on your sleeve, he had you at his fingertips and chose not to lay a single hand.
You wanted to scream. To ask him what fucking game he was playing with your mind, making you all confused mere hours before your engagement, but you couldn’t.
The moment was too tender. Too delicate for you to shatter.
Shutting the water off, Jin wrapped a towel around you, tucking it into the dip of your breasts before wrapping another around his own waist. His hand lingered a beat too long. You watched as he gulped, stepping away from you.
“Get dressed” Jin sighed, running his hand through his hair—dewy drops landing against his chest, “The helicopter will be here soon.”
It was debatable if you had it in you to go another whole day without jumping his bones. Confessing the things your soul was screaming as truth. The right thing to do would have been to call it off. To go back home to Namjoon and help prepare for your big day.
“Where are we going?”
Jin smiled, “To do what you and I love most” Tugging out a bedside drawer, he wrapped his fingers around a deck of cards. Emptying it into his palm, he shuffled them masterfully, the zipping, crisp sound of cards clashing like music to your ears.
⟶ Present Day ⟵
Maybe you would have been able to appreciate the gorgeous crystal chandelier dancing across the tall ceilings as though you were deep within a dream. Or the long glass walls that looked out upon the tinge of a purple sun set, growing darker, brighter, more elusive by the passing second. All of it was perfect—beautiful, typical of an event hosted by the Kim family.
Maybe you would have been enjoying yourself if it weren’t for the dark pit in your stomach. The screams in your head telling you:
Run.
Any second, he would arrive. Any second you would have to face him. After all these years.
From the corner of your eye, you watched as old family friends, business partners, members of the elite group of fucking fake socialites you associated with mingled and conversed amongst themselves. You hardly had the appetite to make your rounds. To plaster on that fake smile everyone loved.
Walking past a waiter, you snatched a glass of champagne from their tray, glancing behind your shoulder cautiously before slipping a small white pill between your lips. Washing it down with the crisp liquid.
In your chest, a weighted emptiness stirred. The missing presence of someone you needed by your side now more than ever before. Jin was nowhere to be seen—many missed calls confirmed the inclination that you might not be seeing much of him at all tonight.
You checked your phone, only for disappointment to clench at your throat. The previous day still seemed like a blur, too much had happened, you tried hard not to think about it. Even so, a part of you worried.
“You’re late” The familiar, stern voice of Kim Namjoon sent goosebumps down your neck. A voice you were quite used to hearing, critical of every move you made. Every breath you fucking took. Dressed nicely in a white suit, gold watch and chains making a statement against the getup. The small tattoo behind his ear—the family emblem. One all three of the brothers had.
Huffing, you folded your arms over your chest. Namjoon watched you, as if he was uncertain—like you were a grenade that might just explode if he made one wrong move. He raised his own glass—bourbon neat—to click against yours.
“You look good” He nodded in approval, something rare for him. His words were genuine, you could tell. But you could care less what Kim Namjoon thought of your engagement dress. You could care less about your engagement in the first place and yet here you were. “He’s a very lucky man”
You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink before setting it aside. You had half a mind to throw the glass straight at him, if you didn’t know how easily he could snap your neck.
“Lucky my ass”
There was nothing lucky about your situation. No luck, just a debt owed to a family who took you in when you had nowhere to go. How were you supposed to refuse, when your mother disappeared so many years ago into thin air—no body to be found, left with a multibillion-dollar corporation when you could barely reach the top shelf of your closet.
You were in no position to deny when the Kim’s, the most notoriously filthy rich casino conglomerate in the world offered to take you in as their own. No position to deny the way they cared for you, the way they doted on you and treated you as like a princess. No position to deny them—more specifically, Namjoon. When he decided you were to get engaged with his younger brother, that was that. His word was law.
It’s what they did. Exploited. Twisted and hustled you until your life was a mere chip on the table, something they could gamble away with the flick of their wrists.
“Have you heard from Jin?” You asked, not wanting to entertain Namjoon’s compliments any longer. “I’ve left him a few missed calls but—”
Namjoon raised his hand, stopped your words. His eyes shifted behind you, where he narrowed in on an old client of his. Leaving you, he went to go charm the cash right out of the poor soul’s pocket. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you made you way to the bar.
Your manicured nails tapped nervously against the glass counter. A paced rhythm, until you felt a hand slide over your own. Longer, pretty fingers—clad with thick rings, fitting perfectly over your hand. A searing warmth from the touch, traveling up your arm and straight into your chest.
Breath hitching, you watched as the fingers intertwined with yours, slipping something cool, smooth into the cup of your palm.
“This should help with the nerves”
You recognized the feeling right away—dice. Exhaling shakily, your muscles eased, the familiar roll of the die giving you an overwhelming sense of comfort. Of anticipation. A feeling you loved—the moment your heart would jump before you let them go, putting everything on the line. All for chance.
And what a chance it was, as you looked up—a man stood, dressed in a dark suit, earrings dangling, sweet, bright lips that looked so fucking soft. And his eyes—oh god his eyes—you swore you could see stars in them. Stealing back the dice from your hand, he pressed it between his fingers, bringing it up in front of your face, leaning down—breath fanning over you as he grinned. Tossing it up with a swift move of his hand, he caught it again, snatching it back into his own pocket.
“Taehyung—” Was it something of a dream, or a nightmare—you weren’t entirely sure. You could hardly recognize the boy you remember would chase you around the Kim gardens, latching onto your arm as though you were his lifeline.
His lips quirked, a playful, seductive smile on his face as he backed away.
“Dance with me”—was all he said before his hand slid to the small of your back, guiding you towards the center of the venue. The twinkling lights illuminating his perfect features while he pulled you into his chest.
You looked up at him—he had grown. So much and in so many ways. His eyes were dark, searching your face as though he were memorizing every detail. As though you were a diamond—and he had finally found you, his prize, his beauty—all his.
Where were you supposed to begin? You had so many questions, so much you wanted to say, so much fear and yet—you were rendered speechless. All you could do was let him move you. Let him sway your body with grace, pressing his forehead against yours. It was suffocatingly romantic for a man you had only just met.
Cupping your face fondly, he finally spoke; “It’s been too long, princess”
The air was effectively knocked out of your lungs. Senses on overdrive as you attempted to digest the moment, to keep your mind from spinning out of control and steady yourself on the reality you faced.
“I—” The music stopped.
Sounds of sirens whirring neared. Turning, you could see guests muttering amongst themselves, worry in their eyes. You searched the crowd for Namjoon—who was nowhere to be seen. What the fuck, where did he—
Something twisted in your gut. A truth that your body rejected. A fear that grew strong and ached in every fiber of your bones.
You knew.
A group of officers burst into the venue, guns up and aimed, causing the crowd to break into a frenzied panic. And then everything was silent. You swore you could hear a faint ringing as deliria began to spin around in your mind. And then you saw those eyes. Those dark, vicious, hateful eyes that you could never forget.
Jeon Jungkook.
Your entire body trembled, remembering the ways those very eyes had brought you to your knees. He was dressed in a dark trench coat, pinstripe shirt underneath, a confident stride in his step. Reaching into his coat, he flashed a badge as he approached you.
“Y/n L/n” You shut your eyes, a tear dropping down your cheek. You weren’t sure when Taehyung had stepped away from you but he must have, because Jungkook grabbed your wrists, yanking it behind you followed by the resounding click of the handcuffs. In a soft voice, he added sinisterly, “Long time no see, whore”
Humiliation burned in your cheeks as he dragged you in front of the large crowd of guests, who all watched, wide-eyed, stricken with scandal as he announced to them all:
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Kim Seokjin”
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series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks
a/n: AHHHH. thoughts? reactions? SCREAM WITH ME BABY. let me know what you thinking :) did oc murder jin! what happened in those 48 hours hmmmMMm... taehyung's here after all this time, how do we feel about that??? WHOS DR. PARK'S PATIENT???? why is he so susssss??
sorry if the order of events is confusing in this part, basically ill be revealing a bit of what happened in the 48 hours leading up to the murder slowly throughout as jungkook tries to piece it together!
smut pairs are up for the next chp! for those of you who are new here, the smut member changes each time :) this is an ot7 fic and all the other members will come soon <3
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simp4yaaa · a month ago
Text
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗿- 𝗞𝗧𝗛
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𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔- 𝗪𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀
→𝐵𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦, 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒; 𝐵𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑢𝑔𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦, 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛.
pairings: Mafia X Stripper [Taehyung top]
warnings: degrading kink, sir kink, oral sex (male receiving), choking, multiple orgasms, dirty talks, a tiny fluff.
Kim Taehyung, a underground mafia just won a bet of crores. The rivals groaned, "No this can't be we invested millions in it."
"The game is over, and as always the king is on the throne." Taehyung said smirking.
"You piece of shit" the rival said.
"C'mon we all were playing. Someone has to loose" Taehyung said sarcastically. He put his cigarette in the bowl before fixing his coat and leaving. They couldn't even think of attacking Taehyung. They knew their Standards.
Taehyung went in his car demanding the driver, "Take me to the club. I wanna have fun tonight." The driver nodded. Soon they reached there.
He went inside. Two girls with barely any clothes on approached him but he? He didn't even spare a glance.
His choice in his clothes and girls weren't something everyone could have.
Going in, he saw girls and boys making out strippers twerking. psst.
"Taehyung, you here?" a masculine voice said. Taehyung turned only to find his partner in crime, Jimin.
"Oh yes I just came here to find someone good to spend the night with but these all are just basic hoes." Taehyung complained.
"It looks like you still don't know about her." Jimin said.
"about who?"
"Y/N, she's a new stripper. But damn her body and her looks. These men tried hitting on her but she just comes for her work and leaves after work. She's a virgin I heard. Maybe you should try her."
"where? I don't see anyone like that."
Jimin chuckled sarcastically, "People like her don't belong here, she is a stripper for the private rooms"
Taehyung thought about his words and decided to give it a go. A guy approached him in the private club, "Hello sir, welcome to our club. Here is the payment structure and girls to choose from."
"I will pay whatever the amount is but firstly is Y/N in the list?" Taehyung asked.
"Yes she is free right now. Ok, I will book her then. You go inside the room no 45 and wait for a few minutes." the manager said.
He went into the room and sit on the chair waiting to see the stripper. Suddenly the light went off. Taehyung frowned his eyebrows but then heard a song playing. He gaze shifted near the pole and he saw her. He was astonished. She was a work of art. You both made an eye contact. You went near the pole and started your work.
The sensual music playing and your body swinging to it made him hard.
How the hell I didn't knew about her before?
Taehyung stared you the whole time. You slowly removed opened your hairs and removed skirt. Remaining in your sparkly bra and panties. You touch the pole and swing your hips back.
You made your way towards him. From the back of the chair you keep your legs on his shoulder and trace them. Going in front of him you lean towards his face giving him a full view of your cleavage.
Fuck, she is making me hard.
Kim Taehyung, be a man. You should not be weak.
You lay on the ground seducing the fuck out him. His eyes didn't blinked once, his all concentration was on you, your face, your body, your moves.
The music stopped. The time was over. 30 minutes passed away like nothing.
"Any tip, sir?" you said looking straight into his eyes.
"Of course I will, ma'am." he said with his deep voice. "Tell me how much you want?"
"How much you can afford?"
Taehyung chuckled. "I see you don't know who I am. Don't you?"
"I am not here to study occupations sir"
He hissed. "I never knew I'd have a sir kink, thanks to you."
You laughed. "My money?"
He gave you a bundle of notes. You gasped seeing the amount.
"I can give a double, triple however you want, if you accept my offer and keep my dirty secrets"
You looked over him, "what offer? You should know. I am only a stripper not a whore."
"Don't worry honey, I am only asking you to be my personal stripper."
"I make $500 a week, I will take triple amount. You sure about it?"
He chuckled. "I don't even play with $500, that would be a shame."
"who are you? There is no man in the city who will giveaway this much money on a stripper who he is not even sleeping with."
"Kim Taehyung"
Your heart beat faster. Is he the same person whose name was in the wanted poster?
"You're Kim Taehyung, the underground mafia" you said.
"Good guess honey. This is the dirty secret I was talking about. But you shall know if anyone came to know about this, you are just a random girl."
"Don't worry love I am not a fool who will miss the opportunity of having fun with a fine man like you. "
He throwed his head back licking his lips.
"Send me your location, I will be there at 5 and leave this smelly club. Bye" You said leaving the room.
The next day.
He was waiting for you to come,
"Sir there is a girl saying her name 'Y/N' shall I allow her in ?"
Taehyung smiled and nodded.
She entered wearing a lace sleeveless top with black jeans, a chanel belt and a coat in her hand.
perfect.
"Everyone leave this room except for her." Taehyung ordered.
"Where is the washroom I will change my dress into something hot" you said winking.
"why in the washroom?"
"as I said I am only a stripper not a whore."
He rolled his eyes pointing towards the washroom. You changed into your outfit and came in front on him.
"play any song you like" you said. He seated himself and played his song.
You started your work. Dancing for him. Seducing him. But this time you thought of being a little more of a bitch. You sat on his lap and grinded yourself on him.
A hot gasp came from his mouth enough to make you wet.
"Why are you doing this to me Y/N?"
"May I ask you the same sir?" you asked changing your side and sitting on his lap making an eye contact.
"I am not able to get you out my mind from the day I saw you dancing on the pole."
You gulped not knowing what to say.
His hands travelled down to you hips indicating you to move them.
You did it.
You were right now on his lap grinding over his hard dick. You throwed your head back from the sensation on your clit.
"Tae-Taehyung"
"Yes?"
"I-I. This feels good."
"Darling you just said you are not a whore. What now?"
"I take my words back. Just don't stop" you said.
"You wanna continue? There is more pleasure waiting for you." he said looking over his bulge.
"do whatever you want to"
He smirked. He got your consent.
He picked you up and throwed you on the bed hard. He didn't even gave you time to take lay comfortably but kissed you hard.
His lips tasted like alcohol, and alcohol. To be honest, addicting.
He sucked your lips hard while his tongue travelled all around your mouth. Out of all your exes you kissed he was the best. He knew when to bite, when to tickle and when to go hard.
His hand travelled to your waist and he ripped of your slutty outfit. He made an last eye contact before going on your neck and giving you hickeys.
You made a tight grip on his hair to control yourself from moaning. He stopped.
"Moan my name, get it?"
Fuck, he ordered you and you liked it.
You let go all the moans in you. He bite your neck making you gasp hard. HE continues going down making hickeys all the way down. He licked you all the way up again earning a soft moan from you. He came to knew your waist was a sweet spot. His hands then went to your thighs. He caressed them and then,
slapped them, hard.
He gave you hickeys on your thighs too.
You knew he was testing your patience you didn't have.
"Taehyung just fuck me already."
"I will fuck you, as hard as you say but what will I get instead?"
"what you want?"
"Sit on the bed" he said removing himself from top of you. You sat.
"Now tell me whose slut you are?" He said putting more pressure on the word slut. You didn't care about your self respect anymore.
"I am Kim Taehyung's slut. Only he can touch me, fuck me and ruin me wherever, whenever and however he wants to. I just want his dick inside me until I am crying and begging him to stop."
"ah, ah, you like to get degraded I see." he said.
He made you lay down again and removed your panties.
"such a pretty cunt"
You blushed hard on his comment.
He put his one finger in, then two and starts slowly.
"You are a virgin or not?" he asked.
You were embarrassed to answer. "Yes." After hearing that he fasten his speed. You moaned hard.
Three fingers in.
"fuck, fuck" you were a moaning mess.
"tch tch, you have made such a mess out of yourself just by fingers. Love, are you sure you will be able to handle my dick? Hmm?"
"Why don't you try it sir?"
He slapped you butt hard and changed your position. Your face being buried in the pillow and you ass on his face.
You felt something hard tracing your butt.
"I am putting it in"
with that your eyes tighten. The sting in your cunt just said how big or even better, massive he was. He started hard.
You moaned and moaned. The pleasure and the pain was just heaven. Tears felt from eyes spreading you mascara.
"Look at you being a piece of shit when I am inside you. For your information it's not even the three-fourth that is inside you." He said.
You could feel him going as deeper as he can but the length still was not finished.
"Are you on pills you whore?" he pushed your hair tightly.
"Y-yes I am"
"And then you said you were not a whore"
He kept on thrusting and thrusting, you came but there was no sign of him stopping. Soon you felt something hot filling your cunt and he took out his dick..
You again tossed you around. You closed your eyes from back ache. You opened your eyes and saw yourself filled with purple hickeys and you cunt being all white from his cum.
"Your turn" he said stroking his dick. "I guess you know how to give a blow job."
He just came, but is still so fucking hard.
You gulped seeing his size but still nodded.
You both took position you slowly put his dick inside your mouth and start sucking it. You chocked but he didn't care. He held your head and pushed you deeper.
Cum didn't taste as bad as you thought.
He started messaging your clit making it harder for you. You were gasping for air. You felt his dick twitching inside you. He came in your mouth making you chock.
He gave you water from the nearby table. You drink it and came back in your senses.
Taehyung wore his boxers, "You know, I had a good sex after ages."
You just sat on the bed shamelessly checking him out. You tried moving but your body failed to. It felt like you were paralyzed.
But the back shots were worth it.
He came to you looking at your state. "want some help?"
He picked you in his arms. You were totally naked in his arms. You were so tiny compared to him.
"Y/N, do you wanna be something more than just my stripper or whore?" He asked. You smiled at him. "why not?"
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writtenwhalien · 2 months ago
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a lover’s redemption | prologue
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pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader
genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)
18+ | warnings ↠ all sorts of crime (including: drug and arms trade, embezzlement, mentions of kidnapping and attempted kidnapping), frequent use of guns and knives, gore (non-descriptive), mild injuries to multiple characters including reader, death. 
word count ↠ 6.3k
summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.
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taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3
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notes ↠ this is one of the fics i’ve been most excited to share since i came up with the idea almost a year ago now, i hope i can do justice to the story that’s in my head LOL. with the next part, i’ll be sharing the series masterlist and a glossary of sorts to keep up with the characters + locations as the story progresses :) for now: sehun — reader’s dad. biggest thank you to mimi @personasintro​ for putting up with me for the last few months when i’ve been so annoying 😭 i really appreciate your help and support so so so much! ❤️+ my sweet ash, @jimilter​ thank you for being the most supportive and lovely beta (i have changed this a little too since you read it i think ) <3 + hadi @amourtae​ for listening to me so many times and always checking in 🥺 + hana @cutechim​ + naia @opaljm​ for helping me out too! (it was a while ago now lol) 🥰 lastly, if you read it, please tell me how you find it  send a comment/dm/send an ask it means so much to me <3 
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29th June 2011
Sehun was tired. His day was dragging on and the throbbing in his head only seemed to get worse by the hour. All he really wanted was to spend the rest of his evening at home with his family, to hug his wife while they would both listen to you talk about your day, but he was still stuck here. Lines creased his forehead as he sat across from the two men he has only ever called his closest friends – brothers – yet these days, it seems less so. 
“This isn’t what we agreed,” he said, lowering his voice.
Neither of the two men said anything at first, certainly having expected this response. Lee Han-Jae at least had the decency to look somewhat concerned by Sehun’s disapproval, reaching forward to pour himself a drink. 
“It’s wrong, we don’t do stuff like this, it’s more for the likes of the Takahashi or the Cheong’s,” Sehun presses. “Not us, never us.”
Lee Han-jae was the first to speak. “But what if it is us?”
If Sehun hadn’t known the man for long, he wouldn’t have been able to detect the impatience hidden behind the curiosity in his tone. But he had, he’d known him for nineteen years.
Han-jae slides the drink in front of Sehun instead.“We have all the power to help these people, we can do this.” He glanced sideways to the third man in the room. 
Cold eyes and hard set features, Park Jihoon merely nodded before speaking. “He’s right, Sehun,” he said, unmoving in his seat. His eyes were focused on your father.  “And it only puts us at an advantage. Everyone will be on our side.”
“Everyone’s already on our side,” Sehun said, impatience cutting through his tone. “We don’t need this, it’s not right.”
“We’ve already spoken to all the families involved. They’ve agreed on the price and most of them are happy to proceed—”
“They’ve agreed to sell their own family into prostitution to make their debts disappear?” Sehun interrupted sharply, missing the way Jihoon’s fingers curled into his fist.
Han-jae paused, eyes flickering with brief uncertainty as his lifelong best friend looked at him in anger. “Don’t say it like that, we’re not criminals, it’s not like we’re forcing them–”
Sehun’s patience was running short. “You’re giving them no choice, it’s either this, or you kill them, right?”
“No.” Han-jae’s gaze sharpened. “We’re setting them up for a better life than those kids would ever have, and with the nightclub we can legitimize our money, that’s what you wanted, is it not?”
Releasing a sigh, Sehun leaned back into the leather couch. “Not like this. Under our names the club will be successful enough, we don’t need to buy innocent men and women from these desperate families to make it better—”
“We’re not buying them,” Jihoon cut in calmly. “Their service is owed to us.”
The nonchalance in Jihoon’s tone flared anger in Sehun. “No, the service of criminals who have wronged us is what is owed to us, not of their innocent family members,” he responded, looking between his two friends. “How would you feel if it was Jimin?” he asked Jihoon before turning to Han-jae. “Or Taemin?”
Jihoon’s expression remained unchanged, however Han-jae sighed, pouring himself another drink. No one said anything as he emptied his glass, and when he finished, he still seemed unsure. 
“They’ll do better under our watch. We’ll give them housing, an education, more money than  they’ll ever see in their lifetime if they are to stay living as they are now.”
“No,” Sehun shook his head. “If you really cared about helping them then you would give them that without asking them to live a life indebted to you.”
“So what do you suggest we do then?” Jihoon asked, only now sitting forward as he tilted his head, awaiting an answer.
“Find some other way for the men to pay the debts. We never have any shortage of dirty work that needs doing, they can be tasked to those jobs,” your father answered swiftly.
Han-jae and Jihoon looked at each other for only a brief second before Jihoon nodded and sat back again. 
“Alright,” Han-jae said quietly, looking back at your father. “We’ll try to stop it.”
“Try?”
“The kids have already been moved to a remote location—”
“Then bring them back.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Oh come on, Han-jae,” Sehun couldn’t help but scoff. “You speak of being the most powerful man in Seoul and yet you can’t stop an operation you’ve started.”
“Will you help us then?” Jihoon asked as though testing how far his friend is willing to go.
“Of course,” your father’s answer came with no hesitation, his heart hurting as he thought of you in the same position as those kids. “Whatever you need.”
“Very well then,” Jihoon said, looking at Han-jae and raising his glass. “We bring them back.”
It’s an hour later that Sehun could tell that something was up, and it was Jimin who made him realise. 
Halfway through dinner, Han-jae received a text. “Gentlemen,” he said, clearing his throat and wiping his mouth. “I’ll have to excuse myself momentarily to deal with some business for the house.” He got up and looked at his son. “Taemin, come with me.”  
Taemin nodded, getting up and doing as he was told. 
As Sehun watched Taemin leave, he didn’t see Jihoon and Han-jae exchange glances, however he looked back and saw Jimin staring down at his plate, jaw tight and fist clenched on the table unlike moments prior.
No one else was paying him any attention as Han-jae and Taemin left the room, leaving Sehun with Jimin and Jihoon, as well as a few of the other Lee men. 
Jihoon carried on eating, his knife cutting into his steak as Sehun watched him and Jimin. 
Then, Jimin looked up and accidentally met Sehun’s gaze. He swallowed, eyes telling far too much before he blinked and looked away.
He said his goodbyes, allowing Han-jae and Taemin to walk him out to his car before he got in and drove off the property, but Sehun didn’t go home later that night. 
Parking off on a quiet road less than a mile out and hidden from sight, he got out of his car and went to the trunk, opening up a hidden compartment at the bottom and pulling out his hand gun. It took him no more than twenty minutes to get back to the property, evading all the security measures he was familiar with since he had them for his own home, and slipped into the back of  the courtyard.
He stayed quiet, hiding behind some of the foliage decorating the yard, and for a moment, there was nothing. Just the steady blowing of the wind through the trees surrounding the property. He didn’t know exactly what he was waiting for, he just knew it was something. Then he heard it. 
Harsh whispering and muffled sounds coming down the steps of the back entrance. One look up and his heart froze when he saw someone being dragged out of the house, mouth gagged and  hands tied yet she still fought as hard as she could. But there were three men dragging her to the car, struggling, however still succeeding to throw her into the trunk, and then Sehun saw her face. 
He felt a rush of emotions — anger, betrayal, disappointment and determination — when he realised it was Ji-young being thrown into the car.
Sehun always had his suspicions that Han-jae cared little for his step-daughter from his late wife who he also cared little for, especially considering he isn’t Ji-young’s father, but he never would have expected his friend to do something like this. 
At that moment, he knew that his friends lied to him, and Han-jae was meaning to send Ji-young away to the same fate as those others.
So Sehun did what he had to do, unknowingly sealing his fate, and that of your family by saving Ji-young behind Han-jae’s back.
It was easy enough to take out the first two men as they made their way back into the house, unaware of their surroundings. He used his pocket knife, a clean cut to the throat so they couldn’t cry out and draw any attention. He shoved their bodies onto the grass before trailing alongside the car to get to the third guy climbing into the driver’s seat. 
With great force, Sehun pulled the guy out of the car, slamming him into the side of the vehicle. The man had some weight on Sehun but not much skill. As he tried to grab his gun, Sehun jabbed him hard in the neck before taking the gun and slamming the butt end into his face a few times. 
His body fell to the floor with a heavy thud and Sehun was well aware that the sound of the scuffle would have grabbed the attention of someone nearby – he needed to hurry. 
Wiping the spattered blood from his face, he rushed to the trunk. Ji-young trembled, wailing into the cloth tied around her mouth as she looked up at your father. Relief instantly flooded her features as she recognised him.
“It’s okay,” Sehun shushed her gently, working as fast as he could to untie her hands. “Get in the back of the car, I’m right here, okay? We need to get you away from here.”
Ji-young nodded frantically, tears staining her cheeks. “O-okay.”  She wiped her tears away, pulling off the last of the bonds as Sehun rushed to pick up the first of the bodies from the floor. 
He struggled while dragging the first to the trunk, but as he started shoving it into the car, Jiyoung was there helping him. He paused, looking at her warily. She simply nodded, averting her eyes away from the dead body in front of her to finish shoving the man’s legs inside the trunk. 
Together, they got the bodies in the trunk and within a few minutes, they were driving off the Lee property and into the night.
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 present 
The loud bang echoes across the space but you don’t wait for the sound to settle. Pushing your index finger down, you take another shot, and another, and another. 
Time passes quickly when you're here, ten minutes quickly turning into an hour. You stay for as long as it takes for you to feel lighter, more sure of yourself. 
Lowering the gun onto the table, you let your shoulder relax as you try to scrutinise the target fifty yards ahead of you, before turning away to head towards the door leading out of the range. However, before you even get there, you pause.
Yoongi stands ahead of you, leaning against the wall. He gives you a small smile when you look his way, but there’s no hiding the solemn expression his face shows. Letting out a small sigh, you nod, motioning for him to walk out with you. 
Once out of the range, you pull your ear defenders off while Yoongi takes the gun from you to safely return.
“You’ve improved,” he muses, nodding in acknowledgement to the staffer who checks off the weapon. 
Slipping into your jacket, you glance across at him. “You think so?”
“Mhm,” he nods, stepping towards the exit and placing his hands in his trouser pockets as he faces you. Yoongi has always been one to dress smart no matter what the occasion. “You always used to miss the mark by a few inches, now you’re almost there.” He smiles again, this time a bit brighter.
Shooting him a playful look, you respond while grabbing the last of your belongings, “I’m just out of practice, it's been a while.”
“Ah, well it’s a good thing you’ve started again,” he says, this time his voice is lower, making you look up at him. He’s no longer smiling and he doesn't try to disguise his concern. Your expression falls in response and a silent exchange passes between you.
“Not here,” he mutters, nodding towards the door. 
Less than fifteen minutes later, you find yourself seated outside a convenience store with him, sipping on some chocolate milk. You take long sips, wondering what it could be; truthfully, you’re not sure if you really want to know. Yoongi says nothing until you ask him first, so with a quiet sigh, you place your half full carton down on the table.
“So,” you say quietly, “What is it this time?”
Yoongi lowers his carton too, fingers twiddling with the straw. “The Cheong’s are back on the street,” he says, cutting to the chase as he always does (and you prefer it that way). “They intercepted a cargo shipment that was meant to dock at Gwangyang Port for DK Pharmaceuticals yesterday.”
“What was in the shipment?”
“Opioids.”
A sigh escapes you. That’s the last thing you hoped it was; you would’ve preferred it to be a shipment of handguns. Opioids back on the streets only means that the rich are preying on the weak and vulnerable again. 
“Is anyone doing anything about it?”
Yoongi pauses, looking at you in apprehension. “I thought I’d come to you first.” You’re about to say something but Yoongi quickly continues. “I know you’re trying to get out of it but you helped me out a lot last time and I could really use your help now. No one knows you’re back in Seoul and that puts us at an advantage.”
“No one except you,” you note, watching your friend steadily.
“No one except me,” he repeats. “I’m taking your secret to the grave with me.”
You nod in acknowledgement, picking up your carton to take another long sip. “What about your people?” you ask. 
Yoongi gives you a weary look. Despite how close the two of you are, Yoongi is especially secretive about who he works for – you know that they’re no doubt linked to the life you grew up in, the one that you’re still evidently caught up in, but you don’t know who. You never press him to know though; you understand the need for secrecy and in some ways are grateful for it  –  there’s a lot Yoongi doesn’t tell you and it’s his way of protecting you. 
“There’s other stuff going on,” he answers quietly. “It’s a lot.”
The statement naturally piques your interest.  “Like what?”
A small smile appears on Yoongi’s lips. “You’re trying to get out, remember?” he reminds you. “It’s best not to ask questions.”
You frown at him in indignation. “You’re the one who said it’s stupid to try and get out, but now you’re agreeing with it?”
He shrugs. “No harm in trying.”
You smile amusedly. “I’m a small cafe owner who visits a shooting range in her free time to stay sane.”
Yoongi‘s smile widens. “No one said you’re a normal cafe owner. You might’ve changed your last name, Miss L/N, but you’re a Han. Always will be.”
“I know.” Your gaze falls to your lap. “I’m not trying to hide who I am.”
“I know you’re not.” Yoongi’s expression changes to a soft one. “If you were, you wouldn’t be out here living a double life at my request.”
“Well, like you said, I’m a Han. It’s what my dad would do.”
“Ah.” Yoongi stretches. “Cafe owner by day, vigilante by night.”
You chuckle softly. “You make it sound like I’m doing something good… there’s not much good in the life we’re living, Yoongi.”
There’s a quiet pause in which Yoongi sighs, a thoughtful expression passing over his face. “It’s not all bad, at least not what you’re doing.”
“Honestly, it keeps me going and it’s the least I can do to help.”
Yoongi smiles, and a brief silence full of thoughts passes between you as you finish what’s left of your chocolate milk. “So,” you place the empty carton down, “where are they keeping the shipment?”
“The same warehouse off highway 46 from Jung-gu. They’ll have several guards on watch surrounding the place.”
“It’s the same place as last time?” you ask, frowning.  “They’re not very smart.”
“Well they have tried stealing drugs from a legitimate pharmaceutical company,” Yoongi says pointedly. “I don’t think they’re very bright. But,” he adds, “they’re powerful.” He sits forward, pulling out a car key fob from his inside pocket and places this on the table.
You look down at it. “Same drill as last time?”
“Yep. Everything you need is there. You’ll also find a burner phone in there. Once it’s all done, text me from there. The police will come and seize the drugs.”
“Why don’t they just deal with it themselves?” 
Yoongi frowns deeply. “The Cheong’s have been dealing with the Takahashi’s. If the police get in there first, they’ll detain the guards and any evidence which includes their phones. If that happens, the Takahashi's get brought in…” He lets out a slow sigh. “That can’t happen. They’re under our protection for a while.”
You don’t ask any further questions. Picking it up, you turn the fob over in your hand, your thumb sliding over the metal print of the Mercedes sign. Letting out a small breath, you look up at Yoongi. “No holding back?”
Expression somber, he nods. “No holding back.”
You know you should feel something in those words, maybe a little bit of guilt, or at least fear for what you have to do, but you don’t. It’s hard to, when you know what will happen to innocent victims if you don’t do this. 
Instead, you see an opportunity. “I need something in return.”
Yoongi lifts his head calmly. “Is everything okay?”
You nod, placing the key down on the table. “Just, promise me you’ll do it first.”
At this, Yoongi’s expression changes to one of concern and he hesitates. 
Meeting his gaze, you say his name. “Please.”
“Alright.” Yoongi shifts, keeping his eyes on you. “I promise.”
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The car is exactly where Yoongi said it would be. You don’t bother looking at what he’s given you until you’re parked in close proximity to the warehouse but distant enough to not be seen by any of the guards.
There’s two cases in the trunk, one significantly larger than the other. You open the small one first, smiling when you see two handguns sitting snug in the case. A FNS-F9 Longslide – your weapon of choice – and a Glock 17 – Yoongi’s personal favourite.
The larger case contains magazines, two thigh holsters, a waist strap, a bulletproof vest, and a smaller case sheathing two double edged, partially serrated hand knives – Gerber Mark II’s. 
Strapping the holsters around your thigh, you slot the guns in and arm yourself with the knives too, just in case, and tuck a spare magazine into your side pocket, as well as a silencer. You choose not to wear the bulletproof vest – although it’s light, it’ll still slow you down.  
Closing the trunk, you quickly grab something from the front of the car that you brought with you from home. In a silk pouch, you keep a vial of chloroform and multiple napkins – you pocket these before making your way towards the warehouse. It’s surrounded by a patch of trees, making it the perfect place to hide such crimes, but it’s also advantageous for you to approach easily without being seen. 
You quickly scout the place from the outskirts, noting a total of 8 guards outside; three at the front, two at the back, two on the east side, and one on the west. You’re well aware that as soon as any of them realise you’re here, they’ll send a call out for more, so you need to be strategic and quick.
West is where you hit first. A man walks slowly along the concrete wall, kicking at stones with every step. You observe him silently from the shadows and note how young he looks, at least definitely younger than you. Yoongi’s words echo in your head  –  “No holding back” – but you can’t forget that some of these guards aren’t here by choice. Besides, killing them only protects the Takahashi’s and that’s of no interest to you. Sometimes, collateral damage happens, and you know Yoongi knows that.
So, you sheathe the knife you intended to use and instead pull a napkin from the pouch and douse it in chloroform. It only takes a few careful steps for you to reach the guard from behind, and with a swift movement before he can reach for the gun at his waist, you pull him into a secure headlock and smother his face with the cloth. For a second, he almost has you, struggling and resisting your arms, but the chloroform works fast and he slows. 
Seconds later, you’re lowering him to the ground. You take the gun from his waist, disabling it and tossing it somewhere into the trees before taking his phone and stowing it away into your pocket. Before you move on, you drag his body out towards the trees so no one who comes looking will be alerted to your presence. 
You begin moving fast along the warehouse wall, only slowing down when you approach the corner to the back. Back pressed against the wall, you peek slowly around the corner only to draw back almost immediately – another guy has joined them making it three men now, one of whom is peeing just a few feet away from where you are, facing away from the warehouse, while the other two stand on the other end, out of earshot.
Again, you come up with a way to avoid a kill – you wait until the man is doing up his zipper before taking a firm hold of the glock and walking right up behind him. Then you tap his shoulder.
He turns around and meets your smiling expression, looking visibly confused. “Huh?”
Before he can look past your face to see the weapons in your holster, the butt end of your gun is hitting him square in the jaw followed by you hooking your hands behind his head and bringing his head down to meet your knee. 
You feel the pain in your knee as his unconscious body drops to the ground. “Ouch,” you grumble, rolling your shoulders too from the force with which you hit him. It’s been a while since you’ve done this, it would’ve been a good idea to stretch first. 
Crouching down, you quickly take the guy’s gun and remove the bullets before moving him into the tree line like you'd done with the other guy. Then you cautiously move towards the other two. As you get closer, you pull out the silencer and attach it to the longslide while listening to the idle conversation between the two. 
“It’s been almost a month since I’ve been back there and I swear I’ve never been happier,” the shorter of the two says, taking a drag of a cigarette.
The taller guy laughs. “Bet you emptied your pockets too.”
The short one laughs too. “Spent at least a million won but it was worth it. You should’ve seen those girls and the one I had in the private show, fuck,” he exhales, smirking grossly. “The tits on her. I got a fucking semi just by looking at them.”
You cringe upon hearing that, hurrying up as you check the bullets in the barrel. 
“Would’ve spent all my money too then. Where is this place, huh?”
“It’s the Lee’s place, the best place for this shit in all of Seoul.”
“I heard about that, they’ve been running it for years now, apparently they keep the girls–”
Standing up, you unhesitatingly shoot both of them in their dicks. 
High pitched groans fill the space surrounding you as they keel over onto the ground, blood staining their jeans rapidly. 
You step out from where you are and walk over to stand between them.  They both look up at you, still rolling over in pain, their teary-eyes wide and red. 
“You fucking bitch,” the short one rasps, heavily breathing as he tries to reach for his gun. 
“Nu-uh,” you tut, taking it from him before he can and taking the other guy’s too. You remove the bullets from them both before dropping the guns right over the men’s crotches. “Oops,” you pout sarcastically. 
They cry out, the sound too stilted to be able to be heard from anyone else unless they’re close by.
“The fuck d’you want?” the taller one hisses, grabbing onto your ankle.
You shoot him a dirty look, pulling your ankle free and digging your heel into his crotch. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out as his body curls up.  
“Nothing, at least not from you idiots,” you answer, removing your heel to do the same to the shorter guy, watching emotionlessly as they both suffer in pain.
Sighing, you drag your heel in the ground to remove some of the blood and take a look at the time on your phone. 1.07am. 
“I guess you’re lucky. I'm short on time.” 
The two barely have a chance to look at you before you’re putting a second round of bullets in them and dragging their bodies closer to the trees. 
Adrenaline is starting to course through you now, coming at the perfect time as your patience runs low after killing those last two guards. You don’t bother hiding as you walk along the east side of the warehouse, approaching the two guards walking towards you.
“Hey!” One of them calls out as they both draw their guns. You already have yours cocked and ready in your hand hanging by your side.
The two men look at each other before turning back to your figure as you approach, their faces expressing confusion when they see you; you have no doubt that they only haven’t shot yet because they can see you’re a woman. But then they see the longslide in your hand and the glock at your thigh. 
“Oi! Stop right now or I'll shoot!” The same guy warns again but you don’t.
You don’t stop until you’re only a few feet away so you can have a better aim at the man’s chest.  A second later he’s on the floor and his friend is bewildered, aiming his gun at you.
“What the fuck?!” He exclaims, his gun shooting in your direction but you’ve already ducked and rolled out of the way having expected the shot. As you straighten up with one knee still on the floor, you steady yourself by outstretching a leg in front of you, placing your foot firmly on the ground and getting a perfect shot to the second one’s chest. 
Six down, two to go. Well, for the guards outside at least; there’s no telling how many are inside.
The last two go down as easily as the rest and within a few minutes, you’re approaching the huge rusted metal doors of the warehouse. One has been left slightly ajar and you press your back close to the metal as you approach it, straining your ears to listen for any voices. You can make out at least three and your judgment tells you they’re around twenty feet away from the entrance where you stand. 
Ever so slowly, you edge closer until you can peer inside. The space ahead of you is mostly obscured by tall shelves carrying scaffolding poles — it’s the same set up as the last time you were here. The warehouse is disguised as a unit for scaffolding materials with aisle after aisle of tall shelves. This works greatly to your advantage so you can enter unseen. 
However, although you’re confident in your skill, you know that you can’t take on three armed men at the same time, so to make things easier for yourself, you draw them out. 
One hard knock on the metal door is enough. 
“The fuck was that?” You hear one voice say. 
“Oi, go check it out.”
“You go check it out, you pussy,”
“Who the fuck you calling pussy?”
“Prove it then, go fucking look.”
“I will, fucking idiot, don’t call me pussy.”
You hear a few more mumbles but you’re not paying attention as you draw the small Gerber Mark II from your thigh. Moving behind the door that’s slightly ajar, you wait with bated breath as you hear the sound of a gun cocking just a few feet away from you. 
Seconds later, the door is being kicked open further and you move steadily with it, careful not to make any noise behind the creaking metal. 
The door being pushed open further gives you better space to hide and as the man raises his rifle and steps out, aiming at the space around him cautiously, you quickly step out from behind the door to make your move. 
One hand clamps over his mouth as you press your chest against his back as close as you can to protect yourself if he tries to shoot. He doesn’t get much of a chance though, only managing to shoot one stray shot in a second of panic before the sharp edge of your knife is slicing his throat. 
He drops to the ground, body writhing and his gaze meets yours — your chest tightens and you have to look away as you shoot him once more in the head to end his misery. 
With no time to spare, you grab his phone and throw it hard against the warehouse wall. You know that the men inside will have heard the shot which means you need to hurry before they realise the rest of the guards are dead and call for more help. 
Hurriedly, you slip into the warehouse and move to hide behind the closest shelf while you hear the sounds of footsteps coming closer.
You hold your gun up towards the sound of the footsteps, ready to shoot as soon as someone comes into view. Finger hovering over the trigger, you wait patiently in your obscured position, and then the first man appears. 
Bang. Bang, Bang. The shots fire from your gun and before his body even hits the floor you’re stepping around the corner of the shelf and moving fast behind the next one to change your position before you get caught. You’re grateful it’s mostly dark here so you can move more freely. 
“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” A harsh voice bellows from where you just were. 
Of course you don’t respond, instead rushing down the length of the aisle. You reach the end and cautiously peer around the corner to see one of them by the entrance. He’s facing away from you, standing still with his gun raised. Without hesitation, you aim for his chest and pull the trigger. 
He drops to his knees first, his rifle dropping to the concrete ground before he falls. 
Your mistake is watching — from right next to his body, a man steps out with his gun raised right at you. He shoots and it misses you by a thread as you step back just in time. 
“Go around the other side!” You hear his voice call out and footsteps fill the space around you. 
Fuck. There’s two more men and you have nowhere to go from here, so you do what you have to do. 
Looking around the corner again, you see the man approaching. He shoots as soon as you stick your head out but this time you shoot back in his direction, noticing your advantage as he walks towards you out in the open. But you know that there’s the fourth guard coming in your direction so you have to be quick. 
You step back after every shot you take and after the third, you hear him swear out loud. One more look and you see him clutching his shoulder as blood drips down his arm. 
Before you can even shoot again, you’re alerted to the presence of someone behind you and just as you turn around to aim, a hard kick meets your ribs and your gun gets knocked out of your hands.
The pain shoots through you and your hand instinctively raises to the source as you stumble back, your other hand reaching for the glock. 
“Not so fast, pretty,” the guard says, grabbing your arm and pushing you against the shelf. He’s the same height as you with an average build — you reckon you can take him but you’re still aware that the other guard is still alive and more importantly, armed. 
However, this guard is your first concern. He reaches for the glock himself and you let him. It gives you the chance to discreetly reach for the knife at your other thigh and stab him in the first place you can. That happens to be his hip. 
He grunts loudly, grip on your arm tightening but with one hand still holding your glock, you quickly use his strength against him and push into his body, stabbing him again in his abdomen and once at his wrist so he drops your gun. 
With no time to pick it up, you kick this out of the way just in time before his strong hands grip at you again. “What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses, throwing a punch to your face which you manage to block with your arm but it still hurts. 
Teeth gritted, you struggle to get free of his grasp this time so you bring your knee up but he jerks backwards in time. This only angers him more and he throws you harshly to the floor. 
You feel nothing as your knees and elbows hit the concrete, adrenaline surging through your fight response kicks in – kill or be killed.
The guard comes closer and you look around quickly trying to figure out what to do. You spot your longslide that was knocked out of your hands just a few feet away from you.
“Wait!” you say instinctively, eyes rounding in false fear as you look up at him. “Please don’t hurt me.”
He pauses, eyes trained on your frightened expression and for a second you think you have him. Then he shakes his head and reaches for his gun.
In a split second, you use all your upper body strength to push yourself off the ground while sweeping out one of his legs from beneath him. 
He’s stumbling forward as you lunge for your own gun but just when you’re about to grab it, his hand is on your left calf and dragging your body towards him. You spot another gun strapped to his right thigh.
“Hey, I got her!”
You try to kick free from him but he’s stronger and has you on your feet, body restrained by his arms in seconds. As the other guard comes around the corner with his arm bleeding thanks to you, an idea suddenly comes to mind. 
Using only a fraction of your strength, you try to resist the man holding you and watch carefully as the other one approaches with his rifle aimed at you despite his bleeding shoulder. 
“Who are you?” he questions. 
“Answer the question,” the guard holding you says, squeezing you harder. 
“Just kill me,” you mutter, slowing down in the other’s arm. 
“I will, after you tell me who sent you,” the guard spits, pressing his rifle into your chest. 
Kill or be killed – it doesn’t have to be as a simple gunshot or the throw of a dagger… 
Faking a fearful expression, meeting the guards sharp eyes as you answer, “I didn’t want to, they made me do it.”
The two guards exchange wary looks.
“Please, I’ll tell you everything just don’t hurt me.”
The one holding you nods at the other one and he lowers his gun.”Who sent you?” his voice comes from behind your ear.
“It was Takahashi,” you answer shakily, bracing yourself as you feel the man’s grip on you loosen further.
The one holding the rifle lowers it completely. “Takahashi?” he asks, confused. “Why the fuck  would he send someone here?”
“I-I don’t know.” Your right hand slowly moves towards the man’s thigh behind you. “They said something about teaching the Cheong’s a lesson.”
“Why did they send you?” the one holding you questions. “You work for them?”
“No,” you fake a whimper, head lowering as your hand closes around his arm as though in fear.
“Then why’d they send you?” he asks again, except this time you note his voice is softer. Time to move.
Your hand closes around the gun at his thigh and you shoot once at the ground to disorient them both while immediately pulling on the man’s arm to have his body in front of you as a shield. 
He takes the bullet that his friend fires in retaliation to yours, straight in the chest  – the man holding you goes slack, his hold on you weakening as a result of the shot his friend just fired at him. “Shit, Jung!”
Using Jung as cover, you shoot the space three times ahead of you and then there’s silence. 
Jung drops to his hands and knees, groaning as he clutches his abdomen and slowly looks up at you. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks.
You glance at his friend’s dead body, blood pooling from two fatal wounds. “No one.” You look away before you put a bullet in his head.
Weariness catches up to you as you walk out of the warehouse and into the cover of the trees back to where the car is parked. Pain is starting to spread through your sore muscles and you have no doubt you’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow. 
Once you reach the car, you find the burner phone Yoongi gave you and text him a simple ‘it’s done’. Two words which should weigh heavy on your mind as you remember there are ten men who just lost their lives tonight. 
But you know that this is how this works, so tonight, you go home and sleep as though none of this happened. 
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A/N: thank you for reading! <3 if you liked this, please comment/reblog/send an ask to rant/share your thoughts w me!!! – it means a lot! :) 
taglist is open!
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smasmashie · 2 months ago
Text
House of Serpents [1]
Pairing: OT7 x reader
Genre: Mafia AU
Summary: Straight-A student by day, Kim Namjoon’s personal toy by night, you didn’t live a terrible life. At least not until you met his six equally depraved “friends.”
Tags: PWP with some plot, shameless smut, sugar daddy, possessive behavior, power imbalance, size kink, strength kink, oral, overstimulation, moral bankruptcy, 5-way betrayal  
Masterlist
[Part 1] [Part 2] 
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Kim Namjoon is a frightening man.
Kim Namjoon is frightening because he never gets mad, not the way the others do. He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t raise his hand. When he speaks, his tone is steady and calm, not a ripple of emotion.
“I must have misunderstood,” Namjoon says, grip tight around your wrist as he tugs you close, between his legs. He’s leaning back on the kitchen island, a glass of whiskey in one hand. “What does exclusive mean to you?”
He puts the drink down and uses that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind you ear, eyes narrowed, searching all over your face. From this close he smells enticingly of smoke and sandalwood.
“What?” You blink, playing stupid.
“I asked,” Namjoon repeats, clearly in no mood to play. “What does exclusive mean?”
“It means I get to make you jealous,” you gamble. There’s a chance it’ll turn Namjoon on. There’s also a chance it’ll make him snap. As far as you know him, chances are fifty-fifty.
“Do you now?” Namjoon chuckles, slipping two fingers under your chin, pulling you closer until you can feel his breath in warm, hot waves on your lips. “And why’s that?”
“I don’t know,” you hum, lips grazing Namjoon’s mouth as you speak. “I missed your attention maybe.”
“My attention?” Namjoon cocks his head, a sadistic shadow crowding over his face as he runs his palms down the length of your arms, until they meet your hands. He picks them up, cages them easily in his long, slender fingers, and brings them to his mouth, showering them with little possessive kisses. His voice is hushed and low as he mutters the words into your fingertips, “And how would you like my attention, hm?”
You smile, coy. This is getting a little out of hand, even for a client. Sure, you get a little banged up sometimes. That’s just work. Happens all the time. But right now, with the way Namjoon’s seizing you up, with the way his profile read in Yoongi’s office, you’re not sure if you’d wake up alive.
“I could use a little more cash. Textbooks are expensive,” you claim, laughing, trying to step out of his grip. But he simply pulls on your hands until you’re in his space again. When you breathe, your chest presses lightly into his. No doubt it’s distracted him a bit, as he wraps one arm around your waist. Brings you closer still, until you’re pressed together. You have to bend backwards just to keep your face at a distance, but Namjoon seems intent on closing that gap, chasing your lips with his own.
“All you have to do is ask, you know,” Namjoon says, kissing you slowly, allowing you to melt into his lips, as if he’s afraid to break you. You can’t pretend that it doesn’t turn you on a little, how gentle he is being, reeling back all that strength that you know he has in him. Strength that he probably used to kill a few people but hours ago. “Anything you want, baby, it’s yours.”
When you begin to shift away, he cups a hand to your cheek and tugs you back, angling his face to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning deeply when he gets a taste of you. And you can’t help but whimper, with how tightly he is squeezing you to him, how good, how hot his mouth feels on yours.
That whimper turns him on, and you know it from the way his movements have changed. He pulls away, eyes clouded with want. He slides his arms under your thighs and picks you up. Simple as that, he throws you over his shoulder and carries you to your bed. His bed.
The condo might be in your name, but it came out of Namjoon’s pocket. He gifted it to you the fifth time he met you. Fully furnished, import Italian marble, your favourite Nongke orchids at corner and the keys to a Porsche on the kitchen counter.
“Nothing but the best,” he said, “for my new friend.”
It surprised you, to say the least, and it made Seokjin irritable for weeks. “Fucking gangster,” Seokjin swore, “Let’s see what kind of best you can afford when I lock your 148 IQ ass in maximum security prison.”
You both knew what Namjoon wanted. It was not your first time mixing with dangerous men. Before this, Yoongi had brokered you to tyrants of war, Silicon Valley billionaires, and blood diamond kings. They were always rich, always eager to spoil you for an ounce of affection. Yacht keys in one hand, handcuffs in the other.
But Namjoon isn’t nearly as transparent. He never asks. He is the type to pay the long game. Head of the quietest, most powerful crime family in East Asian history, Seokjin called him. Not even the NIS saw him coming, not for years. Not until he had already destroyed his competition, until the prestigious families of Italy to Istanbul had learnt to kiss his hand and war for his favor.
And unlike most, Namjoon is patient. He’s taken you out for coffee, for lunch, for countless dinners and walks in the park, before so much laying a finger on you. Every second you spend with him, you can feel him meticulously taking you apart, exploring your every secret, every intent. Methodically turning over every part of you.
He doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust anyone.
He can fuck you a million times, but that’s all you would be to him – a toy. Something to use.
He throws you on the bed, as if you weigh nothing.
“Undress,” he says, simple as that.
You do so without question, bashfully working your blouse open from the top, teeth sunk into your lower lip. This is how he likes you. Shy. Submissive. His. Your hands tremble as they slip past your breast, and you keep your attention fixated on the floor as you peel it from your shoulders. You’re very aware of the way Namjoon is watching you, of how starved he looks.
“Nam—” your words are clipped as he pushes you back down, mouth on your ear, growling something you can’t make out.
He palms at your tummy, slipping one hand beneath your skirt, and traces the tips of his fingers under your underwear. In moments he’s rubbing into your clit with his palm, fingers gliding easily into you, stretching you open. It feels good, you won’t lie. It feels more than good. He’s got you on edge in a blink, got you shoving your hips uselessly against him for more.
And then he stops. He leans back a moment and hooks his hands around your skirt and underwear, pulling them both down off impatiently before he dives in face first with a moan. He breathes you in sharply, inhales and inhales, and noses your clit before pushing his tongue into you.
You writhe uselessly as he pushes your thighs open, rubbing circles on tender skin with his hands. He pulls away for a second, only to lap greedily at your slick, cleaning it off from every inch of your skin as he watches you, eyes heavy and hooded. The taste of you seems to make him more eager. He trails up slowly, sucking and licking your folds. The tip of his tongue flicks at the little nub of your clit, and he holds you firmly in place when you begin to buck from sensitivity.
“Please,” You beg, hips shaking uncontrollably. It’s back-fires, really, the more you move the more he digs into you, laying the flat of his tongue against all of you. “Just fuck me.”
“Come for me first,” He says, voice reverberating deep into you. You’re trembling for real now, so close, too close. Namjoon knows – he can probably tell from the way you’re fisting the sheets – that you hate feeling out of control like this. But it’s not his concern, how you feel. For him, falling apart or fucked to unconsciousness, you’re just entertainment. That’s all he needs from you. He’s paying you handsomely to come for him, to let him watch you and take you, and that’s all you’re allowed to do.
As he starts fingering you, pumping into your sweet spot almost punitively with each stroke, Namjoon demands, “Come for me, baby, let me taste you.”
“I’m,” You choke out, “please, please, please,” and then when Namjoon hits your spot again, with too many fingers this time, you unravel completely. Your back curls, hips jolting. He follows your movement intently, not breaking contact as he pushes you through your orgasm. You squeeze in around his fingers as you come, moaning helplessly into the air. The sound of it turns him on, you know it. You can feel his grip tightening painfully into your thigh. That feral gaze he was regarding you with has sunken into darker, sheer want.  
He hums as you whimper, beg for him to top, and doesn’t stop massaging his tongue into your clit, not until you’re squirming from the over-sensitivity.
“Good girl,” He says finally, slurping up the last of you from your thighs, “Mm, you look so pretty right now.”
You know exactly how you look. The walls of the bedroom are glass, floor to ceiling, and in the dark you can see your undone expression reflecting over the cityscape and the night sky. Your hair is mussed, your face burning, chest heaving and enticingly pink.
Namjoon never pulls down the shades when he fucks you. You have half a mind to think he wants the entire city to see, to know that you’re his.
“Shut up,” You mumble, only because you know the pathetic tone of it makes him laugh.
He does, as he flips you onto your belly, crawling over you. He’s still fully dressed, trousers shoved haphazardly down his thighs as he pushes his thick, fat cock over your ass. He rolls his hips down, and his cock gliding over your slit in slippery strokes. It’s huge, the friction against your skin incredible. You feel an instinctive shock down your spine. The pleasure he’s fucked you into a hundred times before has been conditioned deep into your body.
“That’s not a nice thing to say, (Y/N),” He warns, whispering into the shell of your ear.
“I’m not nice,” You answer.
Namjoon doesn’t respond. He just fucks into you with a grunt, all at once, way too much. You gasp, filled to the hilt, feeling like he’s taking you open from the inside.
“You’re not a nice girl, hmm?” He echoes, thoughtfully, picking up a ruthless speed off the bat, hips smacking into your ass, fucking you into the bed. You can’t say a thing to it, just laying there and taking it like a rag doll. You can’t say a thing because he’s fucking your head empty, and all you can do is remember how to breathe, drool leaking out your mouth as you pant out an incoherent string of ah ah ah ah ah for him.
The first time you come on his cock, he’s got his fingers pressing down on your tongue, his mouth on your neck, his chest crushed against your back. He’s on you, around you, fucking into you, and you can’t help feeling like you’re drowning into him.
“Please, Namjoon,” You beg, voice hoarse, vision blurry, “It’s too much, I can’t take it—“
“You’re not a nice girl,” Namjoon repeats, hand around your neck as he fucks into you, so hard and so impossibly large still, “But will you be good for me?”
You nod, frantic, something electric swell inside of you again, drawing closer each time he fucks into you.
“Can’t hear you, pet,” He says, between grunts.
“Be good for you,” You promise, voice cracking with a moan each time he drives mercilessly into your spot, “I’ll be, real good, I swear.”
And he stops, just long enough to angle your hips into the air, so that he can take a good look at you. You whine instinctively, so close to completion, and edge your ass onto his cock.
“Fuck, you are so, fucking, sexy,” he whispers, and as soon as you look back at him, allowing him to see the tears welling in your eyes, the way you had bitten your own lips until they were swollen and red, Namjoon completely loses it.
You can feel his belt crushing into your thigh as he fucks into you again, from deep to deeper, pace brutal. It doesn’t take a second and you’re coming again, squeezing tight around him, screaming and whimpering from the pain and pleasure of it. There are stars clouding your vision, and you can hardly hold yourself up. But Namjoon doesn’t care to stop, just fucks you harder still, the only thing keeping you in place his bruising grip on your hips.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby, like a dream,” He says, wrapping one hand under your belly, pulling you up so that you’re curved back into him. He takes one hand to your cheek, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss onto you as he pushes a hand under your bra, pinching your nipples.  “Come for me again, baby, yeah? Let me see you come on my cock, baby.”
He doesn’t have to ask. The moment he dips his hand down, rubbing into your clit as he fucks you, you jerk right into him, coming so hard that you black out for a second. He catches you easily, but now he’s lost his rhythm, his thrusts rough and feral and furious. So deep that each one feels like he’s hammering straight into your core.
When Namjoon comes, finally, cock swollen and unbearably hard, hips slamming and stuttering, he bites into the nape of your neck.
It’s not one of those cute bites. It’s teeth on skin, it’s Namjoon marking you up.
It’ll hurt when you wake up, you think. But for now you’re too out of it to feel anything, just the warmth between your legs and the cold, hard edges of Namjoon’s rings digging into your shoulders. His lips are soft and wet against you. He stays inside of you for a moment. For the first time you realize how out of breath he is. How you might be the only person to hear him like this, completely wrecked.
He kisses the shell of your ear and rests you gently onto his arm, adjusting you until he knows you’re comfortable.
“What a good girl,” He says, kissing all over you, at your dried out tears, at your brows, the top of your head. Like this, he seems so kind. And maybe he really is, at least for now.
You curl up against him. “Only for you.”
Namjoon hums, low in his throat. His fingers card lazily through your hair, then trace over your cheek. “Did I hurt you?”
When you don’t answer, he moves his arm from under your neck and begins kissing down your arms, your belly, carefully, almost as if in apology. He nuzzles his face between your thighs. This time it’s different. He’s not demanding, not anymore. Nose buried inside of you, he licks you up where you’re swollen and sensitive, each twirl of his tongue sending shocks down your spine.
He only pulls away when you’re spanking clean, and he sucks a tidy line down your thigh, tender bruises and bites. Making sure whoever comes next knows that you’ve got an owner.
You close your eyes momentarily, allowing yourself to drift into the burn of his breath on your skin. Maybe this is his way of caring.
It’s not long before Namjoon’s weight shifts away.
“You’re leaving?” You ask, groggy, as he pulls off the bed.
Now that he’s up, he’s back to being Kim Namjoon. The warmth has faded from his face. He moves briskly. Fixing his cufflinks, his watch, tucking his shirt in as he zips up his pants.
“Hmm?” You swing your feet into the air, toeing playfully at his leg.
Namjoon spares you a smile. A small, exhausted smile. It almost looks genuine, as genuine as a man of his repute can be. “Work, pet.”
You pout, knowing how appealing you are to him with your ass bared and his come pooling between your legs, “Make it wait.”
“I want to, believe me,” Namjoon says, smoothing out the wrinkles in his vest. “Next time. I’ve got a flight crew waiting.”
“Flight crew? I’m expecting souvenirs then,” You perk up, cheeky.
Namjoon grins indulgently, head tilted to take the sight of you in.
You’ve got him. You know. He might be a hard man to read, to own, but you’re no amateur.
“Anything you’d like. But be good.”
“Nah. Not my nature,” You drawl, flipping onto your back.
“You drive me fucking crazy, pet,” He says, not unkindly. He kneels by the edge of the bed to press one last kiss to your ankle before he tears himself away.
From the living room, he reminds you, “Don’t ever forget who you belong to, (Y/N).”
Then he’s gone, just like that.
You wait out the silence, fighting off sleep until you can hear his footsteps disappearing out the corridor. There’s the distant ding of the elevator, the robotic chime of ground floor.
And then you dig the wire out from under the nightstand.
Seokjin’s voice is already crowding the comm, cutting efficiently through the static, “All units to cross-check private landing pads within 250 kilometers of Hannam area. Target en route. Destination likely overseas. All you lazy fuckers listen up, push your coordinates in fifteen or I’m listing your asses for rotation.”
Minutes later, after the activity in the comm has died down, your phone pings from the kitchen counter. You roll off the bed, wincing when your feet hit the ground. The aftermath of what Namjoon’s done finally starts taking its toll.
The first time he fucked you, he tore you badly enough for stitches. You thought he’d just leave you there at the hospital. But he came to visit you, cared for you, and did not lay a finger on you. Not until you recovered. Since then, he’s been stretching you open, gradually working you to fit his shape.
But that doesn’t mean that you don’t still ache from the inside out, every time he’s done with you.
By the time you finally manage to fumble your way over, the screen is lit with a notification.
“Accept wire-transfer from Kim Namjoon? 100,000,000₩”
And a text message: “Be good.”
You text back. “If I say no, will you punish me?”
When Namjoon responds, you can imagine the endeared smile on his face, “I dare you.”
You grin. How hasty. How out of character, for Kim Namjoon. The man might be the godfather of Korea’s underbelly, but he’s easier than he seems.
“Punishment costs extra.”
647 notes · View notes
minniepetals · 5 months ago
Text
cry me a river | the void
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— summary: no matter how many times you read the same book over and over again, it always ends the same
— pairing: bts x reader
— genre: angst, mafia!au
— word count: 6.5k
— warnings: violence
— a/n: all hail for our queen :)
— part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8
— masterpost
The doors to the meeting hall slam open as you walk right in with a grave expression resting on your face. With a black leathered trench coat, red lipstick, and red high heels that click like firecrackers with each step you take, heads turn your way as they make way for the daughter of the Reaper to walk past. Your hair wets from the pouring rain just outside, dripping down your coat and onto the dark red carpeted floor yet you pay it no mind.
Mingyu is just a few steps behind you, his eyes darker and grimmer than most days and the eyes of every member that belongs to the Reapers fall with confusion. Their brows furrow deeply as they watch their lady take the stage in the dark, crowded room, wondering why you’ve gathered everyone here for an important meeting.
Your second in command stands with the crowd, watching as you take a good look at the seat before you. Mingyu knows what goes on in your mind as you stare at something that belongs to your father, but before anyone can grow suspicious upon your lingering gaze, you turn around to address the crowd.
“I have grave news,” you say with a face void of any emotions.
They try to read you, the members’ brows knitting so tight while the employees look amongst each other, whispering words upon theories of what news you can possibly have for all of the Reapers to hear at once. This doesn’t happen often after all. No one would call every member of a mafia along with their servants unless the news was so grave.
But that could only mean one thing.
“Father has been assassinated.”
The room goes into an uproar and everyone begins to speak up at once. Many of them are in disbelief, their expressions hardening, eyes widening, while a few maidens even fill with tears as they clasp a hand upon their lips, the news far too much for them to take.
He never treated you well enough for you to hold that expression, you scoff to yourself but decide to ignore them while Mingyu stands there in the front, standing out due to his indifference to the news. His expression is blunt and when you cast him a glance, your second in command gives you a simple shrug.
“How dare they?!”
“Are you sure boss has been assassinated?”
“I saw his dying face with my very own eyes,” you tell them and the room explodes with anger.
They all express their displeasure, the audacity of this person who decided to go after their big boss, some even go on to take their weapons out, ready to make a move for their revenge plan yet you stop them before they can walk out.
“You know better than anyone to run out there without a plan.” The coldness in your voice stops them in their tracks and once more, they turn their attention back on you, the heir to the throne, the only family member left, daughter of the Reaper.
“Milady, did you witness the person who did this to boss?” One asks.
“Do you think me of incompetence?” You raise a brow and he knows that wasn’t right of him to ask.
Someone else speaks up without taking note of your unamused expression. “Then we have to go after him!”
“It’s a good thing you came back unscathed.”
“Sir Mingyu must have helped her return well.” You look at Mingyu who wields no expression. He’s usually a man who speaks up during grave moments so they must be really confused by this. Still, the idea of your dead father is their top priority as they return to the topic at hand.
“But who would dare kill the Reaper?”
“Who would dare…” You repeat the words slowly and carefully, feet turning to the side as you lay a finger on the throne you had been standing beside. It’s always been your place to stand beside the throne, the very same seat your father sits in, but those days are over. “Why…” slowly running your fingers at the arm of the throne, you tilt your head over at them with a smirk curling along the corner of your lips, “me of course.”
When you take a seat right upon the throne, the only doors leading outside the room slams shut along with the windows and curtains as each of your very own loyal members, dressed in wholly black, stands before every exit, blocking the paths.
The room runs cold in an instant as everything turns dark, saved by the light shining on you.
Heads turn back your way, bodies freezing in place, eyes widening. The trembling begins and you let out a laugh that echoes loudly into the room. Fear creeps down their spines and someone brave enough who had their gun already in their hand holds it up and points it straight at you.
In an instant, a bullet runs straight through his head, a bullet you know that was held by a particular sniper, hidden on high grounds, laying on her front with eyes peeking right into the scope. Dasom makes the first kill and when the men’s body falls to the floor, chaos ensues.
The rain pours loud and hard outside, its storm cold and icy as the room warms from all the bodies that runs at each other, hoping to kill one another. Your father’s people are strong as they always have been but they could not have been prepared for what you had in store for each one of them.
The servants are defenseless and so they’re the first to fall to the floor.
You were really hoping to sit this one out after having finished the most important kill of the night but apparently, your father’s loyal members aren’t one to let you off that easily.
“Hells,” you say with a heavy sigh. You stand from the throne, a bored expression plastered on your face when someone comes at you with a knife, far too incompetent and weak against you. She’s quick to be eliminated by your own hands with a bullet shot straight up from her chin.
“Oh great, now my hands are dirty.” You stare at your hands with contempt when someone hands you a handkerchief.
“My lady,” she says, her voice generous while the room ensues in mass murder. When you look over at your first loyal companion who holds a black satin blindfold over the eyes she’s lost years ago for you, you consider accepting her offer for a second, before refusing it completely.
“There’s no point when the room’s already bathing in blood.” The second you say that, her ear twitches and in just a split second, she has the person who had been hoping to hurt you by the throat, throwing him right onto the floor and a bullet straight through his head. Even with blind eyes, Yuna protects you well.
She turns to you after it’s over with, frowning deeply. “How dare they,” she growls protectively. “Are you alright, my lady?”
You turn from her, unfazed by what she had just done. “Take care of the rest,” you order, and with a small bow your way, Yuna disappears from your side.
The red heels click under you when you walk down the dais to deal with the people who have yet to fall, too stubborn for their own good to die without a good fight.
“Your efforts are pointless,” you speak at a man who holds onto the pain of his stomach. For a moment he was hunched over, barely able to keep standing on his feet, but the second he hears your voice, the strength in him returns.
He launches himself at you with a dagger and an annoyingly loud roar. You, on the other hand, is the calm face of Death, the dark leather at your shoulders that leaves a trail of blood. He flings himself hopelessly and you twist his arm, puncturing the blade of his dagger back on him and stabbing it right into the pain he received from one of your men.
He falls to the floor with a thud, meeting his fate for ever daring to go up against you.
The rain screams loud in place of the void of your emotions as you handle each member who comes at you with ease. They scream and shout, threatening to kill you, crying and spitting at your face for killing their boss, yet you remain calm amongst the chaos.
When the last person falls onto their knees and you kick them hard in the face, forcing them to fly back and hit the floor harshly, peace returns to the room now filled with dead corpses.
Black cloaks emerge from the shadows, their eyes trained solely on you as you turn from the last body, heels walking straight without a care about stepping on the corpses. When you walk up on the dais, you take one long glance at the throne before you and, surprising to the group behind you, you knock the throne down with a hard kick, causing it to fall to the side with a loud thud.
The sound echoes for a moment before all is silent once more. You turn to your people and sit yourself right on the floor of the dais, a hand resting on a bent knee while you lean your weight against the other arm just a few inches behind and let your head stare up at the ceiling.
What a waste of energy.
Hands spilled with blood, you wipe it against your cheek at the small cut you got from one of your father’s men, a bored expression resting on your face as you stare at your bloody hand. More blood will spill tonight but for now, you meet the eyes that have been trained on you with a dark gaze and in seconds, they fall to their knees, head bowed respectively.
A moment of silence for the queen, the room filthy with blood, and you give your first order as the Reaper.
“Burn this place down.”
.
.
.
“You wanted to see me?” You ask, voice a bit light as you cross a leg over the other as if the tension in this room isn’t clear enough for you. But it’s clear, it’s so clear.
After all, you’re finally meeting your ex-husband after ten years of disappearing from the face of the Earth.
He wears a grim expression, brows furrowed as he stares straight at you from the other side of the table, and you almost want to laugh at how he never seems to change. Always so serious and grim-looking. You used to be so intimidated by that gaze once upon a time but now? Now nothing terrifies you anymore.
You feel nothing, devoid of emotions even as you sit right before someone you’ve loved so hard once upon a time.
Ten years is quite long after all.
“Do you not have anything to say?” Namjoon asks as if that was the obvious thing for you to do.
Yet you remain nonchalant. “I killed my father, you witnessed that, end of the story. What’s there for me to say? I am the rightful heir to the throne as the Reaper and you have no say in that.”
“As ally of your father, I do in fact have some say in that. Our contract states I lend some power to your father, after all.”
“Correction, our contract states you lend some power to the Reaper,” you say with a small smirk as you take the paper out and place it on top of the table, “not my father. And since I’m the Reaper now, I have full right to all that my father owns, including some of your power.”
Narrowing his gaze suspiciously your way, Namjoon leans back into his chair. “Is that what you’re after?” He asks. “Power?”
“Power’s quite delicious now that I’ve gotten some taste of it. I think I quite like it and would like to pursue it some more. You’d be a great help with that.” When he stares daggers at you, you shrug lightly as you look away. “Though of course, Mr. Kim has all the right to refuse.”
“Why?”
“Why power?”
“No,” he states. “Why did you kill your father? You’ve been living under his protection all your life and now come ten years later, you kill the one person who raised you and protected you.”
Hm. What painful words — or so you’d say if you were that weak-hearted girl you once were. But you’re not anymore and anything that comes out of Kim Namjoon’s mouth doesn’t phase you anymore.
He never found out the truth but he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t deserve the truth. You no longer tremble under his gaze, no longer hesitate, and no longer falter. He made you weak.
Father was right about one thing, love made you weak and now you’re over it.
Still, you give him a small, easy-going smile. “Ungrateful, aren’t I?” You laugh. “If I told you I got bored of him, would you believe me?”
He gives you a long, narrowing gaze that lasts for a few moments. Namjoon can’t read you as easily as he did ten years ago, he can no longer tell what’s going on in that head of yours, no longer able to understand what answers your eyes hold.
Because your eyes only lie now.
Finally, he gives up and leans back into his chair once more. “I cannot lend you my power.”
“You’re breaking the contract, Mr. Kim.”
“You broke it first by meeting with me again.”
“Actually, you met with me,” you correct, memories of your fateful meeting flashing in your head. “You were the one who decided to be the curious little cat and dug your nose into someone else’s business. No one told you to run up the skyscraper when you heard the gunshots, you should have just enjoyed the party like everyone else there. And you were also the one who sent me that letter, asking to meet. Family kills each other everywhere in this world. Who cares that my father died?”
Namjoon frowns at you. “Many of his allies.”
A smirk plays at your lips. “Actually, many of them betrayed him for me long before his assassination. They saw my potential and father was getting old. No one likes to follow a crippling leader. The others who didn’t like me tried to stop me and that was quite strenuous to deal with, let me tell you,” you say with an exasperated sigh before grinning again. “But we’re on good terms now, they decided not to give me another headache. Speaking of that, sorry I came a little late to our meeting. One of them almost gave me a migraine so I had to take care of that first.”
He’s disgusted by you, but you had everything planned out, he realizes, all the way up to the very day you eliminated your father. “So you decided to leave me out of this whole coup?” He asks, knowing you met up with all of the people your father had connection with except him.
“I had a contract to consider,” you say simply, noting at the fact that the two of you couldn’t meet. “I am a woman of my words, Mr. Kim, I’d hate to go ahead and break my promises, especially when I’ve given my words to someone.”
The knowing gaze you give him leaves him conflicted as he knows exactly what you mean behind those words of yours.
What a cunning woman you’ve become, someone entirely different from the person he last saw ten years ago. He can still remember that face of yours, filled with tears, pleading, and begging. It was almost pitiful. He drove you away and now here you are, ten years later, a totally different woman.
What did those ten years do to you?
He shakes the thoughts away, knowing that caring now wouldn’t change anything.
He doesn’t care.
“I lent your father some power because he had something to give me in return,” Namjoon says, returning to the main subject. “I have no idea what sort of leader you will be, I’d be a fool to trust someone I don’t know.”
That’s right, he doesn’t know you. Not this person you’ve become.
“I had an inkling you’d say that, that’s why I have a proposition for you.” You lean onto the table, elbows resting against it with fingers intertwined into one another as you prop your chin up against them.
Namjoon narrows his gaze and you go on.
“You’ve been looking for your lost brother, haven’t you? Mr. Kim Jungwon?” His brows furrow tightly and you can see his chin protruding. He’s angry yet you go on without fear. “I know him and I have some information that may help lead you to a better investigation.” He eyes you with hard suspicion while you remain nonchalant. “Come on, Kim, I know you’ve been stuck on his disappearance even before the two of us fell into an arranged marriage.”
“...How do you know him?”
“Why, he was my butler,” you say with a playful smile, “and a very good butler at that. Mr. Jungwon took care of me very well.”
Suspicion doesn’t leave his gaze. “Why would my brother disappear to work under the Reapers?”
“Why indeed.” You stand from your seat, giving him a pointed gaze as you slide the contract towards him. “Consider it, will you? Before you refuse me completely?”
Obviously, this is all a hoax just to get him to agree to the contract. His older brother has been long gone, dead from the hands of your father who was too sick in his head and psychotic enough to kill the one person that cared for his only daughter. But you don’t have to tell him that just yet. You’d rather do this without meeting your ex-husband and ex-lovers but you’d be a fool to get rid of the reins on one of the most powerful mafioso in this world.
If Namjoon agrees to the contract, you get your shared deal and he gets an answer to where his brother is; dead and long gone. You just have to use him in the right way, like a pawn, just as your father and he used to do to you.
With that, you refuse him to let you take any closer look at you and turn your back on him. You can feel his piercing gaze on you when you walk away but still, you take no wasted time to look back.
You’re done looking back at the past.
.
.
.
“How’d it go?” Mingyu stands outside the door and the second you emerge, he rushes to begin walking right by your side.
“Do you still believe me to be that useless, incompetent girl I was then?” You ask him, sounding a little irritated. “Those days are over, Mingyu, you need not worry about that anymore.”
“Right,” he shrugs carefreely, already used to your mood swings. “So what happened?”
“I gave him the bait,” you say. “Once Mr. Kim gets a taste of the information I have, he’ll come crawling to me, begging for some more and once that happens, he’ll land right into my palm.”
“You know I’m kind of surprised, Boss.” You give him a small look and he continues. “For a moment I thought you’d falter and it’d ruin all our plans but you seem to compose yourself well.” Only Mingyu would be brave enough to speak up about such things before your face and normally it would upset you but with him, you don’t feel that offended.
That smirk on his face does make him look very punchable though.
“Are you sure you didn’t feel anything? Your heart didn’t skip a beat or two?” He asks, his tone playful almost as if he’s purposely trying to tick you off.
Yet you don’t take his bait.
“My heart stopped beating long ago.” You tell him, face as emotionless as it always was and Mingyu, for a moment, is about to speak up when you stop dead in your tracks.
Your second in command blinks when he feels another presence and when he turns to look over at the man who has you stopping for, the playful expression on his face falls.
Jung Hoseok stands right before the two of you, his presence protruding heavily with charisma and the only one he has eyes for is you, the new leader of the Reapers, and Mingyu’s presence disappears into the background as the two of you stare at one another as if stuck in moments in time.
Your heart stopped beating long ago, you told him, and for a second Mingyu wants to ask you whether that still applies to you before Jung Hoseok when he watches you carefully.
Yet he knows more than anyone that intervening now will only ruin things. The two of you have to return to headquarters during this busy time but he lets you be for now. After all, he remembers Jung Hoseok being that one person who didn’t betray your trust.
“I’ll be outside,” he tells you but he’s sure the words don't reach your ears. Still, Mingyu walks away from the poignant scene, knowing not to intrude.
Silence walks into the hallway once the footsteps disappear and for a while the two of you stand there in the stillest way possible, eyes never leaving each other’s gazes. You wonder what he’s thinking about, whether that promise he held within his heart still exists after all these years but you doubt it.
If the other guys were able to stop loving you, Hoseok would be all the same. Eventually, he probably got over you, went on with his life after the tears and anger, stopped thinking about you frequently, and acted as if your existence was simply just a passing of time. He probably doesn’t love you in the same way he had years ago but even if he still does, you’ve changed from the girl you once were.
Hoseok will probably hate the person you’ve become.
But why should you care? You don’t. You don’t care one bit.
None of it was his fault but still, still, a piece of you aches deeply inside as you stare at the last man who allowed you to hold onto hope. You’ve buried the little girl then deep from inside you and slowly, she’s beginning to creep forward and you know that this is all because of Jung Hoseok.
You hate this.
“Hi,” he says. A whisper. A soft, soft whisper you hadn’t heard in a long while. His eyes soften just slightly, his tone gentle, and you frown because you don’t like it.
“Hello,” you say, voice a little more strong, filled with less emotions. It’s blunt the way you speak, as if it’s simply a stranger right before you, and for a second you think you see a flash of hurt in his eyes.
But it disappears as quickly as it appeared, before you can truly believe you actually saw it right.
The silence fills once again and you hate this.
So many questions swarm in your head just as you’re sure he has them as well. He has to. After all, the girl he knew ten years ago is entirely different from the woman he sees now. You stand before him emitting a different energy, standing tall and confident, a gaze of boredom and bluntness, with no emotions exceeded out of you.
The you then held her heart on her sleeves, always willing to lend a gentle smile, a soft tone, eyes filled with innocence and purity as she constantly builds a wall before everyone, too scared and frightened to ever let anyone break it down.
The you now hold a much thicker wall, the secrets too overbearing and held so securely even a whisper wouldn’t be able to slip through. There are no cracks, no leaks to let anything out, just as you’re unwilling to let anything in. It builds all around you, above and below, refusing to let anything in and anything out.
The invisible wall carries herself well and you’re sure even Hoseok can sense that. He’s always been great at reading people but not great enough against you.
Even the you then presented herself well, holding onto her secrets, allowing no one in. No one understood her pains, no one knew. She smiled gently, gave her heart out, but still built a wall no one could step in. She was weak but she understood her assignment.
“How are you?” Hoseok asks and you remain silent for a moment, contemplating.
Should you choose to lie or tell the truth?
“I’m alright.” You lie.
It’s not anything new and Hoseok probably even understands that there are things you wish not to say, unanswered questions he wishes to ask you but knowing it isn’t in his place to do so. So he stays silent and you repeat his own question back at you, hating this silence.
“And you?”
“I’m alright.”
Whether that is the truth or a lie, you aren’t sure. Keeping tabs on Bangtan was never a priority in your agenda, in fact, you always strayed from doing so, so you have no idea what is going on with them and you’re fine with that. You just hate the fact that despite seeing you like this, so different from the girl you once were before you left them, Hoseok doesn’t flinch.
His eyes are similar to the ones you’ve seen years ago, the same sort of kindness he always had in them. He gives you no accusatory glare, no level of question passed onto you about what he saw that night and why you did what you did. Even if he had asked and you told him the same answer you gave Namjoon, a part of you feels as if Hoseok wouldn’t believe you as easily as Namjoon had.
And if he did, he wouldn’t look at you with disgust as Namjoon had.
You’re the first to look away, not wanting to bathe in this moment any longer.
It makes you uncomfortable knowing that little girl inside of you is slowly trying to creep back out. So you shut your heart, refuse to give into Hoseok’s eyes, and let the darkness return to its full capacity once more.
“If you’ll excuse me,” is all you say with a small nod made his way before walking past him without another glance.
You’re done, you’re done.
Hoseok won’t make you weak and you can’t falter now, not after everything you’ve gone through to be the person that you are now. Your story with them ended a long time ago, there’s no reason for you to return to the pages and read them all over again. Because no matter how many times you read the same book over and over again, it will always end the same. You cannot expect a different ending.
There’s no need to shed unwanted tears when you’ve already expected the outcome.
Yet as you walk on without the slightest hint of hesitation in your steps, Hoseok watches you silently from behind, a yearning left in him which he knows he cannot act upon, and even after you disappear around the corner, his gaze never leaves just as it always was.
But this time he lets you go. He doesn’t try to hold you back and doesn’t call after you.
.
.
.
“Boss looks pissed, what’d you do this time?” Dasom whispers as she watches you walk into the mansion with purpose in your feet and a scary expression resting on your face. No one has the guts to speak to you when you’re like this so she approaches your incomptetent second in command instead.
Mingyu gives her an offended glare. “How dare you?”
“Everyone knows you love pushing her buttons.”
“I just have guts unlike some people,” he says almost as if trying to irk you on purpose is something he should be proud of. Dasom levels a glare his way and he answers with a shrug. He crosses his arms against his chest as both their eyes follow your figure while standing still from the entrance way. “Wouldn’t anyone be pissed after a meeting with their ex-husband?” Mingyu asks.
“Hm.”
“And she may have also met with Jung Hoseok as well,” he says. “Though why would that piss her off? If anything, shouldn’t it have alleviated some anger?”
“Boss hates weaknesses.”
“So he triggered some memories she’d rather leave behind.”
“Shouldn’t you know that more than anyone?”
With that question asked, Mingyu let out a small chuckle as he begins to walk off. “Of course not. I don’t know her as well as little Yuna does. Speaking of, she’s probably already on her way to calm boss down.”
“It still surprises me how fearless Yuna is.” Another voice joins in on the conversation and the two of them turn to find the first hacker recruited into the team; Choi Yeonjun. He was once a small little boy with eyes as fierce as that of a wild stray who knew no master. Now he follows you well, eyes always bored and filled without emotions, just like his own master. He stands tall from where he emerged, eyes traveling down the hallway you walked through. Him and Yuna are one in the same, both loyal wolves whose eyes only live for you.
“Anyone else would just leave boss alone,” Yeonjun says.
“Well.” Mingyu shrugs as he begins walking away once more. “We all know boss has a soft spot for the little one, whether she wants to admit it or not.” He laughs. “That stubborn little thing.”
.
.
.
“My lady.”
You lay flat on your back, your feet still touching the floor as your legs bend in the knees from where you lay on your bed. Your arms lay straight by your side, hair flared all over, with eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling above.
The silence echoes on for a while as Yuna stands in the room, a bite on her lower lip as your brows furrow, wondering what could be on your mind. The steps in your feet sounded angry just moments before and now that you’re completely silent, telling her dead on just how pissed off you must be. You’re a silent angry type.
But at least you haven’t demanded her to leave.
So Yuna stays, waiting and waiting as she always does until you can speak again.
“Yuna.”
And when you do, she’s at your side in an instant.
You sit up from your bed, the covers dark with red, and let out a heavy sigh that’s filled with frustration. She doesn’t see anything, her eyes blinded with the blindfold wrapped around her head, but Yuna knows more than anyone the expression you have on your face.
You take a moment before another sigh escapes your lips, this time softer, shorter, and she knows you must have an annoyed, bored expression on you.
“Come here.”
You feel a dip in the bed and she feels your head resting silently on your shoulder.
No words fall from your lips after that, the silent completely engulfing the room. But no words are needed out of the two of you. Yuna doesn’t have to say a thing to comfort you, she doesn’t have to speak because she knows, she understands that her presence alone can help you relieve some stress.
And for that, the silence stretches on for the longest time until she hears your slow breathing, long and quiet, and knows that you’ve fallen asleep.
Even after she tucks you in, she remains by your side just as she’s always done. Your first ever loyal follower who never made an attempt to shatter your trust.
.
.
.
Eyes widening, brows arched upwards, and with a mouth slightly held agap, Namjoon stares at the paper before him with disbelief. That was before his hands began to tremble well with a tight knuckled grip and questions arose before the rest of them at the anger that flashes in the boss’s eyes.
“What is it?” Yoongi asks and the paper is handed to him forcibly. He reads the content, brows creasing with suspicion before passing it on to the rest of them to have a look. “A paper proof isn’t proof at all,” he says to Namjoon. “Anyone could have altered his face and faked an employment record.”
“Hand me the flash drive.” When it’s handed to him, he immediately plugs it into his computer and let the video play for itself.
There before their eyes, is video evidence of a security footage showcasing the very man Namjoon has been searching for his whole life. He looks as young as he did the last time Namjoon saw him, a face he knows he can never mistake with anyone else.
“Who’s that little girl?” Jungkook asks, eyes narrowing at the small figure beside Namjoon’s brother.
“That must be Y/N,” Seokjin says and they watch carefully at the repeated video footage, at the little girl who smiles so brightly, her hair short to your shoulders and holding onto a book as she speaks happily to the man dressed in a butler suit, smiling down at her with the same compassionate eyes Namjoon always remembered them to be.
“So she was telling the truth.”
“No, this could have been altered too. Taehyung, take a look at it.”
“Right.”
As the others talk amongst themselves, Hoseok stands there in the midst of it all, eyes unable to leave the sight of the little girl in the video. Such a small little thing, smiling sweetly, eyes as pure and innocent as they were when he had loved you then.
He remembers the eyes days before, that bored expression, emotions left unseen no matter how much he searched, hoping it was all just a dream and you weren’t just looking at him in such a light — or the lack thereof.
There was so much darkness in them, different from the girl he remembers, from the little girl in that video. You used to look at him like he was the sun, but now he’s just another insignificant person in your life meant to pass by and not stay forever. You held no feelings, nothing, and was even strong enough to kill a person close to you.
You killed someone and he’s sure you’ve killed some more.
What happened to you? What happened to that girl he once knew?
“Hoseok.”
He looks up to find six pairs of eyes staring straight at him, and Hoseok remains silent as he knows just what those eyes are asking him. His brows furrow but he suppresses his anger because of the conflicted position he’s been placed into once again, just as he was ten years ago.
Them, or you.
Yet the answer is always clear, always the same.
He cannot love you when you belong to the Reapers. He cannot betray his own kingdom for yours. He has to abandon his feelings for you, bury them alive, for it to never fester ever again. Ten years ago he lived a lie, numb to almost everything, yet he still loved the guys so he couldn’t completely hate them for what they had done.
Ten years later and you return to his life once more.
What are his feelings now? Does he still love you all the same?
No. It isn’t the same.
He still cares but it isn’t the same as it was then. This is different, almost as if seeing your first love once again and knowing how you felt in those moments you loved them. He cares, he cares, and he will always have love for you, but right now his feelings are confusing and Hoseok doesn’t know what to think.
He walks away from his position, towards the door, while knowing all too well of the eyes that follow him.
But for now Hoseok ignores them. Bangtan and the Reapers are enemies now, playing as allies in your own little game.
He doesn’t know what to think.
.
.
.
“Boss, I’m sorry I couldn’t—”
The door pushes wide open with stomping feet rushing right in, almost knocking the man off his feet but he keeps his balance, brows furrowing. Then one by one, your soldiers are instantly at your side with protective stances ready to lung at the intruding members.
Yuna at your left, Mingyu on your right, with Dasom frowning deeply as she loads her gun.
You hold a hand up and everyone halts at your command.
“Y/N.”
Laying on the side of the newly made throne meant just for you, you let out a deep, exasperated sigh at Namjoon’s call as you make the effort to move in order to sit correctly for the guests you now have to entertain.
Seven of them are right there before your eyes, glares leveling your way saved by Hoseok who simply has on an unreadable face, and your eyes glint with slight amusement.
“I assume you got my message?” You say with a leg folding over the other, an elbow resting on the arm of your throne, with your head leaning against a fist. “So then, Mr. Kim, are you here to take my head or come in the conditions of our alliance?”
What arrogance.
Mingyu revels in how you enjoy playing with the people who had cast you aside. A smirk tugs at his lips as he knows just how much fun you’re having creating an amusement park with all the people who were allied with your father, with you playing as the master of ceremonies and tugging at everyone’s heartstrings of weaknesses.
“You’re playing a dangerous game here.” Namjoon scowls your way yet you’re unfazed by his glare.
You used to be so scared of him, now everything’s just entertainment for you.
“Am I?” You ask, even laughing a little. “So then, what do you say? Would you like to play along in this little revenge game of mine?”
He’s silent for a moment but you know Namjoon didn’t come here barging into the Reapers house, knowing just how much he’s outnumbered, without an already made up decision ready for you.
He takes out a piece of paper and throws it towards you where it flies for a few seconds before falling onto the floor. You don’t have to look at it to know what his answer is and a smirk plays on your lips.
“There’s a party I’d love for all of you to attend, held in just a few weeks.”
Namjoon narrows his gaze. “A party? For what?”
“My debut,” you say. “No one outside some trusted allies knows of my existence because father hid me very well. It’s time the dark society knows that the Reaper died and his daughter has taken over the throne. It’s time they know who Y/N is.”
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hollyhomburg · 23 days ago
Text
Before I Leave You (Pt. 30)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: As Jimin and Taehyung’s date grows closer and closer, you’re confronted with one fact; you have nothing to wear.
Pairing: Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin, Beta! Yoongi, 
Tags: Fluff, detailed aftercare, collars, discussions of sexual bingeing, breif flashbacks to other bdsm scenes, bdsm dynamics, dom Jin, dom Namjoon, dom Yoongi, sub jk, sub m/c, subspace, dom space, mentioned dom drop, self esteem issues, calorie counting, implied relapse,  
W/c: 10.5k
A/n: this chapter is one that had to be split because it was getting closer and closer to 15k even before editing but! it’s very sweet and fluffy, after the cliffhanger that happened in chapter 28- i gathered that people really wanted to see the m/c wearing the collar for the first time and even though thats not exactly like…the most pertinent thing to the story, i felt it needed to be written~
Previous Chapter - Masterlist
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“You’re not going to make me put it on myself, are you?” 
It’s not surprising that the request grants you frustrated growls from your packmates, Jungkook lets out a small purr. Namjoon’s hands shake- but Jin’s guilty smile says that maybe you’ve all had a little too much excitement for today. 
Yoongi grins, dark eyes glimmering with heat, “You know exactly what to say to get Joonie riled up sweetheart” your mate comments, staring at you like you’ve just promised to end world hunger. 
But right now is not for more playing with your legs unsteady as they are shaking like a newborn fawn and your pupils wide and foretelling omega space. Jungkook’s already half-dropped and even Jin is looking a shade hazier than usual. 
The first time you put on the collar with any real meaning should be one that’s dedicated to you and only you, a time when everyone is fully prepared and capable of doming you to their fullest capabilities and- 
The itch persists, maybe there's no harm in just making sure that it fits, Jin had estimated your size after all. Namjoon shrugs going against his better judgment, trying not to send puppy eyes in Jin’s direction who would shut this down in seconds if the older omega thought that Namjoon was doing this for any ulterior motive.
 “Maybe we should? Just to make sure it fits right?”
Jin raises an eyebrow, but then after a second of feeling his own burning curiosity (he’s not sure he could handle waiting for any longer stretch of time, let alone a few days his excitement would surely betray him into asking you to try it on) he nods, Namjoon's eyes widen imperceptibly in surprise. 
Namjoon lifts your hair off your neck and Jin discards the box, it’s contence in his hands, wrapping the leash around one hand and lifting the collar to your throat. 
It feels…heavy, the way that the leather fits snug against your neck and rests against your collar bones with a strange pressure. You've never been one for necklaces and this isn't one- it doesn't feel the same, more complete. 
The bell bobs and tinkles softly as Namjoon fusses with the closure and you have a feeling that it will alert the whole pack to your every small movement. Jin fluffs the small bow, fiddling with the latch and bell to make sure everything sits just so. His hand gravitating towards the leash even if- it’s not playtime. This isn’t playtime but-
Namjoon’s not the only one who has trouble reigning in his instincts. Jin wants to start purring and has to bite back the start of one when the latch clicks closed. The tightness in his chest like a bubble waiting to burst, a fuzzy feeling gathering all the way along his chest, teeming. His heart thuds in his ears. 
Your breath hitches when Namjoon’s fingers hover on the back of your neck, so close to your scent glands and close to a scruff. You know your scent is fluffing out thick and sweet- so close that they all can probably smell how much you like it. 
Especially when Jin gives an experimental tug, making sure he can fit two fingers comfortably between your neck and the collar. Moving you ever so slightly, the bell jingles. Your mate bites his lip from the bed, in the confines of the covers, Jungkook gives up and truly starts to purr, rubbing his cheek against Yoongi's thigh. 
“How does it feel? Too tight? Can you breathe okay?”
“It feels…” your breath goes all jagged you don’t need to answer beyond a small whine that gets nudged from you by Namjoon’s hands in your hair, letting it down so that it falls over the back of the collar. He’s just making sure your hair won’t get snagged but- but then he tugs your hair a bit, guiding your head back against his shoulder, stroking down the column of your throat to better see you wearing their collar.
He looks at you- and he’s not Joonie- no- he’s your alpha when he looks at you like that, his hungry eyes devouring the sight of you made his. The collar hugging your throat is a physical reminder of Namjoon's responsibility. Liquid heat pools in your stomach when he looks at you like that, so distracting that you're worried you might start leaking slick. 
Maybe it is slick actually, your body preparing itself for such an alpha even if you know you'll be denied it today. 
"Do you want to- are you gonna- alpha I-" you stutter. 
Namjoon hums, already knowing what you want to say, what you want to beg. You think would beg- in another world where you felt more free with your wanting. Do you want to fuck me Joonie? Can I know what your knot feels like? Please alpha?
You want it, you want him and Namjoon knows what you're going to say before you say it. you need not beg for something he’s going to give you, he hushes you with a finger to your lips. Eyes shimmering with a heat like the sun over asphalt. His rich coffee fills behind you and you know you'll end up smelling like him with or without a scent mark. 
"Oh sweetheart,"
Jin tugs at it, lightly, playfully, and you’re spiraling, the wetness between your thighs and on your lips as you look back up at Joon- fuck- how does Jungkook survive having both of them so close like this? How does he choose who to focus on? Namjoon rubbing gently down your neck hips pressed to the small of your back or Jin? broad shoulders aching to protect you from the world's hurts in front, scent covering you like a blanket of sweet cream, your mouth waters, making your resounding whine all slurry.  
Jin’s fingers haven’t left their spot, and the inch of skin he touches feels hypersensitive, it only takes the press of his fingers against your throat to have your pulse throbbing for him.
He leans in, lips brushing your ear, tickled with his breath. His deep voice stirs something in your chest, something that aches to show its belly and let Jin and Namjoon do what they want with you, anything they want- you'll do.
“It looks even better than I pictured pup.”
And then Namjoon's sighing, letting the obvious arousal creep away. And Jin steps away with a small sad smile leaving your body feeling lonely. Namjoon's fingers creeping back up the back of your neck satisfied that you like it, that it fits, and that Jin likes it so- no reason to keep it on any longer only-
Only you let out a bereft whine before he can flip the latch (Namjoon and Jin had it designed for quick removal just in case something goes wrong during a scene, they’d gone with the same design for everyones starting collar) Namjoon’s fingers only brush the closure before you’re stepping away and out from in between the two of them, out of reach.
You teeter, both the pack omega and alpha looking down at you with a cautioning expression, 'you better not do that' written on all their faces, Jin's eyebrows pull together and Namjoon's raising in a challenge. 
 “Pup-” Jin cautions, and he watches the idea dawn on your face, but you’re already taking off dashing away with a giggle. Feet sliding across the smooth floor, bell jingling in time with your giggles as you run away from them. 
There is nothing that grabs an alpha quite by the balls than a chase, a hunt- his heart thudding in his chest- Namjoon’s honed in “oh no you don’t, come back here right now-“ 
The bell rings loudly as you dash, bobbing and showing where you are (as if you could ever escape the focus of their attention) Namjoon the cat and you the canary. You’re barely two feet into the hallway before Namjoon's hands settle around your waist, hands rucking up your shirt and settling on your rib cage, so large, encircling them. 
His barking laugh "got-cha!" His arms flex and lift you like you barely weigh more than a pillow as he heaves you up and over his shoulder. Dispensing a teasing pinch to your thigh that makes you yelp and then giggle as you squirm, trying in vain to escape him and he struggles to keep you from falling. 
Jinnie and Yoongi appear in the hallway, Jungkook pressed between them unwilling to be parted from Yoongi, worried frowns breaking into happy grins once they spot you squirming in the air. Namjoon deposits you in front of Jin, hands on your shoulders to keep you stationary.
Jin knows you're just testing the limits of what they will and won't allow- testing the limits of the collar and leash- it's cute, you'll learn eventually.  Whether you'll avoid a reddened bottom or two in your tutelage will remain to be seen. Jin's hands are already itching for it- another desire not to be sated. 
You bend under Jin’s stare quicker than Namjoon’s, all he has to do is raise his eyebrow at you and you're folding. “You know what we agreed to pup.” His fingers reach for the latch and undo it easily with one hand. Steady from years of practice.  
Your pout betrays you, “try on, not play.”
And well, Jin can't resist you, can't resist such a cute pup at all. He plants a heavy and lingering kiss on your brow hardly even angry, “Good pup.”
You’re already halfway to the bathroom, it’s easy to shuffle around the pups, Namjoon hearding you and kookie into the bathroom for some much-needed aftercare. Jungkook is loose-limbed and half-sleeping, Yoongi’s arm around his waist keeps him upright. He looks like he could fall asleep as Jin sleepily starts to undress him. 
You’ve already seen all of them nude, we’ll- all but Jinnie, and it’s surprisingly not scary or strange when they disrobe while Yoongi draws them a bath. Steam spiraling and mixing with their scents, bath time always makes their scent push out more- fresh- less stale. And Jungkook’s spirling happy happy honey. 
(Although- if you're wondering- It’s not surprising to you that Jin’s fairly large for an omega and almost exactly the same size as your mate, but you suppose you could never expect an omega like Jin to be average in any way including size.)
Any arousal he’s had has passed to the point where no one mentions the fact that Jinnie didn’t cum during the scene. Maybe he likes to handle that later, maybe it's something that they've negotiated before and without you. You can't imagine that anyone in the pack would ever leave their pack omega unsated.  
You’ll shower later before you sleep- but Jungkook is very amenable to some warm water to ease his aches right now. Limp body easily guided into the tub after taking a few minutes to select what bubble bath he wanted from the small cabinet under the sink, you’re not surprised that they had several different mild scents and colors for this explicit purpose. 
His collar and your collar are discarded in favor of protecting them from the moisture, sitting side by side a room away in the nest. (Jin will clean them meticulously later and put them back into their boxes, safe for the next time you use them.) But the memory of his dom's touch is only ever a finger away.
Jungkook relaxes easily back within the confines of Jin’s arms, spiraling down gently. Easily ferried into a smaller softer headspace by gentle hands running up and down his back, his shoulders, manipulating him easily into a comfortable position.
Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi are always extensive in their aftercare; to Yoongi it’s his favorite part of the scenes. The only time he’s truly allowed to care for the people he loves to the sweetest extents. (Maybe that’s why he’d loved having that pseudo d/s relationship with you in the beginning because it was like endless aftercare- endlessly being your person, your support- your everything.)
Maybe the truth is that Yoongi just loves being needed. even as he shifts away from Jungkook in the tub, the omega lets out a small needy whine. Yoongi keeps his body pressed up against the slowly warming porcelain, reaching out a hand to fluff Koo's mist puffy hair.
The purple bubble bath fizzes while the omega relaxes boneless against Jin’s chest, occasional little whimpers and hisses slipping through his teeth as his body learns to compromise to the soreness. They soak and the warm water does wonders to ease out his aches and pains both from the spanking and the near knotting that followed. He’ll need cream for his bruising bottom later.
You, Yoongi, and Namjoon sit on the bathroom floor on one of the thick nesting blankets that Namjoon brought you from the closet in the hall, laid out to make the floor a little more comfortable. You sit back against Namjoon’s chest the mirror image of Jungkook and Jin while Yoongi alternates between feeding you, Joonie, Jin, and Jungkook bits and pieces of chocolate and fruits. 
You try a bit of Jungkook’s keto snacks and shrivel your nose at the taste and he giggles. You resolve to make him some more of the chocolate peanut butter bites and look up other seizure-friendly desserts and snacks that at least taste twice as good as zucchini chips and pork rinds (yuck).
Your and Jungkook’s hands remain loosely bound on the side of the tub, his soapy grasp tangling with yours. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” he says, almost asking. Not that they could really reasonably fit you it’s a small tub, fitting two larger than usual omegas is already a stretch.  
It's regretful that the tub and bathroom upstairs won't be ready for a few more weeks. Yoongi might not have been able to resist showing you and them for the sake of aftercare if you said you wanted to join them. Yoongi still has to stain the vanities, finish the shelves in the closet room and-
Yoongi's distracted from his endless mental list by your cuteness, the way your cheeks round when you smile at kookie. Leaning forward to nuzzle into your tangled hands, getting a bubble on your chin. “It’s okay kookie, I’ll go later with Yoongi after you’re feeling better.”
Your mate makes a small pleased noise in his throat, wiping the bubbles away with a finger. The glance that Namjoon and Jin send him is undeniably jealous- if only you knew how much Jinnie wanted this with you.
Other people call it grooming, and Jin doesn’t like that word because of its other connotations but there isn’t honestly any better one. The way that omegas in the same pack often fluff and nurture each other's bodies, like a pair of love birds preening- or in your case, a trio.  
That’s half the fun of being in a pack with multiple omegas- there isn’t a thing that Jin and Jungkook don’t like better than pampering their bodies and nesting within themselves before they move on to the main event. Grooming is self-care to the extreme. 
Every few months usually just before his heat, an itch settles down Jin's spine and he needs to make sure all his pups are freshly fluffed. And Jin will take a blow-drier and a towel to each of his packmate's hair after a shared shower and get their bodies all massaged out with lotion and body oil and their faces patted down with only the finest creams.
It takes hours for Jinnie to do it to all of them but it’s always worth it especially considering the sheer number of kisses he gets in return. Jin wonders sometimes- if there is a single inch of his skin that hasn't been kissed, it's unlikely.
Grooming instincts are more common in pack omegas than others, but Jungkook still likes it just as much as Jin does, making sure everyone smells nice and clean and happy. Covering the alpha's faces with kisses until their scents smell stronger than usual. 
Happy, you all smell so happy right now, Jungkook closes his eyes and just breathes letting it cool his lungs releasing a tightness there. Jin’s fingers tease down his sternum, touching him just to touch. Letting out a sleepy "love you hyung," fingers, someone's fingers tease along his cheek.   
 You fiddle with Namjoon’s hands, testing to see how large they are compared to yours. The pack alpha tugs on your pinky, equally as happy to have you in his arms during aftercare. 
You don’t know yet that Namjoon needs this too- that aftercare is as important for doms as it is for subs but you’ll learn. Namjoon and Jin and Yoongi are going to teach you absolutely everything about this; including the fact that Namjoon needs his submissives in his arms after scenes, needs to feel them and make sure they’re safe. Needs to know that he did a good thing and not a bad thing- that sating his instincts doesn’t make him anything like a monster- that it was equally as wanted- no- that word is far from his mind when he touches you.
And Namjoon that Yoongi would never let a monster touch his mate.  
the bathroom isn’t large enough for namjoon or yoongi to streach their legs out fully, but namjoon’s feet press against the beta’s thigh. and when yoongi smiles at him Namjoon feels as far away from Dom drop as he's ever been. 
For all their teasing Yoongi's eyes on him and you is nothing but reassuring, Yoongi's continual soft smile tells namjoon that even now, he's doing a good job with you. Yoongi picks up your feet and places them in his lap, rubbing down your ankles. 
Namjoon's hands settle over yours, long fingers testing at yours like a musician might tease at keys on a piano, pressing against your thumb and then your ring finger.   
Your scent shifts and Namjoon notices immediately, hands going tight on yours. He knows you’re going to ask something heavy before you do before the words are even forming on your lips. “Why… never mind” you stop yourself before you make it awkward, but you still cast a glance in the direction of the door.
Namjoon directs your chin with his palm to look at him and not at your legs tangled with his (his sweatpants are comfy, the perfect mix of rough and soft against your bare thighs.) “ You can ask us anything pup,”
“Why didn’t you let me wear the collar, was it bad that I didn’t want to take it off?” you’re worried- not that Namjoon’s reaction wasn’t anything but playful but still. There's still so much you don’t know so many details to all of this that you are unaware of, you can’t help but worry if you’ve tread over some imaginary line.
Yoongi’s chest warms when he realizes that you’ve finally gotten to the point where you’re comfortable enough to ask the pack about something that's bothering you rather than stew in your anxiety until you can ask him about it privately. Another sign that you're starting to trust them. He just about shoves a cut piece of peach in your direction, scooting across the bathroom floor to feed it to you. You take it, your lips on his fingers are soft and curious.  
Jin sighs, sponging down Jungkook’s arm leaving a trail of lilac-colored bubbles finally washing the pup instead of just letting him sit in the warm water. Yoongi continues to feed you fruit, you're distracted enough that you allow it without trying to dodge the food. “There is this thing- called bingeing, that people do when they first get into this lifestyle.”
Yoongi nods, wiping a bit of peach juice from your lips after a particularly messy bite, “some people try everything too fast and all at once without ever giving themselves time to decide what they like- it’s like- chasing serotonin and the high of the scene, not letting yourself come out and just crashing days after in sub drop.”
You certainly know what they're talking about, even if you weren't domed directly today you feel light like nothing can touch you as long as you stay in Namjoon's arms. As if he can feel it to the pack alphas arms settle more firmly around your waist, Chin leaning on your shoulder. 
Jungkook gives a small pained grin, eyes swimming in the reflection of the bubbles swirling below him, he’s bobbing in and out of omegaspace, Namjoon and Jin will want him to drop truly before long. but the memories take him out of it momentarily. 
“Jiminie and I- when he first became my dom, we like tore through my kink’s list in just a little over a week.” His body rolls like he’s remembering the memory of how he’d gone from spanking to flogging to canning all in the span of a few days. He huffs a small guilty laugh, but it’s past shame and not current that colors his words sad, “Definitely do not recommend.”
Nothing felt like enough, not until he'd dropped and dropped bad. Tae and Jimin had done their best but it had taken him a few months to want to go back to it, in a more moderate way of course. He’d learned his limits and learned what decisions he could and could not make during a scene, and Jimin had learned what he could and couldn’t handle doing as a dom. 
Neither of them blames the other for falling into it so quickly and not knowing the path they were sending themselves on, but Jungkook thinks that maybe if you remember your mistakes you can avoid making them a second time. Submitting is intoxicating, there's a reason why consent needs to be beaten to the floor and then readdressed consistently.
You deserve the best side of us, I just want everything to be perfect for you- that's what Jin thinks as he watches you snuggle back into Namjoon’s chest, searching for comfort reacting to Jungkook's suddenly tense scent as he remembers the pains of the past. Easily washed away by a trail of bubbles, any unpleasant memories banished down the drain.
You fuss with the pack alphas shirt in a way that lets Jinnie know that you need to nest soon. If he’d only gotten you in the bath with Jungkook then it might have been easier to manage your needs as well as theirs. 
Nesting is only half of an omegas instincts, and Jin is going to spend tomorrow daydreaming about getting to groom you the way he’s doing to kookie right now, rubbing smooth circles onto his back with the soap, encouraging pleased gasps when he finds a knot of muscle. Pushing away Jungkook’s tensest memories with careful presses of his fingers.
You settle, combing through your thoughts and sorting through what you know and what you don't, their terms and their desires.  “What do you recommend then?”
“How about… scenes once a week? One thing at a time?” you’re not surprised that Yoongi’s the one who volunteered an idea first, but it’s agreed upon easily. It's enough time, maybe he’s just worried about giving you enough downtime between each new high- enough time to detox and develop other parts of your relationship first. 
Namjoon's deep hum reverberates in your chest. “Maybe then we can incorporate rules and stuff more gradually.”
You blush at the mention of rules, both in embarrassment and at the way you can feel Namjoon's every breath brushing your face, "You mean you have more?" you continue fiddling with Namjoon’s shirt, letting kookie’s hand go when it becomes clear that the omega is dozing against Jin’s throat, bobbing back down into omegaspace. 
“I thought we kinda already had,” you can’t meet Namjoon’s stare, nor Jin’s, or Yoongi’s- you're too nervous. “With like the food and stuff? I thought that was the only one you wanted to have with me.” Jungkook’s eyes crack open and Namjoon pecks a kiss down your neck to soothe you, his lips meeting the spot where the collar might lie.
Jin’s eyes are bright and possessive, treading carefully with his words, “we have, and you’ve been a very very good pup, good enough that I even say you might need a reward. but-” You gasp with the contact when Namjoon kisses your throat again, a needier movement, mouth hot against your skin, and Jin once again lament the fact that you can’t do more. 
Jin’s a tiny bit worried, what would your reaction be if you knew the extent of their rules. But just like with your anxiety- there isn’t a better time to address it "But yes, we would have more rules for you besides eating, mostly tame stuff,  jk do you wanna tell her some of yours.” you covered this with your conversation nearly two weeks ago but still, a refresher seems okay. 
The omega jumps at the chance, the water sloshing against the side of the tub with how quickly he sits up, "to be a good pup Koo's gotta-" Jungkook clears his throat, shaking himself slightly to knock himself out of omega space, "sorry- no negative self-talk, I've gotta being safe and like not run on the main roads when I wanna exercise, not drive- stuff like that, no lying to Jinnie and Namjoon, treating others with kindness," 
Jin kisses the back of kookies head, nose running through the wet strands with a happy purr, he's such an eager pup to obey his doms. 
"We've got a written-out list somewhere. Good Koo, do you want a kiss for a reward baby?" jungkook squirms happily and jin's glance slides to yoongi, staring pink-cheeked. "You gotta ask hyung nicely." 
Jungkook's breath hitches as he looks at Yoongi, shimmying a little and squirming under his gaze. "Kiss Koo? please?"
It's definitely good that they’d explicitly negotiated only one scene today. Namjoon’s practically drunk on your scent, puppy alpha brain making him nose through your hair, his mouth pecks once more, then again on your neck and scent gland before he leans back. You’ve melted, more in his lap than sitting in it, staring up at him with cute pink cheeks and damp skin from all the steam. All of your desires are made cloudy and thick when mixed with heady love.
You watch Yoongi and Jungkook kiss, your mate giving little flicks of his tongue that have Jungkook melting body sliding further into the tub making the water nearly slosh out. 
Namjoon leans forward rubbing his neck all over yours the same way a cat would rub against a hand scenting you fully; the pack alpha, scenting you.
you're dizzy with it and all you can smell is Namjoon's thick coffee. It's all that fills your head when you breathe, making you blink dumbly, heaving an unsteady breath. Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you when he pulls back from jungkook, the other omega leaning his cheek against the edge of the tub, both of their lips pink from the kiss. You let out a tiny tiny whimper.
It takes great effort for you to focus on Jin's next words, starting at you and namjoon with a smirk, “Well pup, what do you want? Assuming your good behavior keeps till next week?”
The temptation in his words has the power to jog you from your scenting induced haze and you squirm happily in namjoon lap, his arms loosely bound around your waist, “you mean? It’s up to me?” 
Joon’s growl is playful as he nudges your nose with his, “of course, it is,” Yoongi and Jin share a knowing look. Namjoon is always the cutest when he's feeling in love. His dimples are a damn near-permanent fixture, He tugs on a lock of your hair and your turn your head so that he can tug at it more. 
"Go on pup, tell alpha what you want."
"I can have anything? anything I want"
The sky's the limit says the twinkle in Namjoon's eyes, every single universe in existence ready and waiting to be handed over to your waiting palms. "Anything"
You shoot up in excitement almost banging your head into Namjoon's chin “I wanna try spanking! Or maybe the collar- or maybe a knot-” you feel Namjoon’s nervous laugh almost more than hear it as he strokes down your chin and your neck- you have a feeling that’s a favored spot of his. Warmth gets nudged to your cheeks from the other's laughter, ricocheting off the ceilings. “This is exactly what we wanted to avoid pup.”
You're chastised, cheeks pink as you reign in your excitement.  “Okay so, spanking, next week, that’s what we’ll do.”
I like it when you get a little bratty, mostly because it’s you telling us what you want, one day I’ll reward you for things like that pup, maybe rewards will be more helpful than punishments with you, Jinnie grins, already knowing he’s going to give you all three of your wishes, bingeing be damned. Spanking, a knot, and your collar is hardly more than Jungkook handled today. What could possibly go wrong? 
“Your wish is our command.”
Jungkook shares a sleepy, happy grin with Yoongi, your mate gulps, tamping down on his worry. It's Namjoon and Jin- the two people he trusts to the fullest extent, he has no reason for the tense discomfort lacing across his chest, none at all. 
 “One reward and one new rule a week- sounds perfect.”
~-~
The week passes surprisingly slowly, maybe it's just because you feel the tension building with every day and minute. Eating gets…well it doesn’t get easier But it’s nicer to remind yourself of the rewards outside of your body when it comes to food. Now every “good pup” feels a little different, and every time they touch you feels ladened with promises for more. Is it weird that you're looking forward to the spanking, even if it's supposed to be a punishment?
Namjoon makes sure to scent you each morning before he leaves for work, and all you have to do is smell the collar of your shirt to feel absolutely swaddled by the pack alphas' scent for the whole day. Yoongi catches you like that more than once, teasing only ever as far from his lips as words of praise for continuing not to backslide.
For so long food has been a place of punishment for you, and now it stands to give you something. You feel strange about that, excitement and anxiety warring each time someone sticks a plate in front of you. Sometimes, Namjoon will sit beside you, and set his hand on the back of your neck, for support or to distract you the effect is the same. 
Who needs a collar when you have his scent and his touch.
But there are other things to worry about, other things to stress over than the potential or otherwise scene that you might have (that you will have) as long as you don’t fall off the "all pups deserve at least 1000 calories a day bandwagon" before Sunday. 
That very real and very worrisome thing being your date with Jimin and Tae the night before. Are you biting off more than you can chew? Planning a sex scene with Namjoon and Jin barely 12 hours after you’re to go out with Jimin and Tae on your first solo date? Your first date in a long long time is drawing nearer and nearer by the second. 
Yoongi has never taken you on a date, and he raises his eyebrows at you when you comment that, sitting up quickly in the nest like he might be ready to jump up himself, "Do you want me to? Take you on dates? Is that something we should be doing?"
"No, but-" your wordless whines of frustration only take you so far.
It’s Wednesday before you look at your closet and realize, with Yoongi and Jungkook stretched out in your nest that shit- you don’t have a thing to wear. Not a single dress or skirt, not even a nice pair of pants or a shirt that’s not one of Yoongi’s or a pajama top.
Even your underthings remain lacking and warn, is that something Jimin and Tae are going to want from you? Is it not only the pack alphas' attention that will be focused on you come Saturday and Sunday?
Furthermore, what do you want? your thoughts remain as tangled as your nest, fussy and unsure. But that might be because Jungkook's finally merged his nesting things with yours so- it's hard to tell the exact source of your anxiety let alone if it's date-related or sex scene-related. 
It’s past time that Jungkook and Yoongi re-arrange their sleeping schedules to better benefit Jungkook’s seizures. You can feel the anxiety building in the pack, as it always does when the weeks tread on without interruption and they all know it’s only a matter of time before Jungkook has another seizure. 
This week, Jungkook's made the effort to combine your nests, not completely, just enough that he can sleep there one or two nights a week. 
Having Jungkook sleep with his nose pressed to your mate's scent gland isn’t a burden or an infringement on your privacy. Your nest is the most logical place- the pillows and blankets drenched in Yoongi’s scent are medicine to Jungkook and the only one that works. there won’t be anything more soothing for Jungkook’s brain and if this is what's necessary for him to remain safer a little longer then that's what will be given. 
two days ago, You expected to find your nest empty when you got out of the shower, intent on doing your usual evening ritual with the pack's conversation as background, but instead you found Jungkook perched on the end of your nest. A small pile of blankets and pillows at his feet- a polite nestmate always asks before they touch an omegas nest and Jungkook is no different.
He’s just talking with Yoongi while Hoseok ferries pillows back and forth between your two rooms and Jin brings Jungkook’s skincare routine, dotting different products on his cheeks that the omega spreads with a roll of his eyes, apparently too bratty today to think about doing his skincare routine. Jin comes through with a little bit of moisturizer. Putting a dot on your cheek playfully when you glance his way. 
“You know- we could update your routine too if you wanted.”
You shrug, drying your hair with a quick flip of the towel and leaving it mostly wet. Jungkook winces but doesn't say anything. The grooming thing has really been getting to Jin and him. Sooner or later- they’ll get you for a grooming day. Who knows- maybe the first rule Jin will impose on you would be a mandatory skincare routine.
Jungkook should probably start stocking up on face-masks, just incase.  
Jungkook’s toes play with the pile at his feet. “I didn’t want to start but- is it okay if I-” you put two and two together, the pile of pillows and his uneasy smile. “Oh! Yeah- you can.” Jungkook is an experienced nest maker, and swiftly incorporates all of his favorite things into your nest.
You watch on making small noises when jungkook moves particularly special things, like yoongi's second pillow and the big blue blanket, he never acts disappointed only steering clear of those objects waiting for your purrs when he gets the placement right. 
Jungkook’s nesting materials don’t just smell like him but like the others too, and it only takes a few sniffs for you to realize that the little bits of all of them in your nest smell heavenly, settling something in you that you hadn’t known needed to be settled. Like a slice of Jin’s nest in the other room, dripping with coffee cream and cinnamon vanilla goodness topped in the thickest stickiest caramel honey. 
Jungkook fluffs your big blue blanket and you fiddle with a pillow that smells like Hobi, getting it just perfect along the edge of your nest, just completing the ring around the edge that will keep you safe. Anyone who dares crosses the edge will know that the two of you have 4 alphas waiting to defend you, a knot in your chest unties, the right strings of the tangle pulled to let a little more break free. 
You can't help but sort of love how it smells, and the others aren't immune to it either, Hobi drops off the last of kookies things and raises his nose to sniff at it eagerly. But it's not like Jin and Jungkook's nest where he's allowed in, it's yours and that division feels more and more pertinent the more Hobi watches.
Jungkook fusses with your pillow clasped to his chest placing it just besides his own so that he can sleep between you and Yoongi and Hobi lingers, just a few seconds, just to watch before he leaves.
It's better to close the door on the three of you than get his heart hurt unintentionally or otherwise. He leans against it and watches Tae and Namjoon curled up in the other bed, both of them with a book apiece. bodies tangled together and minds left to wander. and he wonders why he feels inexplicably drawn to your nest more than Jin’s- the place where he curls up and feels safe every night, the place has never once taken for granted.
Years ago- Hobi was well used to omegas who didn’t want him to have anything to do with their nest and well- given your history, He's lucky that you didn't refuse any of Jungkook's nesting things that have his scent on them.
It makes sense, so why does Hobi still want it? Why is walking away from your and Jungkook’s nest so hard? Maybe it’s better that Hobi’s trying, but he’s a little lost in his feelings- when did trying not to be hurt by your presence become trying not to want it too much?
You like sleeping by Jungkook, the few times it’s happened before both purposeful and incidental. You learn he likes to sleep on his stomach with his arms brought in all close to his chest and pinned below him. Prone and vulnerable to an arm encircling his waist.
There is a certain beauty in his vulnerability, in Jungkook’s long hair falling over his forehead, lips that smack and pout in his sleep as if he's tasting the combined scent of you and Yoongi- your chocolate cake on the air.  
Yoongi’s long fingers pin an errant strand back behind his ear in the half-light before you sleep, “You’ve got cute freckles” You comment. Though Jungkook's eyes are already closed, he smiles dopily; awake enough to respond but not enough to reply.
Tonight is the second night in a row that Jungkook’s dragged himself into your room. You spent most of the day lounging around in the nest, unwilling to leave something so perfect- something so nearly perfect. It will be harder to disassemble the nest so you might as well get one or two uses out of it.  
It’s slightly less calming as you pace in front of your open closet, Jungkook whining for you from within its confines for you to just stop pacing and join them. You glare at your meager collection of clothes. hoping that something- that anything might have magically made its appearance to save you from the torment that all girls know; having nothing to wear
“You can always wear like…just a shirt? Minnie and Tae aren’t going to care, I promise you don't have to get dolled up unless you want to.” Jungkook speaks from personal experience.
But that's not enough, you're used to needing 3 hours to get ready for dates, you're used to makeup and designer clothing and teetering on heals that might break your ankle if you fall in them. You're used to scandalous dresses so small they might as well not be dresses at all and red lipstick that couldn't be kissed in fear of being smudged. 
You’re used to being a pretty accessory on dates and you’ve never known anything but that when it comes to them. and while you know your date won't be like that- it’s still your first instinct. 
You know enough about Jimin and Tae and how they like to love together to know that this date will be nothing like what you expect- but not knowing what to expect is making you almost as anxious. At least that roll- the roll of the accessory- you know how to play. how to be the prettiest of wallflowers; A rose with plucked thorns in preparation of being held and shown about.
Your anxiety grows and spirals. You can’t help to think back to Hobi, Jimin, and Taehyung's date and how they all looked so nice; cut from the same cloth;  3/4 of a matching set. Three pretty alphas that didn’t have to show off their strength or masculinity to be alphas, who showed their power in their camaraderie. Easily existing in each other's spaces with no posturing to be found, their closeness not made boring but made fond and comforting. 
They looked like they belonged together- and you can’t say the same thing when you look at yourself and then at Jungkook in the mirror, let alone with Jin.
 (You don't even know how you'd put your things in their nest- if you did with their nest what Jungkook did with yours. You have a feeling that even the smallest of things from you would look out of place in a nest so perfect). 
You know you won't look like you belong with Tae and Jimin- the prettiest two alphas that you've ever had the privilege of knowing. Tae, like some sort of old photograph, the edges of her warn with something like love and nostalgia. and Jimin who is all crisp edges and refined lines; someone who looks like they exist to be captured in a magazine. Plush lips that you've caught yourself looking at.
Does he want to kiss you more? He said he did weeks ago but he hasn't tried. Does he think you don't want to kiss him? Will your date offer you the opportunity for more kisses? 
Will Tae want to kiss you? Is that something she wants?
The nicest clothes you own right now are Namjoon’s pajamas which sit to one side of your shared closet hung in an organized little row. A small rainbow of pastels freshly laundered by the other omega in your bed. You've loved Namjoon's courting gifts so so much- but now, you can't help but wonder. You know he's not only buying you pajamas because he wants to keep you hidden away in this house but- 
But it's terribly easy to believe that, your self-esteem takes a dive. 
You whine, and Jungkook supplies something to ease your distressed scent, he beckons you closer with a hand, “ask Jinnie! I'm sure he’d know what to do,”
You just want to be enough for them, enough for them to like, enough for them to court openly. It hasn't escaped you that Namjoon is the only one who's been giving you courting presents. That there have been none from the other alphas.Hobi you kinda expected, but Tae and Minnie... an acidic feeling curls in your stomach, eating away at the good feelings of having Jungkook and Yoongi to cuddle. 
Yoongi strokes down Jungkook's back, his other hand itching for you- especially smelling so distressed. “Maybe we just need a shopping trip” Yoongi winces, realizing his mistake in the default assumption; going outside isn't any easier, will you suffer through one anxiety to alleviate the other? “Or you could always order things online.” 
“But they might not fit right and I might not get them in time and- I“
I just want to be pretty for Tae. 
An idea lights in your head; the two desires that you have, to be pretty for Tae and to be pretty with Tae meeting in the middle and blooming into an idea. You know better to expect that she’ll want to wear makeup on your date but…
Maybe this will work.
~-~
Every other Thursday is Tae’s half-day off; where the library fills with the city's politicians and concerned parents looking to resolve sidewalk issues and the next kindergarten watercolor budget.
Municipal access like that usually means that Tae's off by noon, eager to run home to the pack and to you with barely dried ink stains on her sleeves. Hopeful that she might get a day with you or at least a few extra minutes unencumbered by the presence of others and your secrets both joined and otherwise. 
Time is harder to barter for, since your sex scene over the weekend (that you'd gushed to Tae about during a makeup night the following evening) your time has been even harder to come by. Everytime that Tae has tried to seek you out one on one has been interrupted by Namjoon bringing another courting gift, a snack and praise from Jin or Yoongi, or a shouted inside joke from Hobi a room away-
And it's not that Tae doesn’t love falling in love with you with the pack it's just- there is a singular nature to love sometimes, Isn't there? Or had Tae only imagined it?
Today is a similar bust she'd been unable to tame your attention for long. Instead, she got to watch you flit back and forth from the couch with Jimin (who had an early shift and is home already for the day) and Jungkook (who will leave in another hour for his evening boxing classes) cuddle up together on the opposite side of the couch. 
Sooner or later, Tae will be offered some time with you uninterrupted, and it's not like time with Jungkookie or her soulmate is unwanted in any meaning of the word. It's not that Tae couldn’t cuddle them, she’s just not as invested in the reality tv show as they are, using it and Jungkook’s small squeals of protest or agreement with the characters on screen as background to scrawl in her journal (and spying at you over the top cover).  
Jimin keeps sending him glances too, not that Tae would notice, too busy watching you with a smile small and soft saved for only mini's soulmate.  "Are you sure you don't want help?" Tae occasionally calls to you, cleaning up the cocoa powder and another spill from your baking.  
"No, I'm almost done."
Is there a reason for your separation from Jungkook and Jimin? A certain poutiness from the other omega as he looks at you. Some tense conversation shared earlier about the food that Tae didn’t witness?
Or maybe it was Jimin’s confrontation.
He has a habit of picking up on things that others would rather not, but no one can fault Minnie. terribly perceptive Minnie who notices things that you don’t want him to that you aren’t ready to say. 
It didn’t escape him for one second that you’d cooked for Jungkook and only jungkook or that your hands had started to shake when you lifted the bag of his flour to look at the ingredients. Calculating out the calories in your notebook with increasing anxiety, your cakey scent turning all soggy the longer you looked at the flour and keto sugar in front of you.
(You don’t know that Jimin caught you earlier, your breakfast or what should have been your breakfast shoved to the bottom of the trash in the kitchen. uneaten. Jimin will keep your secrets for you, won’t bring it up to Jin unless you make a habit of it, will watch you later to make sure you eat close to enough).
Never mind that your anxiety was triggered by a single question from him; "You never bake for fun anymore, is there a reason for that?"
"None at all I just- I haven't been in the mood for it," you'd lied, you say it like they all don't know that baking is your favorite thing, the only thing that you can do when you're not non-verbal. Do they know that you're scared of it now? scared of finally being able to eat the things you make? Of being able to enjoy them? 
The things you bake are terribly hard to calorie count. 
But now, it’s finished, and more keto snacks for Jungkookie sit in a small little container on the counter so that he has something to eat between both his classes later with another larger batch in the fridge. The anxiety dripping from your shoulders like mist burning off after rain. 
It's easier to cook for you than it is to cook for me. I can bake for you kookie- but it's harder to bake for myself. Jungkook will miss dinner later and hopefully snack on leftovers when he gets home closer to 9. 
Your anxiety isn’t the only thing that lingers, creating space between the four of you. 
Tae wouldn’t say things have been exactly good between him and Minnie- an underlying tenseness to even the fondest of touches. The date with Hobi was a welcomed distraction but that’s what it was- a distraction. Taehyung hopes it won’t stick for long that the awkwardness will melt away with time and that Jimin will stop looking at him with so much behind his eyes, the mask falling askew however unintentionally. 
Hurt and fear, that’s what's really hidden behind his eyes- worry too. Jimin’s just worried but he doesn’t need to be, the problem with Tae isn’t one he can fix or one he’ll have to. Not if Taehyung has anything to say about it.
It's a toss-up whether the date with you on Saturday will make it better or worse.
Tae’s been unable to concentrate on her writing, too many things weighing on her mind and no easy avenue with words to dispel them. The small little journal that she scrawls in the companion to half a dozen other notebooks in the library room that are filled with similar lines of poetry.
Tae’s been unable to string more than a few words together, distracted by watching you while you work in the kitchen. Yoongi retreated up into the top floor of the house earlier and you follow a few minutes later. Jimin is unable to stop himself from playfully jabbing at you as you pass by with a tray of food for him. “Hang on, how come you get to see the upstairs while the rest of us don't?” 
You’d brushed her shoulders intentionally on the way past, a soft as a petal touch across Tae’s back, fingers tickling her long hair where it falls just across her nape.
“Because I'm not a nosey pup whose going to tell Jin.”
Jimin’s jaw ticks, but he huffs a laugh, “okay that’s fair- but at least give us a hint!”
"My lips are sealed."
But you linger, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. Glancing up at Tae one second and then looking away the next. “I have…a favor to ask of you Tae, are you free after?” 
Tae’s response is immediate and eager, “Anything. What do you need?”
“I’ve got to talk to Yoongi first,” you say cryptically and then you’re darting up the stairs. You stay up there for a good long while, with only the creek of footsteps above to alert them to your movements. 
With you out of the room and Tae's attention is finally focused and she  manages to get a little bit of work done, a few lines scrawled in neat little script.
‘I crave those hours where we are pressed to each other in our bareness, not quite skin to skin but soul to soul. all of your softness and all of my secrets without limit kisses too, find their number uncounted when I spend unhurried hours loving you.
and hours thinking of- if I could kiss you with more than my mind I would- if I could- if I could-”
Tae angrily scribbles the lines out, she tries to start again, her furious scrawling drawing attention from Jimin and Jungkook where they lie curled together on the other side of the couch, a concerned glance shared between them. 
‘Why did fate put freckles on your face? To give me road maps of where to kiss, here on your cheeks or there just below your lip or the ones-
the ones-���
Tae lets out a frustrated sigh, scratching through that line too. None of them are good enough, a tangle of images and feelings from each lover- but none of them are what she wants to say. Love poems have always been her strong suit but- this love poem is sitting unusually heavy on the end of her pencil.  
This love poem is supposed to be just for you, not a tangle of the others mixed with what she wants to say, the words that have been burning in her heart like it’s pumping molten gold whenever your hand meets her skin. 
When Tae writes it, she writes it extra small, like the words will matter less, will be smaller in feeling if they are made tiny. 
‘Maybe I'm not ready to write about this yet. I'm not ready for falling in love with you to be over, I’m not ready to be ready to muse on these months and moments with you. 
Is it bad that I love the fall so much that I’d sacrifice flying? That I love you so much that I can’t even say it- that the words get caught in my throat when you say my-’
“Tae?” she clamps her writing journal shut with a thump. Cramming even the pencil between the pages and setting it to the side so quickly she thinks she might just about throw it across the room. How did you sneak up on her?
The hard lines of the book are pressed between Tae’s thigh and the couch and your lips are pressed into a hard line, your scent a little wet, not quite a rain but not so happy protectiveness blooms in Tae's chest, what's wrong- what are you so nervous about- are you-
Something different about you. Your hair is brushed, and though you’re in a large button-down that’s more of a dress on you- there are leggings in place of your usual tiny shorts. Jungkook whines and screams, getting up, yelling at the tv and not at you, "no! I was rooting for you! don't kiss her!" the two of them have other love stories in mind.
You’re wearing socks- she’s seen you in all manner of fuzzy socks and slippers but never the plain black socks. You don’t usually wear them because honestly- you never leave the house.
Usually. 
You haven't gone truly non-verbal in weeks, not since the hospital, but you struggle to say the words, what you need and want staring down at your feet. So shy and so sweet and Tae is about to pull you onto the couch to get you snuggled down and in omega space before she sees you struggle like that. 
You haven’t truly dropped in a while- not since before her rut nearly a month ago, Tae thinks you might need it.
Your hands hold the edge of your shirt. “I want to-to“ you stumble, but they remember that this is as much for Tae's benefit as it is for yours. It’s surprisingly easy to do things for them, why is asking for things for yourself so difficult?
Jimin and Jungkook are in between episodes, and Jimin stops Netflix from advancing to the next one, so you’ve got not only Tae’s attention but theirs too.
Whatever Tae’s expecting it’s not what you say. 
“I Wanna go shopping. I need new clothes for our date but also just in general. Come with me?” You fiddle with the ends of your shirt- well, you're pretty sure it's Yoongi's or maybe a shirt of Hobi's that became Yoongi's and is now yours but- 
But you need the company, Yoongi would panic if you tried to go by yourself.  
He’s always worried about you getting triggered when you go outside- not that you’ve ever even tried to leave the house alone and never without Yoongi. Tae tells herself that’s the reason why she stands up so quick, why she’s suddenly ready to put her favorite thing to the side for you. The notebook sits on the couch- completely forgotten. “Of course, I’ll drive. Are you ready to go?”
Jimin is already shutting off the tv and making to get up too, Jungkook lets out a whine, going with Jimin wrapping his arms around the alphas neck to stay in his lap, “we’ll come too, I can drop Jungkook off at work and then come join you” you shift uneasily from foot to foot, darting forward to push Jimin back down on the couch, Jungkook lets out a little giggle, the alpha has no choice with Jungkook wrapped around him and your push than to let himself flop back against the sofa. “Hey!”
“no” you drag the syllable all out “it’s gotta be a surprise.”
Jimin pouts up at you imitating the set of your lips, “if it's supposed to be a surprise, why does Tae get to see and I don’t?”
You fold your hands behind your back, “Someone's got to help me pick out something to impress you alpha.”
Jungkook giggles, pressing his face into the skin of Jimin’s neck, warming with his blush. He’s teetering close to omega space or into it, someone will need to help him come out of it before work. Yes, Minnie is much more needed here, the only alpha home.
Tae watches on fondly, readying herself, tucking the button-down that she wore to work back into her slacks and getting her jacket. “Does Yoongi know?”
“Already told him,” You say as you busy yourself in the entryway, trying to decide which of the alphas coats to take. You settle on none of theirs- but a big one of Jungkook's that you call over to ask if it's okay to take, the omega smiles dopily up at you in response. It’s a big black windbreaker that will hide most of your form from view. It looks a little ridiculous and you have to roll your sleeves up several times to stick out your hands, but Tae doesn’t comment.
Tae looks back and sees his alpha smile, hiding it like a poorly kept secret on Jungkook’s shoulder. It’s strange- you don’t even know what you’re doing for them. That it would make such a possessive feeling and Jimin’s scent fluff up into the open air like that. He wonders if you can even smell it or if you're too nervous about going outside to think straight.
Both of them paired off, an omega a piece, Tae feels a little bit off about it, Not sure why. 
“Give me a second, I need to grab my wallet.” Jimin’s head picks up, always ready to practice his secondary love language of gift-giving.
“Why don’t you take mine, think of it as a courting gift from us,” he’s patting himse