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justoneday-namjoonii · 1 month

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It burns, doesn't it? [Pt.22]

genre: mafia!au, angst

warnings: mature, mafia activity, illegal business activity, non-explicit sexual/sensual content, toxic relationships, mentions of drugs, smoking, m*rder, language, and suggestive language, an attempt at a slow burn. If this content could potentially trigger you, please proceed with caution or do not proceed♥️

pairing: jungkook x reader x (yoongi)

authors note: It has been a long time, but I'm back☺︎ will come back to edit this later ! Please see my master list for previous parts <3

word count: 6k+

summary: The mafia tore your life apart, if it wasn’t for your will to live, it would have taken you out a long time ago. After everything, the heartbreak, betrayal and lies, you’ve emerged with a purpose—you’re apart of a family now. They won’t let you lay down and die—no matter how much you want to

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He was ripped from his sleep by the corrections officer who hated him the most. Couldn’t stand that attitude, that body full of ink and a grimace forever plastered on his boyish face.

“You have a meeting with your lawyer, get presentable,”

A few months ago, he would have shot back a snarky remark or maybe even stayed in bed. That rebellion simmered out not long ago, there’s not much fight left in him now. When he was let out, given a roommate, and left to socialize amongst the other inmates—he got into a bad fight. He took more damage than the other guy.

He found out that a notorious arms dealer was shot and killed. Word on the street is, it’s Jeon Jungkook’s fault.

Jungkook went into shock, numb. He got hit in the head so hard that he went unconscious. He would learn to be grateful for that state of unconsciousness. It was either that or erupting in a hysterical fit.

Now, sometimes he cries in his cell at night and sleeps all day. He never ate the provided meals before, but now, he at least picks at it. It’s evident in his just slightly hollowed cheeks, he’s lost some weight,

He simply nods at the grumpy officer and drags himself up and out. This is not a reality he ever prepared himself to experience, he took his family for granted. Namjoon was there, he would always be there, that’s what he thought. He did not want to grieve here, not in this hell—maybe it’s what he deserves.

The officers take him to shower alone while the other inmates are still locked down, he’s become a sort of target. For his safety, this is what has to be done. He gets dressed in the same dingy outfit and they take him to the room.

Junghyun shortly after.

“Jungkook, are you okay? You look,” He scans him over, “not good—like shit to be honest.” Jungkook only glances up briefly.

“They told me you were in an altercation and got beat up pretty bad,” He takes a seat, eyes scanning him over, “Are you okay?

“I’m fine,” He mumbles.

“Alright,” He sighs, “Mr. Choi will be in soon, he thinks you have a good chance of getting out.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook calls him by his affection title for the first time in years, eyes trained on the table, “Don’t do this.”

“I’m going to help you, whether you think you deserve it or not, you’re my brother,”

The silence pangs, and Jungkook doesn’t even look up.

“Look,” He rests a hand on Jungkook’s bruised knuckles, “I just want to get you out of here, okay? And maybe we can find Kim Y/n-“

“Sorry I’m a bit late, had a few documents to submit,” The lawyer walks in with a nice suit and slicked back hair, “it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon,”

“Likewise,” Jungkook replies in a dull tone.

“First, let me ask you a few questions,” The lawyer takes a seat, snatching a few papers out of his briefcase before setting it aside, “I know you have mafia affiliation but to what extent?”

“What do you mean?”

“Could we say that you’re associated or an active member? And if so, how long?”

“I-…I don’t want to do this,” He stands to his feet, cuffed hands pushing him away from the table.

“Jungkook,” Junghyun gives the lawyer an apologetic expression as he goes to whisper something in Jungkook’s ear, “what is going on with you? He has to know these things so he can build your case.”

“I don’t care about the fucking case,” He grits his teeth, “whatever deal you’re trying to make with me, it’s gonna screw me over in the end, and you both know it,”

“Excuse me, but Jeon has a call,” one of the administrative officials peeks in.

“From who?”

Both Jeon’s say in unison.

“He says he’s an uncle of yours.”

They look at one another, both their father was an only child and their mother had one sister. They don’t have an uncle.

≿━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━≾

3 months ago

His hands fell from your face, leaving your skin bare to the cool air, “I need to get back out there.”

He steps away from you, unlocking the bathroom stall door. You place your hand over his larger hand before he can fully open the door.

“You probably shouldn’t be seen with me like this…” You trail off, not wanting to further explain. You look at him with weary eyes, and the idea of someone seeing you two walk out of the bathroom together crosses your mind. “I’ll stay-“

“I don’t care who sees us,” He corrects you without hesitation, “let’s go.”

He walks out anyway, leading you out of the cramped stall. The states you get churn your insides. You force yourself to ignore the curious stares from the women inside. No one pays you any mind once you leave the restroom. If anything, they act like they don’t you.

When the hostess notices Yoongi approach with you by his side, she opens the doors with much haste.

“We got the last bid, I went 5 over but it was worth it,” Taehyung is the first to speak and he glances at you. Yoongi nods, ensuring he sits beside you despite your stiff body language.

The night went on and you remained quiet.

Feelings of regret crept their way into your mind. You proclaimed your love to a man before, who said he would die for you, the man you once lived for. But you’re not bound to him anymore, it’s hard to get used to. He abandoned you, he made you feel like a liar—he was insecure, and so were you.

The drive back home was painfully awkward. You rode back with Yoongi and the consequences of your actions started to eat you alive. He won’t even look at you, it just embarrasses you further, forcing you to perseverate.

"About earlier, in the bathroom," You begin, not prepared to say much more than that.

“It was just a kiss,” He speaks low, to keep this conversation from the driver, "don't look too deep into it."

“Ok…” You gaze out of the window, the engine and the occasional passing of streetlights distract you enough. ≿ ━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━≿

The house had fallen into a hush over the past few months, and security heightened significantly. More members were assigned as round-the-clock guards. They patrolled around with vigilant eyes, their fingers never far from the cold metal of their guns.

Yet, amid this fortress-like home, you found peace. The house staff have embraced you as if you were a long-lost member of the family. They treat you too well, providing clean linens like a hotel, and tasty meals, making you feel like royalty.

Ayeong has especially made this transition easy, she's the reason you're able to get up every morning and find purpose in something.

When you arrived at the estate, you grappled with a sense of loneliness and haunting thoughts. It was Ayeong's compassionate and motherly nature that extended a gentle hand to pull out of that dark place.

With ample free time at your disposal, you found yourself shadowing her through the day, mainly in the kitchen.

She listened to you, not out of pity, but because she wanted to know you. In the delicate ebb and flow of conversation, she provided insights into the complex dynamics of the household. Yet, the lessons extended far beyond cooking; they touched on life, love, and, most intriguingly, the enigmatic figure who led it all, Yoongi.

You’ve unintentionally given much of the kitchen staff a break, making yourself her designated sous chef. It’s been nostalgic to get scolded when you over-season the dish she left you alone with, to get praised when your spontaneous flavor combinations taste good. She’s warm with you, taking you in like a granddaughter.

“Oh wow, this is so good,” Boyoung, her 10-year-old grandson who accompanies her every now and then smiles brightly, “how can you cook so well? This is better than nanas!”

“Boyoung, don’t say that!” You laugh, a bit flustered, “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“But it’s true! It’s better-“

"Ok ok, thank you," You shake your head, "Go wash up and I’ll fix you a bowl before you go.”

“Ok!” He runs to the bathroom with haste.

Just as he runs out, Ayoung comes back into the kitchen. “Between you and I, that little boy is going to be spoiled rotten,”

“He won’t be a kid forever,” You stir the pot gently, “it’s ready by the way,”

“Perfect, I was just about to let Yoongi know,” She notices how you always look a bit disinterested at the mention of him, “maybe I can get him to eat outside of that cave of his for once, I swear he’s a spitting image of his father, bad habits and all,”

“Yeah,” You agree awkwardly, “well, I’ll go wash up and I’ll be back,”

“Could you let him know? Tell him he needs to come out, I’m not bringing it this time,” She shakes her head, adamant, “he needs to come up for air,”

You grit your teeth, “You want me to tell him?”

Ayeong has tried to get you two alone for the last few weeks. She seems to want to see him loosen up a bit, the stress he’s under tends to pull him away from what’s good for him she says. But he hasn’t said more than a simple greeting. You haven’t pursued a conversation either, he’s been too busy. Uninterested in anything that could even be close to a distraction, that includes you.

“If you could, I need to make sure Boyoung washes up this time,” She walks off to the washroom, leaving you with that daunting task.

The leather office chair knows Yoongi better than anyone these days. He’s been buried deep in the contracts, numbers, and logistical crap. Hoseok normally does this but he’s out on a short leave, a family emergency. So he’s doing it all, taking it all on his shoulders—it hasn’t been easy.

A knock on the door takes him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he expects to see Ayeong so he only glances up briefly, but he does a double take. There you stand, stepping through the door, and he softens at the side of you.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” He repeats, “is everything ok?”

“Yes, everything’s fine, dinner is ready,”

He's still in a dress shirt but the tie is long gone, as well as a few buttons unclasped. You forget that despite the illegal discrepancies of this job, it's still a business, they have to look the part.

He fixates on you for a moment, this is the first time in a while that he’s just looked at you. That dress, one he hasn't seen in ages. Of all the things you could wear, he would have never expected to see this.

He's brought back to his childhood for a blink. When his father was happy to have a son, not just a successor.

His mother would put on this dress sometimes, his father said it brought out her eyes. This dress—he remembered her in it when they were happy. At this moment in time, he remembers what it was like to feel real happiness.

"What?" You question, bringing attention to his gawking.

"Thank you," He breathes out, eyes dipping down into his papers again, "can you ask her to bring-"

"You look tired," You cut him off, "You should come out and eat with us, it'll be nice, plus Ayeong said she won’t bring you anything if you don’t agree."

He cocks his head to the side. "Us?"

"Her grandson, she had to watch him after school," You grin to yourself, "I'm surprised you didn't hear him running down the hall,”

"Right, right she told me about that," He sighs, glancing at the piles of paper that he'd rather not spend any more time with, "I'll join you, just let me close this up, I'll be out shortly."

"Alright," Your eyes brightened a bit and he could swear you were hiding excitement, "I'll let her know."

When you enter the kitchen, Ayeong notices your attempts at hiding a smile. “What did he say?”

"He'll be out shortly," You head to the sink to clean up the remaining few dishes, and that's when you notice her seating arrangements.

"Ayeong, you only set the table for two?“

"I completely forgot! I have to take Boyoung to his mom, she won't be able to pick him up tonight,"

She planned this shit. You bite your inner cheek, keeping your irritated remark to yourself. "But I promised Boyoung he could have some of what I cooked, he's gonna be upset-"

"Already packed him a bowl," She definitely planned this, "I can't believe he agreed to come out, do you know how many times I asked him to come out of that stuffy office? He's as stubborn as a mule that one," She removes her apron, hanging with the others near the pantry, "I never thought it was possible—he must have a soft spot for you.”

Before you refute any of her nonsense, she's out the door with Boyoung waving goodbye with that adorable smile.

"Sorry, it took me a minute," Yoongi appears around the corner with rolled-up sleeves, "everything smells great." He takes a look around, surprised to only see you, and only two seats set up at the dining table.

"Ayeong just took Boyoung home, she didn't tell me they weren't joining…” You try to hide your disappointment with a nonchalant tone, "if you want to take your plate I'll just eat in my room-"

"I don’t mind having dinner with you, I could honestly use the break from work,"

"Oh, ok…” You nod with a timid smile, "You can sit, I'll fix the plates,”

"You don't have to do that,"

"It’s alright," You persist, "I don’t mind,”

He does as he’s told and sits at the head of the table, patiently waiting for you.

“Here you go,” You sit his plate down after yours, “sir,” You joke, trying to lighten the mood, “is it weird that all of the staff call you that?”

“No,” He looked amused, not expecting your playfulness, “it’s protocol, except for the elders of course,”

Quickly, you say your grace and take your first bite. It’s safe to say this is the best meal you’ve ever made.

“Wow, this is good,” Yoongi takes another bite with furrowed brows, “what did she put in this?”

“I cooked,” You stammer a bit, “do you like it?”

“Did you?” He gives you a look of approval. “It’s good, better than Ayeong’s if I’m being honest, but don’t tell her I said that,” He makes a playfully serious expression, causing a genuine laugh to spill from your lips

“Thank you,” He can see the blush forming on your cheeks, you're grateful he doesn't bring attention to it, “I’ve been helping her for a few weeks, it’s been nice getting to know her,”

“She told me, you’ve been a nice change for her and the other staff,” He sets his fork down, “they’re happy to finally have a normal person to dote over,”

“Normal?”

“Oh, I guess I’m getting back to my normal self then,” You’re proud to say that out loud, there was a point where you never thought you’d say that.

“Your dress,” He comments on the last thing you thought he’d be interested in, “is it new?"

“Oh,” You subconsciously touch the fabric, “Ayeong told me I could pick something from one of the closets, was that ok?”

“Of course, I only ask because- ” He stares at the necklace on your chest for a moment, his heart jolts, “it looks nice on you.”

“Thank you…” You blush, not having expected the compliment.

When Yoongi speaks, you’ve learned that his words are his true feelings. He doesn’t care to sugarcoat much and he doesn’t talk a lot, but what he does say is meaningful.

Dinner continued in comfortable silence. Surface conversation would come and go in between bites, keeping any awkwardness from settling. Soon, the plates were empty and before you could get up to take the dishes, one of the staff came by to take them during conversation. You furrow your brows, wanting to clean up after yourself.

‘Ana, I’ll get it-‘

“Miss, it’s my job,” She smiles, eyes pleasing for you to let this go, it looks good for her to be insisting in front of the boss anyway. You give in, not wanting to make her feel obsolete in front of Yoongi.

“The food was great and you were,” He pauses for a moment, “you were good company.”

“You too,” You grin from ear to ear, “we’ll have to do this again,”

“Definitely,” He offers a real smile before disappearing back to his cave.

As you make your way back to your bedroom, you’re met with the youngest of the housekeepers, Yaerim, Ayeong’s niece. She’s taking the rest of your dirty clothes from the bathroom basket. A task you’ve warned her to stop insisting on; it’s the least you can do.

“Oh, hi Y/n, I’ll be out of your way! I was just getting your clothes washed up.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” You exasperate, “if you show me how to use the washer, I can do it Yaerim,”

“With all due respect, the boss asked me to take care of you, so that’s what I’ll do,” She offers a kind smile, “I wouldn’t want to upset him, I’m fairly new so this is my first time meeting him…”

“He asked you to do this?…”

She nods.

“You should have told me sooner, you don’t need to do this for me, I can do a lot for myself actually, I don’t have anything better to do.”

“To be honest,” She sighs, leaning against the wall, “there aren’t many people my age working here so…It’s nice to be around you- I’m sorry, is that weird to say?”

“Not at all, I like being around you too,” You smile, “I don’t have any girlfriends, I haven’t for a while,”

“Well, we can be friends then!” She exclaims, “I’m 19 and this is my first job, auntie was nice to offer this to me, I don’t have experience doing much else,”

“I used to clean with my aunt before she went back to nursing, I enjoyed it,” You take a seat on the edge of the bed beside her, “I eventually found something I was passionate about and went to college.”

“Did you graduate?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Her expression turns grim. “Oh, was it a financial thing or was it just not for you?”

“Neither, it’s a long story,”

“I’m not too busy, are you?” She makes a valid point.

That night was the first time you had ever told anyone about your life. There were moments where she looked stunned, others she had to push her tears down.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The news ran rampant on the streets. Notorious arms dealer, Kim Namjoon, was shot and killed in an ambush. Jeon Jungkook was there, he was supposed to die, not their leader. There was a price on Jungkook’s head, it was something everyone knew but no one spoke of. Every day, tensions grew between Jungkook and the group. It was unsaid but painfully obvious, that he was the boss’s favorite even with his wavering loyalties to the job.

Namjoon’s memorial is today.

The family came and you could see where he got his looks from, as well as his demeanor. They all mingle, but Yoongi spends a particularly long time with Namjoon’s mother.

“How could this happen?” She presses a hand to his shoulder and Yoongi purses his lips, looking down solemnly. “I feared this would happen one day,“ She began to weep and you stayed far from the group after that.

After a while, you find yourself outside to get some fresh air, the woman beside you must have had the same idea.

“How did you know him?” She pulls out a cigarette, not bothering to light it yet.

“It’s a little complicated.”

“Hm, he was my brother…” She glances at you, the cigarette lit In between her fingers. “I knew this might happen one day, but I could have never prepared for it—it doesn’t seem real.”

“Can you ever prepare for losing someone? I’ve lost a few people in my life and I’ve never felt prepared…not even a little bit.”

“Comforting.” She scoffs.

“Y/N,”

You look back and see Taehyung lingering in the corridor and beckoning you to come to him. With a heavy sigh, you walk over, excusing yourself politely.

“What?”

“You’ve met Geongmin,” He stares, as the woman from another life blows puffs of smoke in the air, he never knew her to be a smoker. “I need to talk to her, privately,”

You glance back at her and just as soon as you open your mouth to say something, he’s making his way over to her. That’s a relationship you never knew of. Namjoon’s sister and Taehyung, you could see that—perhaps.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,”

“He’s my brother,” She turns to him with a scowl on her face, she wears red lipstick and her cheeks are just as red from the cold, “I didn’t hate him.”

“We haven’t talked in a long time,” He leans up against the patio railing, “it’s been too long, I think,”

“The last time we talked, you were off your meds,” She drops the cigarette in the ashtray, “Namjoon can’t make excuses for you, now both of our favorite people are gone.”

“I’ve missed you,” He confesses, staring off into nowhere in particular, “even more now.”

“Don’t,” She frowns, “I just happen to be the only one left…it’s only convenient to miss me.”

He’s in the car, sitting across from Akane.

“It has to be some elaborate joke…”

“The shot wasn’t at close range, from what I heard, it could have been a misfire,” Yoongi concludes, “either way…he’s gone, I was with him when he left us.”

“How are you handling that? You’ve known him since you were kids…”

“In this world,” Yoongi sighs against the phone, “it’s just another work day.”

“Who’s taking over the arms business?”

“It can run itself with a few signatures from me, I’m thinking about Taehyung, he knows the business well, he was an understudy,”

“Hm, well, I heard about Jeon Jungkook, what do you plan to do about him?”

“Nothing.” He takes out a cigarette from the case in the drink holder.

“Cold,”

“He got himself in that situation, he can get himself out. He caused a lot of problems, for innocent people,”

“I didn’t know you cared that much about innocent people,” She scoots close to the door, resting her hand on the handle before showing him an amused smile, “didn’t think you had a heart for people like that.”

She exits the car and he signals the driver to head out.

He glances at the driver who nods, preparing to pull out of the parking space. That’s when Yoongi glances out of the window and sees you approaching the moving vehicle. You were supposed to come with him earlier, you’re late of course.

“Stop the car,” Yoongi scoots from one side of the back seat to the other, to make space for you. He quickly opens the door, letting you slide in.

“Hey, I didn’t see you walk out,” You let out an uneasy breath, "sorry,"

Yoongi puts out the cigarette and you glance at him, knowing if it was for you.

“You’re fine,” He doesn’t say anything after that, he instead takes out a folder and starts reading. You glance over at it, reading a few names.

“We’ll be there within the hour, sir,”

Yoongi seems a bit solemn, that’s a usual sight to see lately. Soon, you arrive at the destination and you still have no clue what you’re doing here. When he neglects to invite you into where he’s going, you simply watch him leave the vehicle and disappear inside.

“Miss,” He looks at you through the rearview mirror, “don’t be worried, the Min’s have to make difficult decisions and they can be rather quiet, they always have, no need to worry.”

You offer him a smile. He wouldn’t know that your feelings for Yoongi are mixed, that you worry about him in a way you probably shouldn't. In no time at all, you see him walking out with a woman by his side. Yoongi abruptly opens the car door.

“What is this?” You frown.

“I’m dropping you off,” He glances at the woman he brought out, “Sal will pick you up later.”

“Who is she?” You eye the woman.

“Heize, she’s doing me a favor,” upon hearing that, you ease out of the vehicle, “she’ll take care of you,” He presses a reassuring hand to your back, guiding you towards the woman.

“Let’s go ahead inside, the tests are going to take a while.”

Tests?

“What do you do exactly?”

“I work in identity,” She walks you inside a small office space, “did he not tell you why you were here?”

“He doesn’t tell me much,” You shrug, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all, “I also didn’t ask.”

“We’re making a new identity, as a precautionary measure.”

You didn’t expect to be giving blood, urine, and saliva samples today. After waiting a considerable amount of time, Heize dismisses the girl she had drawn your blood and leads you back to her office. She’s a quiet person. She doesn’t say much, doesn’t look too long, doesn’t move too fast—she sort of a book-nerd type, unsuspecting.

“How long have you known Yoongi?”

“Years.”

She neglects to look at you, too busy typing away at her computer.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“A long time.”

You nod to yourself. “Has it ever…Failed? Has someone’s identity been revealed even after all of this?

She pauses, finally looking up at you. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Shouldn’t I know what the risks are? It is my life,”

“There are risks to everything, it’s no different than being issued a passport, what are the chances of getting your name misprinted?”

“Not high… but not zero.”

“We'll, can’t argue with that,” She shrugs.

You had no clue, but Yoongi had this all planned out.

Your way out, your final departure from this life.

You’ve adjusted to some sense of normalcy at his family estate. You read, you cook, clean, and take care of little things around the house. It feels natural, normal. Life here is never too fast or too slow.

It felt reassuring to have someone around, to have stability—and consistency. After a hard day, his comfort was normally found in a glass of whiskey or the next readily available alcohol. Cigarettes, once a reliable source of solace, had dwindled into a boring pastime. After the memorial, he lit one for the first time in what seemed like ages, extinguishing it swiftly as you joined him in the car.

Now, he prays to heaven for grace, knowing that this new coping mechanism would ignite Jin's wrath if ever unveiled. Grace or no grace, deep in his heart, he knows Jin would have his head if he knew the truth.

You step into the office after a gentle knock, knowing your entrance would be granted either way.

“Hi,” You wave, seeing that his tie is still tight around his neck, and cuff links are still secured and shiny.

“Hey,” He offers a half-hearted greeting, “did you have dinner yet?”

“No, is that the only time you want to spend with me?” You ask a genuine question, your expression timid as you avoid direct eye contact.

“Course not,” He gently closes his laptop, reaching up to pull off his slowly suffocating tie, “but it is a bit of a routine now, isn’t it?” His gaze dips down, seeing that you haven’t changed out of your formal dress.

“You should get changed, I should be done by then.”

“I think I’ll wait a bit,” You purse your lips, l don’t get to dress up very often,” You rub the hem between your fingers, “I like to enjoy it while it lasts, don’t you?”

When he neglects to give a verbal response, you step closer to his desk, leaning up against the side closest to him. He shakes his head, an endeared expression on his face, now fiddling with buttons on his collar shirt.

“Well, don’t you?” You tilt your head.

“Hm,” He leans back with a deep sigh, “never really thought about it, I suppose it’s nice,”

The longer he’s gotten to know you, the less he desires to be alone.

His life has been everything nonstop, all the time. No time to wade in his thoughts, and daydream about a better life. He used to chastise himself for even thinking about a life without the mafia. He’s never lived a peaceful life, free from strife and trauma, so much fucking trauma. If he were honest, even a taste of it used to scare him. If he were to indulge in even a glimmer of a normal life, he would desire it. He’d kill for it. But he can’t enjoy a life like that. He doesn’t deserve peace, how could he? He’s stolen it from so many people. And here he is, trying to return it to one of his many victims.

There’s another knock at the door.

“Supper is ready,” Ayeong says from outside the door.

“Ayeong, can you come in?” He beckons her inside, “I need to speak to you for a moment,”

You quickly get the message to give them some privacy and you slip out, closing the door behind you.

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow,” He gets up to stretch his legs and roll his sleeves to his elbows, “take her out for a bit, she can get clothes, anything she needs.”

“Of course,” Her face lights up, “she’d like that, but Yoongi in all honesty, this doesn’t seem like it needed to be a private conversation.”

“It’s not necessary that she know I’m having you do this,”

“I’m sorry,” She regrets this as soon as it leaves her mouth, “but why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Fine,” She huffs, not hiding her disappointment, "I’ll take her out in the morning.”

“Stay out until after 9, and I only need essential staff here tomorrow.”

"Very well," She turns to leave but stops to look at him. He's already staring down at one of his contracts. "…You know, it wouldn't hurt to tell her how you feel, a woman deserves at least that-"

"Don't," His tone is stern but mindful to be respectful, "don't start that."

"Yoongi, I can’t want better for you?" She stares, disappointed in his avoidant antics. "All I’m saying is, think about letting your guard down and enjoying someone for once, while you’re still young, your father missed out on that-“

"Is that why you put her in my mother's dress? Do you want me to reminisce on the past, give her up to delusions like my father did to my mother?” He quips.

“Your mother loved your father and he changed,” She defends, “she happened to choose that dress, I had nothing to do with that-“

“And the necklace?”

“Necklace?” She pauses dumbfounded. “Yoongi, I don’t even know what you’re talking about, I’m not trying to trick you into anything if that’s what you think-”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not arguing about this…” He presses his temples, “I know you mean well but she's not going to be here forever, as soon as I can get her out she's gone, and she’s not coming back. Don't get attached, I only say this for your sake,"

She grits her teeth, holding her tongue for what she really wants to say. The last thing she needs is an angry Yoongi. "I care about her, I just want the best for her, after all she’s been through.”

"You don’t think I want that too?” He steps over to the window, looking over at the pristine garden and pool that he rarely touches, “I know what she’s been through, better than anyone...”

“I know you probably don’t believe it, but you are capable of experiencing love-“

“You’re dismissed,” He ends the conversation with a sharp command, already having given her tremendous leeway in this conversation.

You sit at the dining room table, moving your Brussels sprouts around, sipping your wine. This routine of having dinner with him almost every night, it's something you look forward to.

You knew the subtle looks, the lingering gaze when the other wasn't looking, the laughs—it was a calumniation to something.

"Ayeong," You catch her trying to dash through the kitchen, "is he coming? I've been waiting, my food is cold..."

"Oh," She forced a smile, "I'm sorry dear, I’m not sure, he didn’t say," She leaves the kitchen with a swiftness.

You drop your fork on the plate—suddenly you've lost your appetite.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

You waited until most of the staff finished their shifts when the guards left the inside of the home and only patrolled the grounds. That’s when you snuck out of your room to confront him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Yoongi's gaze lingered on you when you emerged from the doorway of the dimly lit room. It’s drafty, the window cracked slightly and you see Yoongi there, sitting with not a care in the world.

You continue. “You didn’t come to dinner, so I thought maybe I did something wrong…”

"I didn't come to dinner because I got caught up," Yoongi explained, his voice low and measured. "You didn't do anything wrong."

The silence that followed was full of tension, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt. A sense of displacement gnawed at you, but you pushed it aside, not wanting to show it.

"You could have at least said something," you retorted, crossing your arms in defense. "Ayeong had to tell me."

“I apologize…Now can you come here,” He beckons you over, gesturing to the couch, “we should talk.”

You do as he says, walking over to sit a small distance beside him. "About?"

“How are you liking it here?” He throws out his question. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, I like living here,"

“Good, I’m glad.”

On the coffee table beside him, you see cigarettes and a lighter. Impulsively, you reach across him to grab the lighter, and the cigarette box and slip one out. You stare at it for a few seconds, twisting it between your fingers, with the lighter in one hand. Albeit awkwardly, you ignite the flame and hold the white stick to it. The flame danced as you lit the cigarette, it caught fire, and his eyes cut to you, finally curious.

You bring it to your lips, heart racing and nose scrunching at the smell alone. You open your mouth and inhale, very quickly coughing like a first-time rebellious teenager.

“Don’t finish that,” He takes the cigarette from your hands as you struggle to catch your breath. “I avoid doing this shit around you, now you want to try it?” He takes a drag like a pro, blowing the smoke away from you. "It’s a bad habit."

“I know,” You look at him with a playful smile, reaching for it again. “you used to do it all the time,"

“What did I just fucking say?” He smothers it in the ashtray, his displeasure evident, “It’s not funny, don't touch that shit,”

“Why?” You counter, “I’m no different than anyone else here, so can smoke if I want to,”

“Not with me,” He scoffs, almost amused, “there are other ways to relieve your stress,”

“Yeah I’m sure,” You mumble, eyes tracing over his grumpy features. “But I don’t think you would know of any,”

Without a word, he makes his way over to the bar cart. There’s a decanter sitting on the top and one thick crystal cup. He reaches inside a drawer and pulls out another glass. It’s hard to tell what the drink is but when he brings both glasses, his nearly full over to the couch, you question his method of stress relief.

He hands you the cup and goes to walk back and forth near the window, casually sipping his.

“Seriously?” He nods, predictably. You bring it to your lips.

“You don’t have to drink it,” He sighs, taking a quick sip. He walks back to sit back beside you, black strands cascading around his face like silk curtains when you look over.

"You think alcohol is better than a cigarette?" You questioned, a wry smile playing on your lips.

“It’s the lesser of the two evils, to me.” He picks his glass up, nursing it his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass.

As you started to rise, ready to escape the uncertain atmosphere, Yoongi's hand closed around your wrist, holding you in place. "We're not done talking," He stares up at you, hand not losing its grip.

Reluctantly, you take your seat back beside him. “What is this about?”

“I want you to know,” He stands to his feet, strolling over to the window, “I’m traditional, that’s how things are supposed to be done in the mafia. Whatever the fuck Namjoon and your brother have done, it’s not like that, even I got a little slack.”

"Okay,” You walk over stand beside him at the window, glass in hand, “why are you telling me this?”

“The family you choose comes before anyone else,” He empties the contents in his glass in one chug, then takes yours, “I defended your brother for a long time because of that code, he defiled it and took advantage of me,” He continues, “now I consider you family, in your brother's place.”

“Oh…what does that mean exactly?

“I’ll make sure this organization supports you, I’ll provide protection for you as long as you live," The weight of his words linger in the air.

"Whatever you decide to do with your life after this," he added, "even if it's against your brother, your relatives, anyone—you’re protected." the finality of his statement sends a chill down your spine.

“Even if I’m not with the group, you would still be there for me?…”

“Absolutely,” He downs the rest of your drink and sets it on the window sill, “without question.”

"You’ll be there?” You scoot to stand between him and the window, wanting further clarification.

“Yes,” He gazes down at you and his palm finds its way to your lower back, “I’ll be there for you, in a heartbeat.”

Your eyes dip down to his lips before landing back on his eyes. But only a few seconds, you expression shifts, and the sparkle in your eyes dims. “Jungkook used to talk like that..."

Yoongi's demeanor shifts subtly, a shadow passing over his eyes.

"Did he?" He knows very well that Jungkook spoke like that.

“Yeah,” You step away from him, “I still think he has those feelings for me..." You look down in thought, "I find myself thinking about it, what he would say to me if he wasn't in prison,”

"You're not bound to him anymore, you have to start living like that,” He says gently, “he doesn’t control you, not anymore.”

"Honestly, I miss him sometimes...” You admit, your voice tinged with regret. “That's crazy, isn't it?"

"It’s not crazy Y/n, he was a major part of your life," He sighs, accepting that whatever heat that might have been kindled is long gone. "it's not easy to forget about someone like him,”

“Yeah, it’s not…”

“But it’ll get easier,”

When you stare at him with a look of relief and naivety, he begins to sober himself. You’re not just anyone looking for attention, not a one-night stand he’ll never have to see again —you’re much more than that. You have a pre-existing weight in his life now. Anything that happens gets carried into the future of the relationship.

It would be nice to have this, wonderful even.

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