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Chapter 4: Juanito and Bob

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Chapter 4: The Evil Twin

Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.

Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)

Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: A bit of a longer chapter this time! Unfortunately I won't be able to post another chapter in a while because I have my exams currently, but I should be free by the end of the month! Until then I'll probably post more for The Crab Cult since I've already got a few chapters in the drafts lmao

Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty

“Guess again, princess.”

Guess again…? What was that supposed to mean?

The man standing before you was clearly Jimin. But how had he managed to dye his dirty blonde hair into a rich purple in a matter of minutes? How had he managed to change his bright blue eyes into a menacing dark red? Did he magic himself to change his appearance? But why would he even do that in the first place?

Questions upon questions started to pile into your mind, only adding to your confusion, until a single memory bulldozed the pile to the ground. 

‘Wait! You have to tell me,’ Jungkook had gasped, ‘is it true you have an evil twin? I’ve heard so many rumours about it. And I swear I saw this guy that looked just like you in class earlier!’

Jungkook’s words, which had been disregarded as silly rumours at the time, suddenly came to mind as the realisation dawned on you. 

Perhaps his words weren’t as silly as you thought. 

Your gaze raised to the man standing before you, studying him before you spoke slowly.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Jimin’s evil twin, would you?”

The man paused, his eyes just barely widening for a moment before he laughed. It was a chilling sound, scattering goosebumps all over your arms as it bounced against the walls of the dim, empty hall. While Taehyung’s gaze had felt icy and unwelcoming, this man’s laugh felt like a deadly warning. 

“Evil twin?” He repeated once the laugh had tapered off, tone now laced with apathetic amusement, “no one has ever said that to my face before.”

He studied your form for a moment, gaze travelling from your uniform to the wand in your hand to your features before finally raising to meet yours once again. 

“Judging from your lack of trembling, you’re either wildly ignorant…”

The evidently fake amusement suddenly vanished from his face as he took a step forward, leaving just a breath’s worth of space to lay between you both. You could feel the edge of your uniform brush against his own as you felt your chest rise in irritation. 

“Or you’re extremely dumb,” he finished, his voice low and simmering alongside his unwavering eyes. 

His desire to intimidate you was as clear as day. 

But you would not be so easily intimidated, so instead you met his gaze confidently as you forced your expression to remain unfazed. Who did he think he was to send you a hidden threat? Principal’s son be damned, he would learn what happens when you’re pushed to your limit. 

You brought your hand to his clothed chest before giving him a forceful shove, hoping to create some distance between the two of you. He didn’t move as much as you would have liked, barely half a step at the most. 

“I’m neither, so I suggest you stop throwing words like that around so carelessly. Do you even know who I am?”

You regretted the words the second they had left your lips, cringing as you realised how they might have sounded. They implied that you were like every other elitist here, hiding behind your parents’ money and power. But that had not been what you meant.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s brother didn’t seem to realise that. 

He gasped dramatically, bringing his hands to his mouth as his voice dripped in sarcastic fear, “oh my, you’re right! I should know my place shouldn’t I?”

That earned him a roll of your eyes.

“Tell me, which mommy and daddy will put me behind bars if I speak to their princess badly, hm?”

“I’m not talking about my parents,” you snapped, irritated by his condescending tone, “it’s me you should be worried about.”

A scoff sounded at the back of his throat, as if you had said something unbelievable. You hated how annoyed that made you, so much so that you were ready to end this conversation and head to your room.

“Whatever,” you said, gaze momentarily taking in the bright moon standing proudly outside the hall’s window, “what are you doing here in the dead of night?”

Jimin’s twin crossed his arms over his chest as he raised a challenging brow, “and how is that any of your business?”

“It’s my school,” you deadpanned, “if you’re about to blow it to bits, I’d like to at least be aware that a celebration is in order. Now care to explain?”

The ends of lips twitched, “you know I could ask you the same. What are you doing here all by yourself, at a time like this?”

“Do you always answer questions with another question?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

The both of you stared each other down, yours a seething glare while his was filled with cocky amusement. You seemed to have met your match when it came to stubbornness, and you had to admit you were far from amused. 

“Is this a twin thing?” You spoke sharply, “you’re a complete jerk while your brother is just slightly more tolerable?”

You noticed his amusement vanish at your words, leaving behind a hard expression that tore through your gaze. You got the feeling that he was thrown off by something you had said. 

“... slightly more tolerable?” He repeated slowly, eyes calculatingly sharp all of a sudden, “ that’s not usually how people describe my dear old brother.”

“I called you a jerk too, which last time I checked was much worse,” you remarked, not understanding his suddenly excessive interest. 

“Did you hurt Seokjin?” 

The randomness of the question had caught you so off guard that you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out a stupid, “what?”

You didn’t understand the connection between calling him a jerk, calling Jimin tolerable, and hurting Seokjin. Whatever was going on in the mind of the man before you, you couldn’t possibly tell. 

“Jimin is only rude to people that hurt Seokjin,” Jimin’s brother explained, still harbouring a lethal gaze, “if you hurt Jin, and Jimin was rude to you, it would explain why you’re not a fan of him.”

“What does that ev-”

“I asked a question,” he said sharply while cutting you off, “one I’m expecting an answer to.”

Despite the fact that he had interrupted you and his tone had become threatening again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry. All you could do was stare at him with a confused expression, wondering where this conversation had gone. 

“No,” you answered finally, “I didn’t hurt Seokjin. I hate your brother because he’s annoying. That’s all.”

“I see,” he said, lost in thought for a moment before the amusement sunk back into his features. This dude was going to give you whiplash at this point, “in that case, you seem to have caught my attention, princess.”

“Am I supposed to be honoured?” You scoffed, “I could care less what you think of me.”

“I’ve already wasted more than enough time with you here anyway. Blow up the school, don’t blow up the school, I don’t care. Just stay away from me.”

You turned around and started walking away, but not before adding for good measure, “or you’ll regret it.”

Jimin’s brother watched you walk away curiously, a thought lingering at the back of his mind. You had just pushed against one of the heavy doors when he turned and crouched in front of the Tree of Life. 

A soft bang, reverberated around the hall, causing you to pause in your escape and face him once again. You were met with the view of Jimin’s brother bent over the floor. 

Except, the floor was no longer the pristinely smooth marble tiles organised throughout the area. Instead, a large tile had been pushed upwards, almost like a trap door. You moved closer, peering deeper to find a set of stairs travelling downward, directly under the Tree of Life.

Your gaze flitted to Jimin’s brother, who was staring into the deep abyss thoughtfully.  

“They say this trap door leads to an ancient and long since abandoned lab that used to belong to Park Bogum, the creator of Elitist Academy,” he said, “you must know about the rumours surrounding him…”

“Regarding his affiliations with Counterbalance.”

You paused, cautiously taking in his words.

Most people lazily referred to Counterbalance as dark or black magic, but that was an overly simplified term to describe a thing that was much more complex. While Life magic was the magic that essentially sustained the world, Counterbalance was the magic that countered it to keep it in check. Sure, that inherently didn’t make Counterbalance evil in itself, but the magic had been associated with so many horrible things that have happened in the past that some have made the association anyway. 

“How do you know that? Why do you know that?” You asked.

“Why?” He countered, pushing himself off the ground to face you, “are you scared?”

“It’s dark magic. If you’re not scared, you’re just stupid.”

Jimin’s brother gave you a devilish grin, one that you found both irritating and unnerving at the same time, before he stepped towards you. The two of you were close once again.  

“Wanna come with me?” 

You gave him an incredulous look, “did you not hear what I just said? There’s a reason why attempting to manipulate Counterbalance is forbidden.”

“Yes, the reason being cowardice,” Jimin’s brother said with a scowl, “dark magic is simply a different type of magic we’re not yet familiar with. If we keep hiding from it, we’ll always cower in its shadow.”

“So tell me, are you coming or not?”

He was crazy. It was the only explanation you could come up with to explain why he seemed so interested in potentially entering a Counterbalance lab. And as much as you pitied the insane, you were not going to let them lead you by example.

“Forget it,” you said immediately, stepping away from him, “if we get caught, we could actually get expelled.”

And then I’ll have to go back there.

“Do whatever you want. I’m leaving.”

You turned around and stormed towards the door to the residences but, just like last time, you only managed to push the giant door open before you paused. 

Technically speaking, you’ve only ever read about Counterbalance magic very briefly in a few textbooks here and there, while your tutors would barely even mention the topic if at all. Yet, here Jimin’s brother was, giving you a first-hand opportunity to look at an entire dark magic lab?

This was a once in a lifetime experience.

You hated just how curious these things could make you sometimes, especially knowing the horrors that have been caused by misusing Counterbalance. The stuff shouldn’t be messed with, history had taught that lesson enough times. 

But… one little look couldn’t hurt, could it?

It’s not like you were actually going to try to manipulate dark magic, you knew that would be crossing an unspeakable limit. But what harm could just looking around to satisfy your curiosity do?

Very slowly, you detached yourself from the double-doors and walked back to the Tree of Life, trying your absolute best to ignore the smirk Jimin’s brother had on his face as he eyed you. 

“Changed your mind?” He asked innocently, failing miserably at hiding his smug expression.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled.

“Okay, okay,” he said, turning towards the trapdoor.

“Let’s get going.”

-

-

-

It was clear the walls making up the passageway were the roots of the Tree of Life. You could feel the familiar rough texture of its bark as you descended the spiralling staircase behind Jimin’s brother cautiously, ready to bolt if he tried anything. You obviously didn’t trust him fully, unsure of the exact reason why he had invited you along. But you didn’t bother asking knowing that he probably wouldn’t have given you an actual answer anyway. 

Instead you continued to feel your way down the pitch black space, focusing on not tripping, though the thought of Jimin’s brother falling because of you put a satisfied smile on your face. 

A few minutes later the passageway opened up into a large cavern, the walls still clearly made of bark. But the bark was different, with a dark brownish, blackish colour that made it seem like it was rotting. 

To your left, carved into the wall of bark, was an array of bookshelves holding a number of leatherbound and worn books, while to your right stood a long table full of various lab equipment and trinkets. You scanned a wooden test tube rack holding four vials filled halfway with a glowing turquoise substance and a tray filled with a number of oddly coloured and shaped stones. A large textbook was sprawled next to it, open to a page depicting a number of trees followed by blocks of text. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. 

Next to the table was a large cauldron, filled to the brim with the same glowing turquoise liquid in the vials, bubbling atop a flame. Brows furrowed, you brought your hand over the raging orange and maroon fire, confirming your suspicion: the flame had been magicked to only heat the cauldron. With everything being wood in the room, it was a wise choice. The sides of the cauldron were dusty as well. 

Your gaze shifted back to Jimin’s brother, who was scanning the room just as curiously as you had been. His eyes missed nothing as they jumped from one small detail to the next. 

“Well?” You said. 

“Well what?”

“What do you mean well what? Didn’t you come down here for a reason?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “that’s none of your business.”

You watched him turn away to pick up one of the books on the long table. He was the one that had brought you down here for who knows what reason, what was the point of being so secretive? You were going to see whatever he was down here for anyway. 

Jimin’s brother set the book down, moving onto the vials in the test tube rack. He gently picked one up with his hand, and it was only then when you realised that they were gloved. Brown cloth gloves with golden rims encased both his hands while reaching a little above his wrists, a marked difference in uniform compared to the rest of the student body. Was he a germaphobe or something?

He turned to the rest of the things scattered around the table, shuffling through them. It didn’t take a detective to know that he was clearly looking for something. 

But then again, what did it matter to you? You weren’t here to help him, so you turned around and went back to inspecting the other side of the room. Whoever had been studying in this lab seemed to have a special affinity for plants. There were plant specimens everywhere. Samples of different types of tree bark were hung on the wall in a frame with writing giving the descriptions of the trees they had come from, while another table separated by a movable partition held a number of different plant roots that had been dissected like a cadaver. You’d never been very interested in botany, so the evident obsession with plants had kind of dampened your interest in the place. 

Once you had finished searching the area, finding nothing but more and more botanic experiments, you turned to Jimin’s brother in disappointment. 

“I’m not seeing anything dark magic related,” you said crossing your arms, wondering if he had just brought you down here as some kind of prank. It seemed unlikely, but you still couldn’t help but wonder. 

Jimin’s brother sighed frustratedly as he set a piece of black tree bark down, “I know.”

His tone told you that he probably had not been expecting this either. Clearly he hadn’t found what he was looking for. 

“You sound disappointed,” you noted. 

He didn’t answer as his gaze stayed fixed on the table, waves of frustration clearly radiating off of him. You weren’t particularly curious about what specifically it was that he had failed to find, but there was still one question that you were curious to have answered. 

“So, since whatever your plan was clearly just failed, mind sharing why exactly you asked me to come down here with you?”

Jimin’s brother just stared at you, lips forming an unamused line. 

“I’m not stupid,” you pressed further, “you wouldn’t have brought me here if not for a reason. So just let it out, what did you want from me?”

A slight smirk twitched against his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest, “and they say I have trust issues…”

“You’re seriously not going to tell me?” You said incredulously, finding his growing grin wildly irritating, “fine, I guess I’ll just start guessing then.”

You paused for a moment, pretending to think it through.

“Ah, I know. You’re going to use me to fulfil your plan of becoming the most powerful magic user in the world with the help of Counterbalance,” then you added, “oh right! And also to kill your twin because you’re the neglected brother that never got as much love and attention as him. How close am I?”

Jimin’s brother could only try to stifle his amusement. 

“You’ve watched one too many fantasy movies, princess.”

“And what would I accomplish by murdering my brother?” He said while tilting his head, then he added sarcastically, “although, I have heard arms and legs sell for very high these days. How much do you think-”

The quip died on his tongue as the sound of a door opening suddenly reverberated around the room, freezing the two of you in place. Your gaze snapped to where the sound had come from, but you were just met with the wall of the cavern. 

“Wha-” You were about to ask, but Jimin’s brother grabbed your arm with a gloved hand and quickly dragged you behind the partition you had noticed from earlier. The two of you leaned against it, the most hidden you could be in this room. 

You peeked over his shoulder, still confused as to why noises were arising in the room when there was no one there, until the wall shimmered and distorted slightly to reveal a person walking through it. 

Your eyes widened in recognition. 

Ms. Kari?!

Ms. Kari, with her dirty blonde hair and wired glasses walked through the almost rotting black bark walls of the cavern like it was nothing, chatting intently with someone on the phone as she failed to notice the two of you. 

But didn’t Jimin’s twin say this place was abandoned decades ago? What was Ms. Kari doing in a Counterbalance lab?

You glance at Jimin’s brother for a moment, and it was clear that he was thinking the same thing. 

“Yes, yes, I’ve planned out the tasks,” Ms. Kari spoke into the black cellphone, “do you really believe me to be an incompetent teacher?”

You watched her walk deeper into the room, but, the more she did, the more Jimin’s brother had to step backwards to avoid being seen. That forced you to take a step back with him. 

“I’ll have them complete by tonight,” she went on, continuing to walk deeper into the room, “don’t worry, they’ll cover everything we need.”

Jimin’s brother took another step backwards, but there was nowhere for you to accommodate him. He had backed you into a wall, causing you to feel rough, black bark against your back while his clothed back was pressing against your chest. You stood caged between him and the cavern wall, simmering in anger at the unexpected position. If you didn’t like having to listen to men, then being touched by one was something you loathed to your core. 

But by then, thankfully, Ms. Kari had stopped walking further into the room, instead pausing in front of the large bookshelf. 

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodbye sir,” she said, before evidently hanging up.

After putting the phone away, she turned to the bookshelf, studying it intently.

“Hmmm, now where did I put it…?” She muttered.

You squirmed as Ms. Kari began searching through the bookshelves, clearly uncomfortable in your current position.

“Is it this one…?” She continued to mutter, picking up an old, brown textbook, “no… I need the whole layout, not just a section.”

Jimin’s brother frowned as he felt you moving behind him, wondering why you couldn’t just stay in one place. The more you moved, the more dangerous it was going to be for you. He blew out a quiet breath, itching to tell you to stop but unable to as Ms. Kari took a step closer to the partition.

You, on the other hand, had to force yourself not to shove him off of you. He had taken another step backwards as Ms. Kari took another oblivious step towards the partition, despite there being no space to do so. That left you even more squished against him.

It was driving you insane. 

You refused to be in this position anymore. You had to get him off of you. 

Jimin’s brother turned his head slightly, wondering if he could quietly step to the side a bit so you’d stop touching him. 

But then he flinched as he felt your hands brush against his back. 

You scowled as you felt him move against you once again. 

Okay, that’s it, you both thought furiously. 

“Stop touching me!” The two of you blew up at each other.

You froze, panic seeping into your mind as you realised just how screwed the two of you were now. Jimin’s brother was no different. His jaw hung open in shock before his head snapped to where Ms. Kari was. 

“What on Earth-?” She muttered, turning around. 

But before her gaze could land on either of you, Jimin’s brother instantly turned towards the partition and gave it a strong shove. You watched in horror as the solid partition toppled over, falling midair for not more than a second before it collapsed…

on Ms. Kari.

“Did you just push a whole partition on top of a professor?!” You whisper-yelled incredulously, your mouth hanging wide open in shock. 

But Jimin’s brother simply turned to you after making sure Ms. Kari was down and hadn’t seen the two of you, “quite whining, we need to get out of here before she sees us.”

His gloved hand grabbed your wrist before dragging you alongside him as he ran up the stairs. 

The two of you didn’t stop running until you had entered the residences, panting like crazy when he finally let your arm go. You and Jimin’s brother’s breaths filled the hallway for what felt like forever as you both desperately attempted to catch your breaths.

But once Jimin’s twin seemed to have achieved as much, he whirled to you in anger. 

“What the hell was that?” He asked, rage laced in his tone and expression. 

“Me?!” You said, indignant, “what did I do?”

“What did you do?! Next time you want to run your hands all over me, maybe try therapy instead?!”

“Oh that’s rich coming from the guy that had his entire body pressed against mine. You couldn’t have moved a little?! Clearly personal space is a subject needed for your next therapy session!”

Jimin’s brother scoffed, “that’s what I was trying to do, but guess who’s hands made it impossible?”

“Maybe next time I will let you touch me,” he snapped, “then we’ll see just how much you enjoy what happens to you, princess.”

You immediately grimaced, his words feeling like a swarm of spiders crawling up and down your body. There it was. There was one of those disgusting sexual comments that men seemed to love to throw around carelessly.

“You’re disgusting,” you said, putting as much of your repulsion as you could in your words before scoffing, “and I’m leaving.”

You stormed into an elevator, immediately slamming your fingers against the button to your room's floor before repeatedly pressing against the button that would close the elevator doors. You wanted him nowhere near you. 

Jimin’s twin, on the other hand, stood for a moment, his expression a perfect picture of confusion as he stared at the now closed elevator doors. 

Disgusting…? He thought, wondering why you had seemed so repulsed by the comment. It took him a second more to come to the realisation, his lips pressing into a straight line as he did.

She must not know.

His gaze dropped to the floor, the dim hallway reflecting his mood suddenly. 

She must not know just how horrible my touch really is.

-

-

-

You flung the door of your dorm open, letting it slam shut behind you.

You couldn’t believe that bastard. Sure, this school was full of disgusting men like him that said stuff like that all the time, but still. How dare he talk to you that way?

You could feel the rage slither down your arms, making your hands shake. That kind of degradation always seemed to unlock a different kind of anger in you. One where you didn’t know whether you wanted to go back down there and make him beg for your forgiveness or go into a shower and aggressively scrub his words off your skin till it’s bright red and raw to the touch. 

You should’ve made him pay for a comment like that when you were down there. But you were also very much aware that you needed to leave in case Ms. Kari was searching the halls for the two of you. 

“Y/N!” A voice behind you suddenly called. You turned to find Jimin walking into the living room, a bright smile on his face.

“I’m so glad you’re okay! I came back and you weren’t here… I was about to call the principal.”

For a moment, all you could do was just stand and stare at his face. You knew they were twins, but… him and his brother looked exactly identical. If Jimin were to dye his hair and wear contacts, you wouldn’t doubt for a second that it was his brother standing before you. 

What an unnerving thought.

“Why does it matter?” You finally asked, tearing yourself away from searching for some kind of non eye- or hair-related feature that could distinguish them apart. You were mildly aware that your anger from earlier was unintentionally seeping into your tone, “I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. You don’t own me.”

But Jimin just smiled, “of course, we’re all adults here. I just meant that I was worried, that’s all.”

His smiles and concerns only seemed to add to the frustration that was building up in your chest. On one hand you had a twin telling you innuendos while on the other hand you had one giving you fake worry. You were tired of it. Tired of this entire day altogether. 

“I’m going to bed,” you announced, your tone suddenly soft from your exhaustion- both physically and mentally. 

You made your way to your bedroom door and paused for a moment, facing Jimin who was still standing in the living room, “and don’t bother getting worried every time I come back a little late. I can handle myself, as I’m sure Namjoon told you.”

Finally, you turned around and walked into your room, but not before Jimin called from behind you.

“You’re my roommate, of course I’m going to worry about you!”

-

-

-

“You can’t be serious!”

You stared at Principal Park with a scowl, wishing your glare could burn right through him, but he ignored it easily, choosing instead to sit composedly at his desk as he gave you a calm and collected expression. 

“I apologise Y/N, but even if I wished to I could not,” he explained slowly, as if you were some kind of wild animal that needed to be tamed. It made you want to wipe that calm expression off his meticulously kept face. 

“All I’m asking for is to be put into a different cohort, any other cohort. I can’t be in classes full of men, it’s… not… healthy for a young woman like me,” you said, words laced with a hint of desperation, “if anyone can do it, it’s you. That’s why I’m here.”

“Y/N,” he said, tilting his head in sympathy, “you of all people should know how important it is that you are educated suitably. Your classmates and yourself must learn differently compared to the rest of the students in this school. The success of our future depends on it.”

You stared at him helplessly, a mixture of rage and hopelessness churning uncomfortably in your stomach. 

“I understand that you wish to be in a cohort with individuals more similar to yourself, but in a way your current classmates are similar to you as well, don’t you think? You will be leading the future generations together after all. Perhaps this experience will prepare you for the relationships you will have with them once you take on your roles.”

“And besides,” he continued, as if you hadn’t already gotten the message loud and clear, “just because you are being placed into different cohorts, does not mean you are barred from befriending students in different cohorts. In fact, I encourage you to mingle with the other students of this academy.”

You watched Principal Park push himself into a standing position, giving you a bright smile that reminded you of Jimin’s, “now, I must attend a meeting at the moment. If you still wish to continue this conversation then we may schedule a meeting for another time, but I must reiterate that my answer will not change even then. Is that clear?”

Your jaw ticked as you chose to stay silent, knowing that saying what you really wanted to say to him would probably get you expelled. Instead, you levelled your tone before replying.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he nodded, “I hope you settle well here, your father and I are good friends. I genuinely do wish the best for you, Y/N.”

“Yes sir,” you forced out through gritted teeth. 

Once you were dismissed, you turned around and left his office, immediately entering into the main hall with your arms crossed over your chest. You didn’t know if it was his head you wanted to bash into the wall or your own. That would still be less painful than the years of suffering you were about to spend in this academy. 

You uncrossed your arms with a defeated sigh, choosing instead to shift your focus on the empty hall in front of you. It was too early for students to be wandering the area at this hour. Most were still in the dining hall eating breakfast and conversing with friends. Your conversation with Principal Park had effectively wiped your appetite, and you didn’t have any friends that you could hang out with anyway, so you let yourself enjoy the view of the Tree of Life instead. 

There was something calming about looking at the Tree. You didn’t know whether it was an effect of the Life magic coursing through its branches or just the beauty of it in general. The sunlight flitted through the stained glass ceiling to fall on its soft petals, making them glow light colours of blues and pinks. Even its trunk was a proud chestnut, a stark contrast from all the dark mahogany scattered around the walls and ceiling of the hall. 

You gravitated towards the towering structure in awe, choosing to settle onto the stone barrier encompassing its base. They’d made the barrier just perfect for students to sit on and relax, and you couldn’t help but feel that this was a better spot for relaxation than any library or dining hall in the academy. 

But your reverie was interrupted when the double doors of the main hall suddenly burst open. Your gaze snapped to the doors to your left, watching them shake as the doors slammed against the wall behind them. From here you could see the dining hall containing a bunch of students all gasping and speaking frenziedly with each other in hushed tones. 

The reason the doors had opened seemed to be a male student, who was stumbling into the main hall after shoving through the double doors weakly. You scanned him in surprise as he continued to stumble further into the hall until he tripped on his own feet and collapsed to his knees. 

He looked like he had been beaten pretty badly as a bruise encompassed the right side of his jaw and a painful groan escaped his lips. You tried to figure out who he was, but you couldn’t seem to make out the entirety of his face.

You stood up abruptly, eyes widening at the scene before you in confusion.

What was going on?

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Chapter 5: EAT

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Chapter 5: Dodgeball

Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.

Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)

Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: Exams are finally over, so here's an update. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty

Your gaze stayed fixed on the man before you, hunched over as he cradled his bruised jaw with one hand. Was this what Principal Park had meant when he had said the Academy wasn’t entirely safe? You had assumed that he had been referring to secret abductions in the middle of the night or underlying schemes being formulated in the shadows. 

Not outright attacks being done in the centre of the main hall while the morning’s sunlight still shone brightly. 

You paused as the sound of expensive dress shoes striking against the marble floor echoed around the hall, each step slow and confident to reveal someone entering through the same doors the guy a few metres away from you had stumbled through just a few seconds earlier. 

You would have ignored whoever it was and walked over to the guy still crouched on the floor, but at the last second your gaze caught onto a few strands of dark purple, causing your head to snap towards him in shock.

Jimin’s brother paused at the doorway, scanning the main hall nonchalantly with those familiar occult red eyes. Even without the dimly lit atmosphere and dark shadows he seemed just as menacing as he had last night. The only difference was that now you could just barely pick up on an underlying anger lurking behind the nonchalant facade. 

His gaze flickered to you for a moment, taking in your standing form beside the Tree of Life, before it ultimately fell on the guy on the floor. 

At the sight of Jimin’s brother the guy pushed himself off the ground quickly with wide eyes and hands hovering upwards in a sign of surrender. 

Wait… was he the one that was doing this?

As if to answer your question, Jimin’s brother walked over to him and grabbed his collar with a gloved hand, dragging him with it until he slammed him against the nearest wall. 

The main hall began to fill with students from the dining hall, all of whom seemed curious, and clearly entertained, by the current state of events. They all made sure to give the two a wide area of space though, evidently making sure they wouldn’t get involved. 

Typical. 

You didn’t know if you wanted to get involved either. There was that feeling back in your chest, the one of elation whenever you watched men fight each other; whenever they decided to inflict pain on their own rather than on you. You knew it was wrong to feel that way, your hate didn’t blind you that much, but you still couldn’t seem to help yourself.

Come on, don’t be a monster Y/N, you thought with a sigh. 

You forced yourself to take a step towards the two, opening your mouth to reluctantly stop whatever was going on, but then paused as you suddenly recognised who Jimin’s brother had pinned to the wall. 

Wasn’t that the guy that had bullied Seokjin yesterday? What was his name… Jihoon?

“Look man,” Jihoon said, hands still up in surrender as Jimin’s brother held his collar, “I don’t understand what I did! Please just let me go, I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Oh?” Jimin’s brother grinned, a devilish glint in his eyes that did not match his calm tone, “not so tough now, are we?”

His gaze dropped to the bruise on Jihoon’s jaw, which was now turning an ugly shade of purple, “that’s disappointing, I was expecting a good fight.”

You watched Jihoon cower a bit when his gaze raised to meet his once again, “you want me to leave you alone?”

“Y-yes,” Jihoon answered, so quickly that you almost felt bad for him. Jimin’s brother nodded slowly, clearly relishing in his fear.

“Okay, but only on one condition.”

Jimin’s brother leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, but to your surprise, Jihoon seemed to freak out at the action. His head immediately jerked backwards, causing it to hit against the wall behind him roughly. A pained groan escaped his lips. 

You narrowed your gaze at the excessive reaction. You knew Jihoon was a coward the second you had caught him preying on Seokjin, but still… Jimin’s brother had only leaned forward. Was Jihoon really that scared of him?

Jimin’s brother ignored the reaction, waiting for him to stop groaning over his head, before he leaned forward once again and whispered something near his ear. You felt everyone strain their ears to try and listen to his words, but they were spoken much too low for anyone, including you, to hear. 

His words elicited another reaction from Jihoon, but this time it was more of a shocked response than a frightened one. 

“You what?!” He said incredulously, his hands dropping to his sides.

But one withering glare from Jimin’s brother suddenly had him nodding instantly, “wait- okay! Okay, I swear!”

“Great,” Jimin’s brother grinned with fake amusement for a moment before it dropped.

“Now get lost.”

Jihoon scrambled away from him the second he was freed, half running through the front doors of the academy. It was almost comical the way Hannah, the blonde foreigner that had been with him yesterday, ran after him while calling his name. The two definitely made for an interesting pair, you’ll give them that much. 

You looked back at Jimin’s brother, only to find him already walking out of the hall without another word. His expression was far from the amused cocky bastard from last night, this time filled with hidden rage that you questioned. You distantly wondered what Jihoon could have possibly done to make him so angry. 

“Cheonsa,” a voice behind you stated suddenly.

You turned around to find an unfamiliar girl standing next to you, dressed in the same Elitist Academy uniform as your own. Similar to Hannah she was also a foreigner, but her dark brown hair was pulled into short braids under her maroon cap while her light brown skin stood out against her cream-coloured collar. 

“Sorry, what?” You asked, unsure of what she had just said.

While the students that had stayed to watch the spectacle began making their way to their classes, she just continued to stand beside you and stare at the door in which Jimin’s brother had disappeared behind, “the guy that just practically beat up Jihoon, his name is Park Cheonsa.”

“Cheonsa?” You repeated, tilting your head slightly, “that’s an… odd name.”

The word itself translated to ‘angel,’ but you’d never actually heard anyone use it as a name before. The irony of someone like him being named angel was also not lost on you. 

“He’s the principal’s son, which is why he can get away with acting out like that. I’d be careful around him if I were you.”

You almost snorted, but held yourself back at the last minute so that you didn’t come off as rude. Everyone in this academy had rich parents that allowed them to act however they wanted, it was practically a requirement in order to get into the school. 

Still, it was sweet of her to give you a warning anyway.

You gave her a smile, “thanks for the warning… I guess. What’s your name?”

“Oh right!” She breathed with an embarrassed smile, “I almost forgot, I’m Amelia!”

“Y/N,” you offered, “it’s nice to meet you, Amelia.”

“It’s nice to meet you too Y/N, you’re really nice,” she said, then added shyly, “it’s been kind of hard to find nice people in this Academy.”

You regarded her for a moment, contemplating her words. She must have been from one of the more lower class families. In a place where everyone was rich, the students treated each other based on how rich their families were. So while Amelia was far from worrying about when her next meal would be, she and the students like her were probably taking the brunt of the bullying in this place. 

It was a sad truth, one that had you sympathising with her. 

“People can be real jerks, I totally get it,” you agreed, offering her another smile, “but if it means anything, you can always consider me a friend. Only if you’d like to, of course.”

To your surprise, Amelia frowned, “that’s very kind of you, but… if you’re seen with me, won’t they start targeting you as well? I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a light chuckle escaping your lips before you could stop yourself, “you don’t have to worry about that, I’ll be fine.”

You were sure word must have gotten out by now about who you were. Whether it was regarding your ability or the identity of your parents, either piece of information would be more than enough to protect you from any kind of bullying. 

“Besides,” you continued, giving her a dramatic frown, “I don’t even have any friends. You’re really going to let me die of loneliness?”

Amelia just laughed, shaking her head at you, “I didn’t realise your life was on the line here. In that case, how can I say no?”

With a smile, you checked the time on your phone, noticing that your class was about to start soon, “I have class right now, so I need to get going. Maybe we can meet up during break?”

“Really?” Amelia said, almost in surprise, as her expression brightened at the offer, “of course, I would love to!” 

You nodded, “great, I’ll see you later in that case.”

You started to turn around, feeling bad that you couldn’t stay and talk to her for longer since you knew being late to class wasn’t going to do your grades any favours, but was stopped when Amelia suddenly placed her hand on your shoulder at the last second, as if she had needed to work up the courage to do it. 

“Hey, listen…” She started hesitantly, “before you go, I just wanted you to know that I’ll stand up for you if people start treating you badly because of me. I’m not the type to just watch a friend suffer silently.”

You smiled at her thoughtfulness. Obviously it was too early to tell, but you had a feeling that Amelia was going to become a pretty close friend after today. Or maybe that was just something you wanted to happen and you were projecting. Either way, you had no issues with getting closer to the sweet girl standing before you. 

-

-

-

“You’re joking right?”

Namjoon stared at you incredulously, his eyes narrowing in that way that always seemed to make whoever his target was at that moment feel like they had a baseball for a brain. Hell, it used to make you feel like the dumbest person on Earth until you finally stopped letting it get to you. 

You were sitting in the same History of Magic 101 class as yesterday, except the size of the class had evidently decreased. Instead, the lecture hall was now only filled with 8 other students, male students, aside from yourself, just as Principal Park had explained. 

“The ability to control magic was completely absent during the Mesozoic era,” Namjoon continued to insist, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You sat back in your chair, mimicking his action with a raised brow, “tell that to the dinosaur bones that were recently discovered to have traces of magic in them.”

He scoffed, “humans are the only species with the ability to influence magic, so how could this ability have existed when humans didn’t?” 

Making sure to keep your gaze on Namjoon, you focused on your peripheral vision to study Ms. Kari, who was standing on the podium. To your delight, you noticed her hands placed frustratedly on her hips as she gave both you and Namjoon a look mixed with exhaustion and irritation. 

“And how do you know dinosaurs couldn’t control magic back then?” You questioned, focusing back on the man sitting a few seats away from you to goad him further, “it would explain the traces of magic found in their bones.”

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Cheonsa throw his head back in a muted groan before propping himself forward on his hands with a sigh. The rest of the class looked back and forth between the two of you, whether invested in the debate or confused by it you didn’t know. 

“The magic in their bones could have come from anywhere!” He argued, “it could have been absorbed from their surroundings or simply remnants of life magic from when they were still alive! Today’s animals lack the ability to influence magic, therefore it’s likely that the dinosaurs were the same.”

“Not necessarily,” you shot back, “perhaps dinosaurs became extinct due to their ability to influence magic while animals today survive only because they cannot? You ever heard of selective pressures, Namjoon?”

“Then what about-”

“This is the fourth time you both have broken into an argument after I asked a simple question to the class,” Ms. Kari finally spoke, interrupting Namjoon with a scowl, “I understand that you two seem to already have extensive knowledge on the class material, but these outbursts are disrupting my teaching.”

“If they don’t stop, I will have to start taking more severe action,” she threatened, making sure to look both you and Namjoon in the eye, “is that understood?”

Namjoon gave you one last look before turning to face Ms. Kari once again, “yes, Ms. Kari.”

“It won’t happen again,” you added.

But you lied.

It was definitely going to happen again. 

If Principal Park wasn’t going to switch your cohort, then you were just going to have to take matters into your own hands. See, if you were to keep causing disruptions in class, Ms. Kari would eventually have to take it up with the Principal. And since Principal Park would have to take action, but can’t kick you out of the school, he would have no other choice but to switch your class. He’d probably switch you to private tutoring, which you were no stranger to. 

All you had to do was argue with Namjoon a few times per class, which was beyond easy considering Namjoon’s unlimited ego and his constant need to prove himself right all the time. 

If everything went as planned you’d be out of here by the end of the week. 

But until then, you’d have to survive your classes the way they were at the moment. 

So you did.

The rest of the class went smoothly for the most part, aside from a couple more small arguments you started between yourself and Namjoon, until the bell rang and everyone began making their way to the next class.

You walked into the women’s dressing room, making sure to lock it before beginning to change out of your uniform. Your next class was physical education, which required you to slip into your academy-issued gym clothes. The gym uniform consisted of a white, fitted short-sleeve t-shirt that had been tailored to your exact specifications and loose red shorts that ended just below your mid-thigh. You decided to also pull on the matching red zip-up sweater, with the gold emblem printed on the lapel unlike the formal uniform, wishing that it would protect you from more than just a chilly breeze. 

You fixed your hair up into a ponytail as you walked out of the dressing room and started making your way out of the academy. The physical education class was to be held in the field in front of the school, so you stepped onto the grass reluctantly while scanning the area. 

The guys had already arrived, each of them wearing the same uniform you were while lounging around or just casually chatting with one another as they waited for the Professor to arrive. Some had opted to wear the sweater while others had chosen to discard theirs haphazardly at the edge of the field. 

You chose to stand off to the side, unable to stop yourself from sulking a bit at not having anyone to talk to. It sucked to be in a class full of men, but you reminded yourself that you just had to wait it out for one week. Then, hopefully, your plan would grant you some form of peace.

Too in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Yoongi had walked up to you until he was standing right beside you with his arms crossed over his chest. He stood for a moment, completely unnoticed by you until he suddenly spoke. 

“Stop that.”

You turned to him, gaze unintentionally falling on the black patch covering his left eye. It came as a surprise to you that he had approached you and started up a conversation considering he didn’t seem like the type to enjoy talking to others. 

“Stop what?” You replied, turning your face away to study the field once again. 

“You’re practically burning holes through everyone’s head with your glare,” he commented, “stop it, it’s annoying.”

You scoffed. What was up with this guy and always trying to tell you what to do? Maybe Jungkook was right and he really was some creep that was into that or something.

“If it bothers you so much, you can always just go away,” you said.

You could feel his gaze boring into the side of your head, making you shift uncomfortably before you turned to glare at him. He only titled his head slightly.

“You know,” he started, “Namjoon told us about your obvious hate towards our gender. Care to explain the reasoning behind such strong feelings?”

“No.”

He narrowed his eye, opening his mouth to probably prod you further, but to your relief you noticed the Professor stepping onto the field. 

He was a tall guy, maybe one of the tallest men you’d ever seen, and dressed in a dark grey tracksuit and black dress shoes. The zip of his jacket was pulled down halfway to reveal a white collared shirt and a neatly-made maroon tie. Everything about him seemed neat. His dark brown hair was trimmed and brushed tidily to the side while his gleaming black framed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.

Without another glance towards Yoongi, you made your way towards the Professor alongside the other guys. You all formed a ring around him, waiting for him to start the class.

“This is Physical Education 101,” he said gruffly, “I’m Professor Son, but you will only refer to me as sir. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir!” You all exclaimed, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had joined the military.

“Now I know what most of your old high school Phys Ed classes must have looked like,” he said, eyeing each and every one of you, “they were seen as a break from studying, usually a period to waste time and have fun.”

“But from now on you can forget those days, because moving forward this class will take everything out of you. It will be merciless, just like the real world, so you’ll learn to suck it up, and hopefully, by the end of it, you’ll make something of yourselves.”

Mr. Son rested a hand over his hip as the other stroked his chin in thought. 

“Since today’s your first day, I’ve decided we’ll play a game of dodgeball,” he said. Then, as if a thought just occurred to him, he suddenly began to laugh, “hope you survive enough for your next class.”

There was something… scary about his laugh. While Cheonsa’s laugh had sounded like a warning, his just sounded cruel. But you were only playing dodgeball, how bad could it be?

When he finally let his laugh subside, Mr. Son waved a hand around, “now get into two teams, you’re old enough to do it on your own.”

At his words, everyone hurried to place themselves into a group as quickly as possible. Mr. Son was clearly one of the mean teachers, and no one wanted to get on the bad side of a teacher that already had it out for you. 

Since none of the guys really knew each other that well, the groups formed pretty much based on how close to each other everyone was standing. In a matter of seconds, groups of four students had formed on either side of you.

The only issue was that you had been standing mostly in the middle of the two, making you hesitate for a moment. With the groups already being equal, and you standing directly in the middle of them, you didn’t know which one you were meant to go into. But under Mr. Son’s scrutinising eye, you quickly shuffled over to the group on the right, barely paying attention to who was in that team. 

You unintentionally ended up standing next to Jungkook, who gave you a grin. He was one of the guys who had decided to discard the zip-up sweater and instead wore only the white, short-sleeve shirt with his red shorts. Under the sunlight you could make out an athletic, but toned, body, the thin material doing a poor job of hiding his prominent muscles. 

“You have a good eye, Y/N,” he said as Mr. Son turned away from the groups, “you’ve skillfully chosen the winning team, congratulations.”

Your gaze strayed from him to study the rest of the group. It was annoying that you had ended up in the same group as Namjoon, Jimin, and Yoongi, and of course Jungkook. But then again, joining the other group would have meant being teammates with Taehyung, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Cheonsa, who were equally annoying. Basically it was a lose-lose situation either way. 

To your left Hoseok, who was on the other team, snorted, but his expression was humorous, “sorry, what was that? Did you say the losing team? Because if so you’d be right.”

“In your dreams maybe,” Jungkook laughed, only for Mr. Son to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, leave the trash talking for the actual game,” he said as he brought out his wand and directed it towards the centre of the field. A neat line of dodgeballs appeared from thin air, bright red and soft-looking under the sun.

“Though we’ll see how much you’ll feel like talking soon enough. Now get in position.”

The two teams immediately separated, walking to either side of the field before crouching over the white line outlining its edge. You opted to crouch beside Jimin, who gave you a quick thumbs up before refocusing on the dodgeballs in the centre of the field. 

Even though you didn’t care much about winning a stupid game of dodgeball, you couldn’t help but study the other team anyway. Hoseok seemed the most into it as he called out suggestions to the rest of his team for reaching the dodgeballs before everyone else, while Cheonsa just rolled his eyes at the effort. Beside him Taehyung seemed just as apathetic, but he seemed to at least be a little less apparent about it. Seokjin, on the other hand, seemed like he wanted to be anywhere except here. 

The difference in attitude between Hoseok and his team was almost laughable. 

The nine of you watched Professor Son walk alongside the sidelines of the field until he paused beside the line of dodgeballs. He brought out his phone, seemingly checking something, before he faced you all once again. 

“The game begins at the sound of the whistle,” he announced, earning him a few nods. 

“Three,” he began to count, “two”

“One.”

Mr. Son suddenly brought his wand upwards, flicking his wrist so that it rounded into a circle in the air. Not even half a second later the sound of a shrill whistle cut through the silence, as clearly as if someone had blown into one right beside your ear. 

“Begin!”

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Chapter 6: Built STUPID

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A/N: idc if it’s not funny, the last tweet literally had me cry-laughing while making it 😭 on another note, guess who’s almost done writing the first chapter of a new JK fic 😏 (someone plz applaud me, it’s not Jimin for once)

Chapter 7: Aristotle

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A/N: my motivation has been so dead lately and ofc this has to happen when I actually have time to write >:(

The Sex Contract | PJM

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction (explict), PTSD, child abuse, be sure to check the warnings for each chapter as additional warnings may be added as story progresses.

Chapter Index:

01 | 02 | 03 | ongoing...

Chapter 6: I'm Sorry Too

Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.

Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)

Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: The difference between the way Y/N treats Amelia in comparison to the guys actually makes me laugh like she rlly can't stand them lmao

Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty @11thenightwemet11

The sound of the whistle sparked you all into action.

You jumped up from your crouching position and sprinted to the middle of the field, managing to snatch a dodgeball barely a second before Taehyung could. The moment your hand enclosed around the rubber ball, you backed away, immediately scanning your surroundings. 

Yoongi and Jungkook were each holding a ball of their own, moving away from the centre the same way you had, while Hoseok was the only person on the other team that had grabbed the last one. 

There was only a moment of silence before dodgeballs started flying everywhere, each one aimed at the opposing team with precision. But as precise as the throws were the dodges. 

“We should aim to get Hoseok out first,” Namjoon said as he picked up a ball from the floor, making sure to keep an eye out for the other team’s throws, “he’s the biggest threat at the moment.”

Jungkook nodded, “agreed, though I’d keep an eye out for Taehyung as well.”

You hated to agree with him, but he was right. Despite his earlier apathy, Taehyung was a lot more athletic than you had initially thought, with some of his throws being mere millimetres away from getting a few of you out. 

You sneaked a glance at the rest of your team, noticing Jimin and Yoongi’s distracted faces. Jimin’s expression seemed worried, his gaze constantly finding Seokjin every few seconds. You couldn’t blame him, considering physical activity didn’t seem to be his strong suit. He was constantly hiding behind Cheonsa, occasionally picking up a ball to throw it weakly at your team’s side of the field. 

Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed beyond irritated as he gave the ball in his hand, the field around him, and the coach a subdued glare. You didn’t exactly know what the reason for said irritation was, but if you had to guess, you’d say that he seemingly wasn’t a fan of the game that had been chosen. Why might that be? You didn’t even have a guess for that one. 

With a new game plan in mind, the five of you spread out across the field, trying your best to target Hoseok and Taehyung while they manoeuvred away from each throw. 

“Make sure the ball doesn’t touch anywhere under your shoulders!” Hoseok called out, taking a few steps back as he surveyed the field meticulously, “and try to catch the ball as it’s coming towards you.”

“If you manage to catch it, whoever threw it automatically gets out.” He turned his head to meet his teammates’ eyes as he spoke. 

It was an opportunity, you realised, as you noticed Hoseok’s focus was distracted for just a moment. But before you could act, you watched Jungkook smirk, clearly noticing the mistake as well, before grabbing a ball from the floor and hurling it at Hoseok’s leg. 

You couldn’t have expected what happened next even if you were made to relive this moment over and over. 

Almost in slow motion, you watched the ball leave Jungkook’s hand, flying in the air for a moment, before it connected with Hoseok’s bare leg. It was only soft rubber, the most it should have been able to do was leave a light pink tinge on his skin, but instead, as the red sphere made contact with his leg, a strangled groan escaped Hoseok’s lips as he immediately crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg with one hand while the other kept himself upright. 

You might have scoffed at the exaggerated expression, reducing it to another instance of men being dramatic, but the look of pure pain on Hoseok’s face and in his voice made you hesitate in jumping to that thought. Everyone paused, an eerie silence falling over the field as confusion spread through everyone’s mind. 

It wasn’t until Hoseok’s hand raised from his leg that you realised why he had sounded so hurt, your own eyes widening at the view.

Hoseok’s leg was a bloody mess. 

It was as if someone had taken a knife, searing hot iron, and toxic acid to the initially clear skin multiple times. From a distance, you could make out some deep-looking cuts scattered around his calf, as well as a giant purple and blue bruise. You grimaced as you picked up on a sickening sizzling sound that seemed to really complete the picture. 

But then you watched in horror as the bruise and cuts began to spread up his leg, until his entire thigh was bleeding as well. It was enough to make your jaw drop. 

Taehyung walked up to him slowly, assessing Hoseok’s leg with an expression that matched your own before he suddenly whipped around to face Jungkook. 

“What the hell did you do?!” He yelled furiously, icy eyes ablaze with pure rage.

“I… I didn’t mean…” Jungkook tried to explain, but his surprise seemed to bar him from finishing the sentence while his gaze stayed glued to Hoseok’s leg. 

You couldn’t blame him. How could such a flimsy rubber ball have caused such a major injury? It was impossible… unless it was-

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Mr. Son laughed -laughed- as he crossed his arms in delight, “I’ve magically altered the balls to ensure that if they hit you, it’ll hurt like hell, so I suggest you start taking the game more seriously.”

He then uncrossed his arms to casually place his hands on his hips, “now continue playing, I didn’t say to stop.”

Instead, your gaze went to Taehyung, who had begun helping a limping Hoseok to the sidelines, but they came to an abrupt stop when Mr. Son’s words rang around the field.

“What do you think you're doing?”

Everyone’s head whipped back to him, “I told you to continue playing.”

“Um,” Hoseok started, looking confused, “aren’t I out sir?”

“You are only out when you are physically knocked out,” he said much too casually for your liking, “otherwise, you continue playing.”

It was Taehyung that stepped in, his earlier anger replaced by surprise, “but sir… he’s injured.”

“Then he needs to learn to stop being a baby and get over it.” He turned towards the rest of the students on the field, “now I said continue the game!”

No one could move a muscle, too shocked at the lack of care being shown by Mr. Son. Tough love was one thing, but this had to be straight up abuse. 

You all stood with wide eyes, hesitating as the dodgeballs hung limply from your hands. 

Mr. Son didn’t seem to like that one bit. His brows furrowed as he scanned your reluctant forms, the edge of his lip turning downwards in displeasure. 

“Either you start playing the game, or I give you a real punishment to cry about,” he snapped, making sure to meet his fiery gaze with each and every one of you, “this is what real life is going to be like, so either you suck it up, or you face the consequences. It’s your choice.”

If this was him trying to teach you, then you couldn’t imagine what an actual punishment from him would look like- and you doubted that he didn’t already have some messed up punishment already planned for all of you. 

So slowly, with the even worse punishment in mind, you bent down to grab a ball that had rolled by your feet. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, watching you take the bright red ball in your hand hesitantly. You turned to the other side of the field, and with a shaky breath, gave it a half hearted throw. 

Another moment of shock spread throughout the field as the ball made contact with Taehyung, who doubled over with a pained groan. Even though you had barely thrown the ball, it had shot out of your hand like a bullet, almost pushing you off your own feet and slamming into Taehyung’s torso. 

There was a moment of silence as you all watched Taehyung push himself upright, a slight wince overtaking his features at the effort. Distantly you wondered if there was a nasty bruise spreading through his stomach under his shirt at this very moment. 

Then Yoongi stepped forward, plucking a ball from the ground and chucking it to the other side of the field where it came in contact with Cheonsa’s arm.

You all watched him grimace.

And just like that, the game continued once again. Every hit had someone groaning or doubling over in pain or giving Mr. Son the nastiest glare in existence. 

By the end of it, everyone was covered in blood and bruises. You almost dropped to the ground with a relieved sigh when you finally heard the bell go off, immediately dropping the dodgeball in your hand as if it were made of hot iron. You could feel nasty cuts and bruises spreading up your torso and left arm, the pain making you wince.

After surveying the field tiredly, you confirmed that everyone else at least looked alive. Well… aside from Seokjin. He had been hit the most, with purple bruises and blood scattering almost every part of his body that you could see. You watched Jimin check over him worriedly as Seokjin rested his hands on his knees with a pained grimace. 

“You,” Mr. Son suddenly said, causing everyone to flinch. When you turned to face him, you realised with horror that he was pointing one of his fingers in your direction. 

It was embarrassing to admit just how much you tensed at the attention. But really, what more could he possibly want from you? 

Mr. Son nodded his head in Seokjin’s direction before looking down at you once again, “take that five year old over there to the nurse.”

You briefly looked over at Seokjin, an anger flaring throughout your body. Of course Mr. Son would make you, the only girl, take Seokjin to the nurse instead of his literal brother standing right next to him. But as much as you wanted to stand up to Mr. Son and give him a piece of your mind, you had no intention of pushing him past his limits. You had seen enough today, and all you really wanted now was to get as far away from him as humanly possible. 

So without another word, you walked up to Seokjin and grabbed his sleeve, afraid that grabbing his wrist might hurt him even more, before you dragged him towards the nurse’s station. 

Mr. Son turned to the remaining boys, “get yourselves cleaned up.” 

“And if I hear you got blood anywhere in the classrooms, dodgeball will be the least of your worries.”

-

-

-

You’d spent the entire journey to the healing bay dragging a wincing Seokjin behind you, your mood completely ruined by Mr. Son. Seokjin didn’t say anything, just quietly letting you drag him along.

That left the two of you sitting in the healing bay, Seokjin sitting on one of the beds and you leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, while you both waited for the healer to arrive. You’d reasoned that since you were already here, you might as well get some healing potion for your own cuts and bruises, even if it meant having to be in his presence for a bit longer. 

A sudden vibration from your pocket caught your attention, making you reach into it and pull out your phone. You inwardly groaned at the name that appeared on the screen, not because of who it was, rather what it likely meant. 

Confirmation that your suspicions were right came when you skimmed the string of texts from Jisoo quickly, your lips downturning into a grimace. 

Jisoo: Hey kid, your father wants me to pick you up after school. You’re going to be spending the weekend at home. 

Jisoo: I’m sorry, I tried to get you out of it but you know how stubborn your father is…

You dropped your phone into your pocket with a tired sigh, crossing your arms over your chest once again. You were hoping that you could spend the weekend at your dorm, far away from your home, just the way you liked it, but it seemed like that had only been wishful thinking. Of course your father would never leave you alone, that would be asking for too much. 

At least you would get to meet your mother. 

The thought brought a smile to your face, even if it mostly was a sad one. It pained you that the thought of your mother had become so bittersweet, yet that was the reality you lived in. A familiar anger had your hands curling into fists by your side as you thought of the reason why.

But you immediately unfurled them while shaking your head, attempting to calm the mixture of feelings cluttering around your mind. Instead, you tried to focus your thoughts on something else, gaze straying around the room to aid you in the effort. 

They ended up landing on your arm, and you couldn’t help but rotate it slowly to observe the angry blotches of purple and blue scattering the once unblemished skin. 

How could Mr. Son treat his students like that? And not only did he do it, but he seemed to enjoy it as well. Your arm dropped to your side as a breathy scoff left your lips. He was just another example of a man abusing his position of power. And you were no stranger to those, having grown up surrounded by them constantly. 

Out of the corner of your eye you suddenly noticed Seokjin’s gaze studying you, and you got the feeling he’d been doing it this entire time. But the moment you met his gaze, he was quick to look away and instead focus on the ground before him. It made you narrow your eyes.

“What?” You asked, causing him to widen his eyes in surprise, “if you have something to say to me, just say it.”

His gaze dropped to the floor once again, and it was then that you remembered that he couldn’t speak.

You watched him shift in his seat before taking out his phone, his fingers working expertly over the screen to type something. Your eyebrows furrowed when he seemingly finished whatever it was he was writing and passed the phone over to you. 

‘I’m sorry,’ it read. You looked up from the screen to take in his nervous expression.

“For what?” You asked. 

He took his phone back, typing over the screen once again.

‘For not thanking you when you saved me yesterday from those students.’

That made you pause. You’d quickly forgotten about the incident that happened yesterday, but now that it was being brought up again, in this way, it surprised you.

‘I’m really grateful that you stood up for me when no one else did,’ he continued. 

You shifted in your place as an odd feeling began to spread through your chest. It was entirely unfamiliar, too filled with warmth and guilt. You tried to shove it away, wanting nothing more than for it to be gone. 

“Do you always let everyone walk all over you?” You commented, but it didn’t have nearly as much bite as you had wanted it to.

Instead of getting offended, Seokjin just shrugged, ‘I don’t have much of a choice. It’s hard to stand up for yourself when you can’t even speak up.’

“Men are always so keen on getting aggressive all the time,” you countered, raising an eyebrow at him, “why didn’t you just lay one on them?”

Seokjin wrinkled his nose, as if the thought made him uncomfortable, ‘I don’t know about others, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.’

You hated the pang of sympathy you felt at his words. If he didn’t want to be aggressive, then he didn’t exactly have many other ways to defend himself. If he used his phone to tell them off, then it would just be a new target for them to make fun of. If someone else stood up for him, then they’d think that he was hiding behind others like a coward. It really was a difficult position to be in. 

‘Anyways,’ he texted, noticing your sudden silence, ‘I just didn’t want you to think I was ungrateful.’

It was an odd sight, seeing a man actually be apologetic towards you. Most of the ones in your life were arrogant to the point that sometimes you wondered if they even saw you as human. Honestly, you didn’t even know it was still possible for them to even say it, yet here Seokjin was, so casually apologising to you when, when you really thought about it, it wasn’t entirely his fault since he couldn’t speak. 

A silence followed as you tried to come up with something to say, but all you could do was hold his gaze in the dimly lit healing bay. He was still sat on one of the beds, knees spread slightly so that his hands could rest easily between them. For the first time since you met him, you noticed that there were miniscule specks of pink swimming in the violet of his irises, just barely visible even with the proximity created by the small size of the healing bay. It made his eyes seem like they were sparkling, even under the room’s dimness.

There was something else in his eyes too, a look that the logical part of you couldn’t seem to decipher. But a small, naive part of you emerged from the forgotten depths of your mind, attributing the look to genuine remorse. You refused to believe that, yet you still couldn’t help feeling guilty. 

Your lips moved before your mind could approve. 

“I’m sorry too.”

This time the silence was deafening, but only because your shock seemed to weigh down on your lungs. 

Why the hell did you say that? Sure you felt a little guilty, but apologising… to him? What were you doing?

If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed Seokjin’s wide eyes and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. However, the only thing you were paying attention to was pushing yourself off the wall. Forget the healing potions, you’ll come back some other time, when Seokjin wasn’t sitting there making you say things you would normally never even dream of saying. 

Without giving him a glance, you quickly scurried out of the room, not noticing Seokjin’s tiny smile, before entering into the main hall. The sight of the Tree of Life was becoming more familiar by the day, just like the students that were chatting with each other as they started making their way to the dining hall. 

The openness of the hall compared to the small room you had just emerged from seemed to calm you, making it a lot easier to breathe and think clearly about the last few moments. You couldn’t believe you had just apologised to someone like him. Perhaps it had something to do with the expression he’d given you, one that looked suspiciously akin to guilt, which had in turn contagiously spread to yourself as well.

But why had he even apologised in the first place? There was no way someone like him was genuinely apologetic, you weren’t so dumb as to fall for something like that. So what exactly was his intention behind that move?

You toyed around with different ideas as you strolled across the hall, playing with the strap of your bookbag and casually watching the students milling around. Your form manoeuvred through them expertly, just barely missing one student’s flailing hand and another’s ill-placed shoe.

But just as you sidestepped to avoid an especially excited student, you came to an abrupt stop, a thought striking you all of a sudden.

What if he was trying to manipulate you?

What if he had only apologised to soften the walls you’d spent years building between yourself and the opposite sex? The reason for that could be endless: to hurt you, to get in your pants, etc. You were disappointed in yourself for falling for it, for even going so far as to give him an apology back. What had you been thinking? How could you have crumbled so easily?

You turned your head to the side, crossing your arms in frustration. Well if he thought he’d succeeded, he was dead wrong. You made a mental note to stay extra cautious in Seokjin’s presence, making sure you would never fall for his facade again. 

A shoulder suddenly bumped into yours, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes immediately landed on the girl responsible, who apologised instantly before walking towards the Tree of Life and plopping down on the stone at its base to chat with her friend. Your gaze automatically dropped to her shoes, which were sitting atop the exact place where the trap door Cheonsa had shown you was. The door itself blended into the floor, so well that even you, who knew where it was, could just barely make out its edges. 

The sight of it reminded you of last night with Cheonsa, which made you further remember its disastrous end. You wondered what Ms. Kari had even been doing down in the lab in the first place. From what you could remember, she’d spoken on the phone about planning… tasks? And then she’d also said something about needing a layout of some sort? You couldn’t be certain of the context of anything she’d said that night, but what you were certain about was that it had been a miracle that she hadn’t recognised you or Cheonsa. You had been terrified walking into her class this morning, but she had greeted you both in the same manner as everyone else, so it didn’t seem like she was onto you. 

“And why the hell would I care?” You heard a familiar voice say, interrupting your thoughts.

Speak of the devil…

Your eyes travelled around the hall, searching for the infamous purple-haired twin who owned the familiar voice. You eventually found him standing near the intricately designed wall a few metres away from you, facing Hannah with a challenging brow raised in her direction. Hannah simply glared at him, a ring of scattered books and papers surrounding her feet. 

“You’re the one that bumped into me and dropped all my books,” she snapped, having to stare up at him since she was at least a head shorter, “the least you could do is pick them up you jerk.”

Cheonsa simply tilted his head, seeming almost bored, “and what if I don’t feel like it, hm? What’ll you do about it, shortie?”

“Shortie?!” She repeated, indignant, “Excuse me?! You’re not so tall yourself Park Cheonsa!”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but at least I don’t have to look up to people when I talk to them.”

You rolled your eyes at his clearly inciting words, remembering last night once again. He had done the same to you, prodded you left and right just to rile you up with an amused smirk. He clearly found teasing others fun. But there was something different about the way he acted now. Last night his expression had been full of sly grins and teasing chuckles, but now, as he faced Hannah, his expression was devoid of any such things. Instead, his eyes were narrowed at her while his lips were pulled into an unamused line. 

“How dare you-?!” She began, and you knew she was about to give him a piece of her mind. But then another voice cut her off, this one more calm and lower in pitch. 

“Cheonsa,” Jimin spoke, walking over to the two. And to your surprise, his expression lacked any of the mirth he usually tortured you with, replaced entirely by a serious scowl. It was particularly directed to Cheonsa, and even you could read the message it held loud and clear: ‘cut it out.’ 

Wow, who knew your roommate had a serious side?

“Park Jimin?!” Hannah marvelled incredulously, eyes almost popping out of their sockets as she looked him up and down like he was a seven course meal. She was starstruck for a few moments, just standing there and taking him in, before she seemed to realise the position she was in. In a matter of a second her tough exterior crumbled, her initially furrowed brows and downturned lips crumbling along with it. 

“I’m so glad you’re here! I didn’t know what to do!” She whined, suddenly completely helpless, “he’s the one that bumped into me and now he’s making fun of my height!”

Cheonsa rolled his eyes, evidently unfazed by her complete change of character, “you didn’t seem to have a problem with telling me off a second ago.”

“You little-” She began to counter angrily, but then her gaze snapped to Jimin and she quickly switched back to her helpless facade, “I mean- how could you say that?! You’re so mean to me, Park Cheonsa!”

Jimin’s lips formed a thin line, gaze travelling between his twin brother and the grey-eyed girl before him. He sighed, choosing instead to bend down and pick up Hannah’s scattered books and papers. 

A smile spread on her lips at the gesture, “thank you, Jimin, you’re so sweet!”

Cheonsa was also smiling, but his was a mixture of malice and amusement, “you missed a spot. Tell me, how much is the school paying you to be their janitor, Jimin?”

If looks could kill, Cheonsa would have been a pile of ash from the dirty glare Hannah was drilling into his head. That was until Jimin stood once again and handed her the books and papers he had collected, turning her glare into a bright and appreciative smile. 

The action was followed by an awkward silence, as if she was expecting him to say something more, but both Jimin and Cheonsa stood silently, almost entirely mirror images of each other. When Hannah realised that neither of them were going to speak, she shifted uncomfortably with an embarrassed laugh. 

“Well, I should get going. I’ll see you later, Jimin!” She said, giving him a small wave before she turned around and began walking away, and thanks again for the help!”

Neither brother spoke even when she had left the hall, opting instead to study the other with unamused expressions. Eventually, it was Cheonsa who broke the silence.

“Park ‘I can do no wrong’ Jimin,” he said sarcastically, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets, “thank god you were here in time before my big bad self could harm her.”

Jimin just sighed tiredly, “first the incident in the dining hall earlier today, and now this. I wonder if you ever feel even a sliver of empathy for the people you hurt.”

“Hmmm,” Cheonsa pretended to think, placing a finger on his chin to really sell it, before he shrugged nonchalantly, “nope, I sleep like a baby every night.”

Jimin’s jaw ticked.

“Of course you do. Hurting others comes naturally to you after all.”

“The same way being a doormat comes naturally to you,” Cheonsa countered without missing a beat. 

The twins stared each other down, Jimin’s gaze fiery while Cheonsa’s was full of amusement. They stood like that for a moment, before it was Jimin’s turn to break the tension with a heavy sigh. 

“Whatever, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment, “just leave others alone, you can’t just go around and hurt whoever you feel like.”

Without waiting for a response, Jimin turned around and disappeared behind the giant double doors. You watched Cheonsa stand for a few seconds, gaze fixed on the doors Jimin had disappeared behind with an unreadable expression, before he disappeared in the opposite direction. 

Well… that was quite the show. You never knew that the Park twins were on bad terms, but that piece of information didn’t seem to surprise you. They were so different from each other, unlike the eerie similarities in their appearances, that their enmity towards each other kind of made sense. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called. 

Your gaze dropped on Amelia, who was walking into your line of sight with a big smile that you returned. 

“Oh hey, Amelia” you greeted, adjusting the strap of your book bag, “did you want to go get lunch together now?”

“Of course!” She said, nodding her head enthusiastically, “I’ve been thinking about it all throughout class.”

That made you raise an eyebrow.

“Oh? So you’re telling me you haven’t been paying attention in class?” You teased, raising a textbook you’d snagged from your bag to feign hitting her on the arm, “what would your parents say, huh?”

“Please,” she waved you off with a laugh, “missing one lesson won’t kill me.”

Then she grabbed your arm, looping it around hers before she began dragging you towards the dining hall. 

“Now come on, I’m starving.”

-

-

-

Your break with Amelia had ended up being filled with smiles and laughs, the two of you seeming to click almost instantly. She’d told you about how her father was a CEO of some kind of tourist company and stories of travelling the world because of it, while you had in turn told her about your own parents. To your relief, she didn’t seem to make a big deal out of it, instead nodding her head with a surprised expression on her face before moving the topic along. 

You were glad to have made her a friend, especially considering you didn’t have any friends your age in general. 

“What’s got you smiling so widely?” 

You groaned inwardly, your smile instantly melting off your face at the unfortunately familiar sound of Namjoon’s voice. You turned around to find him walking onto the field you were currently standing on, eyeing you with a raised brow.

After spending your break with Amelia, the rest of the day had gone by in a blur. Had it been your choice, you would have locked yourself in your dorm’s bedroom watching a funny TV show and eating some nice buttery popcorn, but after the text Jisoo had sent you earlier, you’d been forced to pack a bag with your school work and trudge reluctantly to the field you had played dodgeball in earlier that day. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked with a frown, refocusing back on him, “don’t you have someone else to bother with your porcupine hair?”

“You’re one to talk,” he scoffed instantly, “not even a rat would make a nest out of whatever's on your head.”

“What do you want, Namjoon?” 

His gaze strayed to casually scan the rest of the field, as if he were searching for something, “believe it or not, I’m not here for you. I’m waiting for Suho, he’s going to pick me up.”

Your gaze instantly snapped to him, a sinking feeling in your chest at his words.

“Wait,” you said slowly, hoping you were mistaken, “here? He said he’ll pick you up from here? This spot exactly?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon answered, his answer also slow as the realisation seemed to dawn on the two of you at the same time. 

Whenever you and Namjoon got picked up together, it meant-

“He’s coming with us,” Jisoo finished as she suddenly appeared in your line of sight. 

You turned your head to give her an incredulous look, taking in her short, dark brown hair, lightly done makeup, and brown eyes. Like always, she was dressed in a professional and expensive-looking navy suit, while the click of her heels was muffled by the lush green grass.

“What do you mean he’s coming with us?” You asked, an evident whine in your voice, “I thought father was making me stay home for the weekend?”

“And you are,” she nodded, “but your father invited Namjoon over for the weekend as well.”

Great, you thought bitterly. 

Jisoo must have noticed the change in your expression, because she gave you an encouraging smile, “come on, kid. This is far from the first time your father has invited him over.”

“I’ve been seeing Namjoon’s face for two days straight, Jisoo,” you grumbled, “I need a break from it… desperately.”

“I’m standing right here, you know?” Namjoon grumbled in a tone similar to yours, but you just waved him off. 

“Whatever.”

You turned back to Jisoo, “is there nothing you can do to kick him out of the weekend?”

Namjoon rolled his eyes as Jisoo shook her head apologetically.

“Sorry kid, whatever your dad says is law. I can’t-”

“Yooooo,” a male voice suddenly cut her off, causing all three of you to immediately flinch. You snapped your heads to Suho, who was wearing a black suit and sunglasses that made him look like some kind of special agent. His dark brown hair was slightly longer compared to the last time you’d seen him, while his once fair skin seemed tanner.

“What’s up guys?” He asked, his attitude exaggeratedly upbeat, “hope ya’ll weren’t waiting too long for me.”

“Suho, we didn’t see you there,” Jisoo said, surprise still present in her expression. 

“What’s up Jis’?” He said, the nickname instantly making you cringe, “I like the new cut my dude.”

“Really?” She asked, her characteristically professional front breaking for a moment to reveal a vomit-inducing lovestruck expression. It made you roll your eyes, knowing the kind, smart, and beautiful Jisoo standing before you could do so much better than someone like him. 

You targeted Namjoon with a narrowed gaze, as if it were his fault she was acting like this, “why is he speaking like that?”

Namjoon just sighed in response, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.

“He went on a trip to America, recently,” Namjoon explained with a sigh, “I don’t know how long he’s going to insist on being like this, but let’s hope it’s soon.”

“Nah bro, America was crazy fun,” Suho announced unnecessarily, “they’re so fashionable and chill.”

You gave Namjoon another look, “make him stop.”

“Trust me, I’ve already tried,” he said before turning to Jisoo, “why don’t we just get going?”

“Of course,” she said, that characteristically professional tone taking over her voice once again. “If you all will follow me into the portal.”

The three of you watched Jisoo walk into the centre of the cleared out field while she pulled out her wand from the holder at her waist, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between herself and the rest of you. Once she had done that, she raised her wand to wave it in front of her, the wooden stick making a circular shape in the air. In a matter of a second, an enormous burst of yellow light swirled before her, tiny sparkles hovering hesitantly away from it before dissipating into nothingness. 

Now that you were standing here, facing the blinding light of the portal before you, you were starting to notice that feeling of fear pressing down against your chest, making it slightly difficult to breathe. It was a familiar occurrence that always happened when you were about to go home… whenever you thought of who was waiting for you within the marble walls and glittering chandeliers. 

You took a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of the awful feeling, and focused instead on Jisoo’s back as it vanished behind the swirl of yellow and white. It’s not like you had a choice anyway, you were well aware that there was no point in running or trying to negotiate a later date. So after watching Namjoon, and then Suho, walk into the portal, you brushed your now sweaty palms over your skirt before closing your eyes. 

And then lost yourself in the light. 

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Chapter 6: I'm Sorry Too

Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.

Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)

Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: The difference between the way Y/N treats Amelia in comparison to the guys actually makes me laugh like she rlly can't stand them lmao

Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty @11thenightwemet11

The sound of the whistle sparked you all into action.

You jumped up from your crouching position and sprinted to the middle of the field, managing to snatch a dodgeball barely a second before Taehyung could. The moment your hand enclosed around the rubber ball, you backed away, immediately scanning your surroundings. 

Yoongi and Jungkook were each holding a ball of their own, moving away from the centre the same way you had, while Hoseok was the only person on the other team that had grabbed the last one. 

There was only a moment of silence before dodgeballs started flying everywhere, each one aimed at the opposing team with precision. But as precise as the throws were the dodges. 

“We should aim to get Hoseok out first,” Namjoon said as he picked up a ball from the floor, making sure to keep an eye out for the other team’s throws, “he’s the biggest threat at the moment.”

Jungkook nodded, “agreed, though I’d keep an eye out for Taehyung as well.”

You hated to agree with him, but he was right. Despite his earlier apathy, Taehyung was a lot more athletic than you had initially thought, with some of his throws being mere millimetres away from getting a few of you out. 

You sneaked a glance at the rest of your team, noticing Jimin and Yoongi’s distracted faces. Jimin’s expression seemed worried, his gaze constantly finding Seokjin every few seconds. You couldn’t blame him, considering physical activity didn’t seem to be his strong suit. He was constantly hiding behind Cheonsa, occasionally picking up a ball to throw it weakly at your team’s side of the field. 

Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed beyond irritated as he gave the ball in his hand, the field around him, and the coach a subdued glare. You didn’t exactly know what the reason for said irritation was, but if you had to guess, you’d say that he seemingly wasn’t a fan of the game that had been chosen. Why might that be? You didn’t even have a guess for that one. 

With a new game plan in mind, the five of you spread out across the field, trying your best to target Hoseok and Taehyung while they manoeuvred away from each throw. 

“Make sure the ball doesn’t touch anywhere under your shoulders!” Hoseok called out, taking a few steps back as he surveyed the field meticulously, “and try to catch the ball as it’s coming towards you.”

“If you manage to catch it, whoever threw it automatically gets out.” He turned his head to meet his teammates’ eyes as he spoke. 

It was an opportunity, you realised, as you noticed Hoseok’s focus was distracted for just a moment. But before you could act, you watched Jungkook smirk, clearly noticing the mistake as well, before grabbing a ball from the floor and hurling it at Hoseok’s leg. 

You couldn’t have expected what happened next even if you were made to relive this moment over and over. 

Almost in slow motion, you watched the ball leave Jungkook’s hand, flying in the air for a moment, before it connected with Hoseok’s bare leg. It was only soft rubber, the most it should have been able to do was leave a light pink tinge on his skin, but instead, as the red sphere made contact with his leg, a strangled groan escaped Hoseok’s lips as he immediately crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg with one hand while the other kept himself upright. 

You might have scoffed at the exaggerated expression, reducing it to another instance of men being dramatic, but the look of pure pain on Hoseok’s face and in his voice made you hesitate in jumping to that thought. Everyone paused, an eerie silence falling over the field as confusion spread through everyone’s mind. 

It wasn’t until Hoseok’s hand raised from his leg that you realised why he had sounded so hurt, your own eyes widening at the view.

Hoseok’s leg was a bloody mess. 

It was as if someone had taken a knife, searing hot iron, and toxic acid to the initially clear skin multiple times. From a distance, you could make out some deep-looking cuts scattered around his calf, as well as a giant purple and blue bruise. You grimaced as you picked up on a sickening sizzling sound that seemed to really complete the picture. 

But then you watched in horror as the bruise and cuts began to spread up his leg, until his entire thigh was bleeding as well. It was enough to make your jaw drop. 

Taehyung walked up to him slowly, assessing Hoseok’s leg with an expression that matched your own before he suddenly whipped around to face Jungkook. 

“What the hell did you do?!” He yelled furiously, icy eyes ablaze with pure rage.

“I… I didn’t mean…” Jungkook tried to explain, but his surprise seemed to bar him from finishing the sentence while his gaze stayed glued to Hoseok’s leg. 

You couldn’t blame him. How could such a flimsy rubber ball have caused such a major injury? It was impossible… unless it was-

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Mr. Son laughed -laughed- as he crossed his arms in delight, “I’ve magically altered the balls to ensure that if they hit you, it’ll hurt like hell, so I suggest you start taking the game more seriously.”

He then uncrossed his arms to casually place his hands on his hips, “now continue playing, I didn’t say to stop.”

Instead, your gaze went to Taehyung, who had begun helping a limping Hoseok to the sidelines, but they came to an abrupt stop when Mr. Son’s words rang around the field.

“What do you think you're doing?”

Everyone’s head whipped back to him, “I told you to continue playing.”

“Um,” Hoseok started, looking confused, “aren’t I out sir?”

“You are only out when you are physically knocked out,” he said much too casually for your liking, “otherwise, you continue playing.”

It was Taehyung that stepped in, his earlier anger replaced by surprise, “but sir… he’s injured.”

“Then he needs to learn to stop being a baby and get over it.” He turned towards the rest of the students on the field, “now I said continue the game!”

No one could move a muscle, too shocked at the lack of care being shown by Mr. Son. Tough love was one thing, but this had to be straight up abuse. 

You all stood with wide eyes, hesitating as the dodgeballs hung limply from your hands. 

Mr. Son didn’t seem to like that one bit. His brows furrowed as he scanned your reluctant forms, the edge of his lip turning downwards in displeasure. 

“Either you start playing the game, or I give you a real punishment to cry about,” he snapped, making sure to meet his fiery gaze with each and every one of you, “this is what real life is going to be like, so either you suck it up, or you face the consequences. It’s your choice.”

If this was him trying to teach you, then you couldn’t imagine what an actual punishment from him would look like- and you doubted that he didn’t already have some messed up punishment already planned for all of you. 

So slowly, with the even worse punishment in mind, you bent down to grab a ball that had rolled by your feet. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, watching you take the bright red ball in your hand hesitantly. You turned to the other side of the field, and with a shaky breath, gave it a half hearted throw. 

Another moment of shock spread throughout the field as the ball made contact with Taehyung, who doubled over with a pained groan. Even though you had barely thrown the ball, it had shot out of your hand like a bullet, almost pushing you off your own feet and slamming into Taehyung’s torso. 

There was a moment of silence as you all watched Taehyung push himself upright, a slight wince overtaking his features at the effort. Distantly you wondered if there was a nasty bruise spreading through his stomach under his shirt at this very moment. 

Then Yoongi stepped forward, plucking a ball from the ground and chucking it to the other side of the field where it came in contact with Cheonsa’s arm.

You all watched him grimace.

And just like that, the game continued once again. Every hit had someone groaning or doubling over in pain or giving Mr. Son the nastiest glare in existence. 

By the end of it, everyone was covered in blood and bruises. You almost dropped to the ground with a relieved sigh when you finally heard the bell go off, immediately dropping the dodgeball in your hand as if it were made of hot iron. You could feel nasty cuts and bruises spreading up your torso and left arm, the pain making you wince.

After surveying the field tiredly, you confirmed that everyone else at least looked alive. Well… aside from Seokjin. He had been hit the most, with purple bruises and blood scattering almost every part of his body that you could see. You watched Jimin check over him worriedly as Seokjin rested his hands on his knees with a pained grimace. 

“You,” Mr. Son suddenly said, causing everyone to flinch. When you turned to face him, you realised with horror that he was pointing one of his fingers in your direction. 

It was embarrassing to admit just how much you tensed at the attention. But really, what more could he possibly want from you? 

Mr. Son nodded his head in Seokjin’s direction before looking down at you once again, “take that five year old over there to the nurse.”

You briefly looked over at Seokjin, an anger flaring throughout your body. Of course Mr. Son would make you, the only girl, take Seokjin to the nurse instead of his literal brother standing right next to him. But as much as you wanted to stand up to Mr. Son and give him a piece of your mind, you had no intention of pushing him past his limits. You had seen enough today, and all you really wanted now was to get as far away from him as humanly possible. 

So without another word, you walked up to Seokjin and grabbed his sleeve, afraid that grabbing his wrist might hurt him even more, before you dragged him towards the nurse’s station. 

Mr. Son turned to the remaining boys, “get yourselves cleaned up.” 

“And if I hear you got blood anywhere in the classrooms, dodgeball will be the least of your worries.”

-

-

-

You’d spent the entire journey to the healing bay dragging a wincing Seokjin behind you, your mood completely ruined by Mr. Son. Seokjin didn’t say anything, just quietly letting you drag him along.

That left the two of you sitting in the healing bay, Seokjin sitting on one of the beds and you leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, while you both waited for the healer to arrive. You’d reasoned that since you were already here, you might as well get some healing potion for your own cuts and bruises, even if it meant having to be in his presence for a bit longer. 

A sudden vibration from your pocket caught your attention, making you reach into it and pull out your phone. You inwardly groaned at the name that appeared on the screen, not because of who it was, rather what it likely meant. 

Confirmation that your suspicions were right came when you skimmed the string of texts from Jisoo quickly, your lips downturning into a grimace. 

Jisoo: Hey kid, your father wants me to pick you up after school. You’re going to be spending the weekend at home. 

Jisoo: I’m sorry, I tried to get you out of it but you know how stubborn your father is…

You dropped your phone into your pocket with a tired sigh, crossing your arms over your chest once again. You were hoping that you could spend the weekend at your dorm, far away from your home, just the way you liked it, but it seemed like that had only been wishful thinking. Of course your father would never leave you alone, that would be asking for too much. 

At least you would get to meet your mother. 

The thought brought a smile to your face, even if it mostly was a sad one. It pained you that the thought of your mother had become so bittersweet, yet that was the reality you lived in. A familiar anger had your hands curling into fists by your side as you thought of the reason why.

But you immediately unfurled them while shaking your head, attempting to calm the mixture of feelings cluttering around your mind. Instead, you tried to focus your thoughts on something else, gaze straying around the room to aid you in the effort. 

They ended up landing on your arm, and you couldn’t help but rotate it slowly to observe the angry blotches of purple and blue scattering the once unblemished skin. 

How could Mr. Son treat his students like that? And not only did he do it, but he seemed to enjoy it as well. Your arm dropped to your side as a breathy scoff left your lips. He was just another example of a man abusing his position of power. And you were no stranger to those, having grown up surrounded by them constantly. 

Out of the corner of your eye you suddenly noticed Seokjin’s gaze studying you, and you got the feeling he’d been doing it this entire time. But the moment you met his gaze, he was quick to look away and instead focus on the ground before him. It made you narrow your eyes.

“What?” You asked, causing him to widen his eyes in surprise, “if you have something to say to me, just say it.”

His gaze dropped to the floor once again, and it was then that you remembered that he couldn’t speak.

You watched him shift in his seat before taking out his phone, his fingers working expertly over the screen to type something. Your eyebrows furrowed when he seemingly finished whatever it was he was writing and passed the phone over to you. 

‘I’m sorry,’ it read. You looked up from the screen to take in his nervous expression.

“For what?” You asked. 

He took his phone back, typing over the screen once again.

‘For not thanking you when you saved me yesterday from those students.’

That made you pause. You’d quickly forgotten about the incident that happened yesterday, but now that it was being brought up again, in this way, it surprised you.

‘I’m really grateful that you stood up for me when no one else did,’ he continued. 

You shifted in your place as an odd feeling began to spread through your chest. It was entirely unfamiliar, too filled with warmth and guilt. You tried to shove it away, wanting nothing more than for it to be gone. 

“Do you always let everyone walk all over you?” You commented, but it didn’t have nearly as much bite as you had wanted it to.

Instead of getting offended, Seokjin just shrugged, ‘I don’t have much of a choice. It’s hard to stand up for yourself when you can’t even speak up.’

“Men are always so keen on getting aggressive all the time,” you countered, raising an eyebrow at him, “why didn’t you just lay one on them?”

Seokjin wrinkled his nose, as if the thought made him uncomfortable, ‘I don’t know about others, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.’

You hated the pang of sympathy you felt at his words. If he didn’t want to be aggressive, then he didn’t exactly have many other ways to defend himself. If he used his phone to tell them off, then it would just be a new target for them to make fun of. If someone else stood up for him, then they’d think that he was hiding behind others like a coward. It really was a difficult position to be in. 

‘Anyways,’ he texted, noticing your sudden silence, ‘I just didn’t want you to think I was ungrateful.’

It was an odd sight, seeing a man actually be apologetic towards you. Most of the ones in your life were arrogant to the point that sometimes you wondered if they even saw you as human. Honestly, you didn’t even know it was still possible for them to even say it, yet here Seokjin was, so casually apologising to you when, when you really thought about it, it wasn’t entirely his fault since he couldn’t speak. 

A silence followed as you tried to come up with something to say, but all you could do was hold his gaze in the dimly lit healing bay. He was still sat on one of the beds, knees spread slightly so that his hands could rest easily between them. For the first time since you met him, you noticed that there were miniscule specks of pink swimming in the violet of his irises, just barely visible even with the proximity created by the small size of the healing bay. It made his eyes seem like they were sparkling, even under the room’s dimness.

There was something else in his eyes too, a look that the logical part of you couldn’t seem to decipher. But a small, naive part of you emerged from the forgotten depths of your mind, attributing the look to genuine remorse. You refused to believe that, yet you still couldn’t help feeling guilty. 

Your lips moved before your mind could approve. 

“I’m sorry too.”

This time the silence was deafening, but only because your shock seemed to weigh down on your lungs. 

Why the hell did you say that? Sure you felt a little guilty, but apologising… to him? What were you doing?

If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed Seokjin’s wide eyes and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. However, the only thing you were paying attention to was pushing yourself off the wall. Forget the healing potions, you’ll come back some other time, when Seokjin wasn’t sitting there making you say things you would normally never even dream of saying. 

Without giving him a glance, you quickly scurried out of the room, not noticing Seokjin’s tiny smile, before entering into the main hall. The sight of the Tree of Life was becoming more familiar by the day, just like the students that were chatting with each other as they started making their way to the dining hall. 

The openness of the hall compared to the small room you had just emerged from seemed to calm you, making it a lot easier to breathe and think clearly about the last few moments. You couldn’t believe you had just apologised to someone like him. Perhaps it had something to do with the expression he’d given you, one that looked suspiciously akin to guilt, which had in turn contagiously spread to yourself as well.

But why had he even apologised in the first place? There was no way someone like him was genuinely apologetic, you weren’t so dumb as to fall for something like that. So what exactly was his intention behind that move?

You toyed around with different ideas as you strolled across the hall, playing with the strap of your bookbag and casually watching the students milling around. Your form manoeuvred through them expertly, just barely missing one student’s flailing hand and another’s ill-placed shoe.

But just as you sidestepped to avoid an especially excited student, you came to an abrupt stop, a thought striking you all of a sudden.

What if he was trying to manipulate you?

What if he had only apologised to soften the walls you’d spent years building between yourself and the opposite sex? The reason for that could be endless: to hurt you, to get in your pants, etc. You were disappointed in yourself for falling for it, for even going so far as to give him an apology back. What had you been thinking? How could you have crumbled so easily?

You turned your head to the side, crossing your arms in frustration. Well if he thought he’d succeeded, he was dead wrong. You made a mental note to stay extra cautious in Seokjin’s presence, making sure you would never fall for his facade again. 

A shoulder suddenly bumped into yours, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes immediately landed on the girl responsible, who apologised instantly before walking towards the Tree of Life and plopping down on the stone at its base to chat with her friend. Your gaze automatically dropped to her shoes, which were sitting atop the exact place where the trap door Cheonsa had shown you was. The door itself blended into the floor, so well that even you, who knew where it was, could just barely make out its edges. 

The sight of it reminded you of last night with Cheonsa, which made you further remember its disastrous end. You wondered what Ms. Kari had even been doing down in the lab in the first place. From what you could remember, she’d spoken on the phone about planning… tasks? And then she’d also said something about needing a layout of some sort? You couldn’t be certain of the context of anything she’d said that night, but what you were certain about was that it had been a miracle that she hadn’t recognised you or Cheonsa. You had been terrified walking into her class this morning, but she had greeted you both in the same manner as everyone else, so it didn’t seem like she was onto you. 

“And why the hell would I care?” You heard a familiar voice say, interrupting your thoughts.

Speak of the devil…

Your eyes travelled around the hall, searching for the infamous purple-haired twin who owned the familiar voice. You eventually found him standing near the intricately designed wall a few metres away from you, facing Hannah with a challenging brow raised in her direction. Hannah simply glared at him, a ring of scattered books and papers surrounding her feet. 

“You’re the one that bumped into me and dropped all my books,” she snapped, having to stare up at him since she was at least a head shorter, “the least you could do is pick them up you jerk.”

Cheonsa simply tilted his head, seeming almost bored, “and what if I don’t feel like it, hm? What’ll you do about it, shortie?”

“Shortie?!” She repeated, indignant, “Excuse me?! You’re not so tall yourself Park Cheonsa!”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but at least I don’t have to look up to people when I talk to them.”

You rolled your eyes at his clearly inciting words, remembering last night once again. He had done the same to you, prodded you left and right just to rile you up with an amused smirk. He clearly found teasing others fun. But there was something different about the way he acted now. Last night his expression had been full of sly grins and teasing chuckles, but now, as he faced Hannah, his expression was devoid of any such things. Instead, his eyes were narrowed at her while his lips were pulled into an unamused line. 

“How dare you-?!” She began, and you knew she was about to give him a piece of her mind. But then another voice cut her off, this one more calm and lower in pitch. 

“Cheonsa,” Jimin spoke, walking over to the two. And to your surprise, his expression lacked any of the mirth he usually tortured you with, replaced entirely by a serious scowl. It was particularly directed to Cheonsa, and even you could read the message it held loud and clear: ‘cut it out.’ 

Wow, who knew your roommate had a serious side?

“Park Jimin?!” Hannah marvelled incredulously, eyes almost popping out of their sockets as she looked him up and down like he was a seven course meal. She was starstruck for a few moments, just standing there and taking him in, before she seemed to realise the position she was in. In a matter of a second her tough exterior crumbled, her initially furrowed brows and downturned lips crumbling along with it. 

“I’m so glad you’re here! I didn’t know what to do!” She whined, suddenly completely helpless, “he’s the one that bumped into me and now he’s making fun of my height!”

Cheonsa rolled his eyes, evidently unfazed by her complete change of character, “you didn’t seem to have a problem with telling me off a second ago.”

“You little-” She began to counter angrily, but then her gaze snapped to Jimin and she quickly switched back to her helpless facade, “I mean- how could you say that?! You’re so mean to me, Park Cheonsa!”

Jimin’s lips formed a thin line, gaze travelling between his twin brother and the grey-eyed girl before him. He sighed, choosing instead to bend down and pick up Hannah’s scattered books and papers. 

A smile spread on her lips at the gesture, “thank you, Jimin, you’re so sweet!”

Cheonsa was also smiling, but his was a mixture of malice and amusement, “you missed a spot. Tell me, how much is the school paying you to be their janitor, Jimin?”

If looks could kill, Cheonsa would have been a pile of ash from the dirty glare Hannah was drilling into his head. That was until Jimin stood once again and handed her the books and papers he had collected, turning her glare into a bright and appreciative smile. 

The action was followed by an awkward silence, as if she was expecting him to say something more, but both Jimin and Cheonsa stood silently, almost entirely mirror images of each other. When Hannah realised that neither of them were going to speak, she shifted uncomfortably with an embarrassed laugh. 

“Well, I should get going. I’ll see you later, Jimin!” She said, giving him a small wave before she turned around and began walking away, and thanks again for the help!”

Neither brother spoke even when she had left the hall, opting instead to study the other with unamused expressions. Eventually, it was Cheonsa who broke the silence.

“Park ‘I can do no wrong’ Jimin,” he said sarcastically, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets, “thank god you were here in time before my big bad self could harm her.”

Jimin just sighed tiredly, “first the incident in the dining hall earlier today, and now this. I wonder if you ever feel even a sliver of empathy for the people you hurt.”

“Hmmm,” Cheonsa pretended to think, placing a finger on his chin to really sell it, before he shrugged nonchalantly, “nope, I sleep like a baby every night.”

Jimin’s jaw ticked.

“Of course you do. Hurting others comes naturally to you after all.”

“The same way being a doormat comes naturally to you,” Cheonsa countered without missing a beat. 

The twins stared each other down, Jimin’s gaze fiery while Cheonsa’s was full of amusement. They stood like that for a moment, before it was Jimin’s turn to break the tension with a heavy sigh. 

“Whatever, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment, “just leave others alone, you can’t just go around and hurt whoever you feel like.”

Without waiting for a response, Jimin turned around and disappeared behind the giant double doors. You watched Cheonsa stand for a few seconds, gaze fixed on the doors Jimin had disappeared behind with an unreadable expression, before he disappeared in the opposite direction. 

Well… that was quite the show. You never knew that the Park twins were on bad terms, but that piece of information didn’t seem to surprise you. They were so different from each other, unlike the eerie similarities in their appearances, that their enmity towards each other kind of made sense. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called. 

Your gaze dropped on Amelia, who was walking into your line of sight with a big smile that you returned. 

“Oh hey, Amelia” you greeted, adjusting the strap of your book bag, “did you want to go get lunch together now?”

“Of course!” She said, nodding her head enthusiastically, “I’ve been thinking about it all throughout class.”

That made you raise an eyebrow.

“Oh? So you’re telling me you haven’t been paying attention in class?” You teased, raising a textbook you’d snagged from your bag to feign hitting her on the arm, “what would your parents say, huh?”

“Please,” she waved you off with a laugh, “missing one lesson won’t kill me.”

Then she grabbed your arm, looping it around hers before she began dragging you towards the dining hall. 

“Now come on, I’m starving.”

-

-

-

Your break with Amelia had ended up being filled with smiles and laughs, the two of you seeming to click almost instantly. She’d told you about how her father was a CEO of some kind of tourist company and stories of travelling the world because of it, while you had in turn told her about your own parents. To your relief, she didn’t seem to make a big deal out of it, instead nodding her head with a surprised expression on her face before moving the topic along. 

You were glad to have made her a friend, especially considering you didn’t have any friends your age in general. 

“What’s got you smiling so widely?” 

You groaned inwardly, your smile instantly melting off your face at the unfortunately familiar sound of Namjoon’s voice. You turned around to find him walking onto the field you were currently standing on, eyeing you with a raised brow.

After spending your break with Amelia, the rest of the day had gone by in a blur. Had it been your choice, you would have locked yourself in your dorm’s bedroom watching a funny TV show and eating some nice buttery popcorn, but after the text Jisoo had sent you earlier, you’d been forced to pack a bag with your school work and trudge reluctantly to the field you had played dodgeball in earlier that day. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked with a frown, refocusing back on him, “don’t you have someone else to bother with your porcupine hair?”

“You’re one to talk,” he scoffed instantly, “not even a rat would make a nest out of whatever's on your head.”

“What do you want, Namjoon?” 

His gaze strayed to casually scan the rest of the field, as if he were searching for something, “believe it or not, I’m not here for you. I’m waiting for Suho, he’s going to pick me up.”

Your gaze instantly snapped to him, a sinking feeling in your chest at his words.

“Wait,” you said slowly, hoping you were mistaken, “here? He said he’ll pick you up from here? This spot exactly?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon answered, his answer also slow as the realisation seemed to dawn on the two of you at the same time. 

Whenever you and Namjoon got picked up together, it meant-

“He’s coming with us,” Jisoo finished as she suddenly appeared in your line of sight. 

You turned your head to give her an incredulous look, taking in her short, dark brown hair, lightly done makeup, and brown eyes. Like always, she was dressed in a professional and expensive-looking navy suit, while the click of her heels was muffled by the lush green grass.

“What do you mean he’s coming with us?” You asked, an evident whine in your voice, “I thought father was making me stay home for the weekend?”

“And you are,” she nodded, “but your father invited Namjoon over for the weekend as well.”

Great, you thought bitterly. 

Jisoo must have noticed the change in your expression, because she gave you an encouraging smile, “come on, kid. This is far from the first time your father has invited him over.”

“I’ve been seeing Namjoon’s face for two days straight, Jisoo,” you grumbled, “I need a break from it… desperately.”

“I’m standing right here, you know?” Namjoon grumbled in a tone similar to yours, but you just waved him off. 

“Whatever.”

You turned back to Jisoo, “is there nothing you can do to kick him out of the weekend?”

Namjoon rolled his eyes as Jisoo shook her head apologetically.

“Sorry kid, whatever your dad says is law. I can’t-”

“Yooooo,” a male voice suddenly cut her off, causing all three of you to immediately flinch. You snapped your heads to Suho, who was wearing a black suit and sunglasses that made him look like some kind of special agent. His dark brown hair was slightly longer compared to the last time you’d seen him, while his once fair skin seemed tanner.

“What’s up guys?” He asked, his attitude exaggeratedly upbeat, “hope ya’ll weren’t waiting too long for me.”

“Suho, we didn’t see you there,” Jisoo said, surprise still present in her expression. 

“What’s up Jis’?” He said, the nickname instantly making you cringe, “I like the new cut my dude.”

“Really?” She asked, her characteristically professional front breaking for a moment to reveal a vomit-inducing lovestruck expression. It made you roll your eyes, knowing the kind, smart, and beautiful Jisoo standing before you could do so much better than someone like him. 

You targeted Namjoon with a narrowed gaze, as if it were his fault she was acting like this, “why is he speaking like that?”

Namjoon just sighed in response, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.

“He went on a trip to America, recently,” Namjoon explained with a sigh, “I don’t know how long he’s going to insist on being like this, but let’s hope it’s soon.”

“Nah bro, America was crazy fun,” Suho announced unnecessarily, “they’re so fashionable and chill.”

You gave Namjoon another look, “make him stop.”

“Trust me, I’ve already tried,” he said before turning to Jisoo, “why don’t we just get going?”

“Of course,” she said, that characteristically professional tone taking over her voice once again. “If you all will follow me into the portal.”

The three of you watched Jisoo walk into the centre of the cleared out field while she pulled out her wand from the holder at her waist, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between herself and the rest of you. Once she had done that, she raised her wand to wave it in front of her, the wooden stick making a circular shape in the air. In a matter of a second, an enormous burst of yellow light swirled before her, tiny sparkles hovering hesitantly away from it before dissipating into nothingness. 

Now that you were standing here, facing the blinding light of the portal before you, you were starting to notice that feeling of fear pressing down against your chest, making it slightly difficult to breathe. It was a familiar occurrence that always happened when you were about to go home… whenever you thought of who was waiting for you within the marble walls and glittering chandeliers. 

You took a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of the awful feeling, and focused instead on Jisoo’s back as it vanished behind the swirl of yellow and white. It’s not like you had a choice anyway, you were well aware that there was no point in running or trying to negotiate a later date. So after watching Namjoon, and then Suho, walk into the portal, you brushed your now sweaty palms over your skirt before closing your eyes. 

And then lost yourself in the light. 

Chapter 6: I'm Sorry Too

Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.

Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)

Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: The difference between the way Y/N treats Amelia in comparison to the guys actually makes me laugh like she rlly can't stand them lmao

Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty @11thenightwemet11

The sound of the whistle sparked you all into action.

You jumped up from your crouching position and sprinted to the middle of the field, managing to snatch a dodgeball barely a second before Taehyung could. The moment your hand enclosed around the rubber ball, you backed away, immediately scanning your surroundings. 

Yoongi and Jungkook were each holding a ball of their own, moving away from the centre the same way you had, while Hoseok was the only person on the other team that had grabbed the last one. 

There was only a moment of silence before dodgeballs started flying everywhere, each one aimed at the opposing team with precision. But as precise as the throws were the dodges. 

“We should aim to get Hoseok out first,” Namjoon said as he picked up a ball from the floor, making sure to keep an eye out for the other team’s throws, “he’s the biggest threat at the moment.”

Jungkook nodded, “agreed, though I’d keep an eye out for Taehyung as well.”

You hated to agree with him, but he was right. Despite his earlier apathy, Taehyung was a lot more athletic than you had initially thought, with some of his throws being mere millimetres away from getting a few of you out. 

You sneaked a glance at the rest of your team, noticing Jimin and Yoongi’s distracted faces. Jimin’s expression seemed worried, his gaze constantly finding Seokjin every few seconds. You couldn’t blame him, considering physical activity didn’t seem to be his strong suit. He was constantly hiding behind Cheonsa, occasionally picking up a ball to throw it weakly at your team’s side of the field. 

Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed beyond irritated as he gave the ball in his hand, the field around him, and the coach a subdued glare. You didn’t exactly know what the reason for said irritation was, but if you had to guess, you’d say that he seemingly wasn’t a fan of the game that had been chosen. Why might that be? You didn’t even have a guess for that one. 

With a new game plan in mind, the five of you spread out across the field, trying your best to target Hoseok and Taehyung while they manoeuvred away from each throw. 

“Make sure the ball doesn’t touch anywhere under your shoulders!” Hoseok called out, taking a few steps back as he surveyed the field meticulously, “and try to catch the ball as it’s coming towards you.”

“If you manage to catch it, whoever threw it automatically gets out.” He turned his head to meet his teammates’ eyes as he spoke. 

It was an opportunity, you realised, as you noticed Hoseok’s focus was distracted for just a moment. But before you could act, you watched Jungkook smirk, clearly noticing the mistake as well, before grabbing a ball from the floor and hurling it at Hoseok’s leg. 

You couldn’t have expected what happened next even if you were made to relive this moment over and over. 

Almost in slow motion, you watched the ball leave Jungkook’s hand, flying in the air for a moment, before it connected with Hoseok’s bare leg. It was only soft rubber, the most it should have been able to do was leave a light pink tinge on his skin, but instead, as the red sphere made contact with his leg, a strangled groan escaped Hoseok’s lips as he immediately crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg with one hand while the other kept himself upright. 

You might have scoffed at the exaggerated expression, reducing it to another instance of men being dramatic, but the look of pure pain on Hoseok’s face and in his voice made you hesitate in jumping to that thought. Everyone paused, an eerie silence falling over the field as confusion spread through everyone’s mind. 

It wasn’t until Hoseok’s hand raised from his leg that you realised why he had sounded so hurt, your own eyes widening at the view.

Hoseok’s leg was a bloody mess. 

It was as if someone had taken a knife, searing hot iron, and toxic acid to the initially clear skin multiple times. From a distance, you could make out some deep-looking cuts scattered around his calf, as well as a giant purple and blue bruise. You grimaced as you picked up on a sickening sizzling sound that seemed to really complete the picture. 

But then you watched in horror as the bruise and cuts began to spread up his leg, until his entire thigh was bleeding as well. It was enough to make your jaw drop. 

Taehyung walked up to him slowly, assessing Hoseok’s leg with an expression that matched your own before he suddenly whipped around to face Jungkook. 

“What the hell did you do?!” He yelled furiously, icy eyes ablaze with pure rage.

“I… I didn’t mean…” Jungkook tried to explain, but his surprise seemed to bar him from finishing the sentence while his gaze stayed glued to Hoseok’s leg. 

You couldn’t blame him. How could such a flimsy rubber ball have caused such a major injury? It was impossible… unless it was-

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Mr. Son laughed -laughed- as he crossed his arms in delight, “I’ve magically altered the balls to ensure that if they hit you, it’ll hurt like hell, so I suggest you start taking the game more seriously.”

He then uncrossed his arms to casually place his hands on his hips, “now continue playing, I didn’t say to stop.”

Instead, your gaze went to Taehyung, who had begun helping a limping Hoseok to the sidelines, but they came to an abrupt stop when Mr. Son’s words rang around the field.

“What do you think you're doing?”

Everyone’s head whipped back to him, “I told you to continue playing.”

“Um,” Hoseok started, looking confused, “aren’t I out sir?”

“You are only out when you are physically knocked out,” he said much too casually for your liking, “otherwise, you continue playing.”

It was Taehyung that stepped in, his earlier anger replaced by surprise, “but sir… he’s injured.”

“Then he needs to learn to stop being a baby and get over it.” He turned towards the rest of the students on the field, “now I said continue the game!”

No one could move a muscle, too shocked at the lack of care being shown by Mr. Son. Tough love was one thing, but this had to be straight up abuse. 

You all stood with wide eyes, hesitating as the dodgeballs hung limply from your hands. 

Mr. Son didn’t seem to like that one bit. His brows furrowed as he scanned your reluctant forms, the edge of his lip turning downwards in displeasure. 

“Either you start playing the game, or I give you a real punishment to cry about,” he snapped, making sure to meet his fiery gaze with each and every one of you, “this is what real life is going to be like, so either you suck it up, or you face the consequences. It’s your choice.”

If this was him trying to teach you, then you couldn’t imagine what an actual punishment from him would look like- and you doubted that he didn’t already have some messed up punishment already planned for all of you. 

So slowly, with the even worse punishment in mind, you bent down to grab a ball that had rolled by your feet. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, watching you take the bright red ball in your hand hesitantly. You turned to the other side of the field, and with a shaky breath, gave it a half hearted throw. 

Another moment of shock spread throughout the field as the ball made contact with Taehyung, who doubled over with a pained groan. Even though you had barely thrown the ball, it had shot out of your hand like a bullet, almost pushing you off your own feet and slamming into Taehyung’s torso. 

There was a moment of silence as you all watched Taehyung push himself upright, a slight wince overtaking his features at the effort. Distantly you wondered if there was a nasty bruise spreading through his stomach under his shirt at this very moment. 

Then Yoongi stepped forward, plucking a ball from the ground and chucking it to the other side of the field where it came in contact with Cheonsa’s arm.

You all watched him grimace.

And just like that, the game continued once again. Every hit had someone groaning or doubling over in pain or giving Mr. Son the nastiest glare in existence. 

By the end of it, everyone was covered in blood and bruises. You almost dropped to the ground with a relieved sigh when you finally heard the bell go off, immediately dropping the dodgeball in your hand as if it were made of hot iron. You could feel nasty cuts and bruises spreading up your torso and left arm, the pain making you wince.

After surveying the field tiredly, you confirmed that everyone else at least looked alive. Well… aside from Seokjin. He had been hit the most, with purple bruises and blood scattering almost every part of his body that you could see. You watched Jimin check over him worriedly as Seokjin rested his hands on his knees with a pained grimace. 

“You,” Mr. Son suddenly said, causing everyone to flinch. When you turned to face him, you realised with horror that he was pointing one of his fingers in your direction. 

It was embarrassing to admit just how much you tensed at the attention. But really, what more could he possibly want from you? 

Mr. Son nodded his head in Seokjin’s direction before looking down at you once again, “take that five year old over there to the nurse.”

You briefly looked over at Seokjin, an anger flaring throughout your body. Of course Mr. Son would make you, the only girl, take Seokjin to the nurse instead of his literal brother standing right next to him. But as much as you wanted to stand up to Mr. Son and give him a piece of your mind, you had no intention of pushing him past his limits. You had seen enough today, and all you really wanted now was to get as far away from him as humanly possible. 

So without another word, you walked up to Seokjin and grabbed his sleeve, afraid that grabbing his wrist might hurt him even more, before you dragged him towards the nurse’s station. 

Mr. Son turned to the remaining boys, “get yourselves cleaned up.” 

“And if I hear you got blood anywhere in the classrooms, dodgeball will be the least of your worries.”

-

-

-

You’d spent the entire journey to the healing bay dragging a wincing Seokjin behind you, your mood completely ruined by Mr. Son. Seokjin didn’t say anything, just quietly letting you drag him along.

That left the two of you sitting in the healing bay, Seokjin sitting on one of the beds and you leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, while you both waited for the healer to arrive. You’d reasoned that since you were already here, you might as well get some healing potion for your own cuts and bruises, even if it meant having to be in his presence for a bit longer. 

A sudden vibration from your pocket caught your attention, making you reach into it and pull out your phone. You inwardly groaned at the name that appeared on the screen, not because of who it was, rather what it likely meant. 

Confirmation that your suspicions were right came when you skimmed the string of texts from Jisoo quickly, your lips downturning into a grimace. 

Jisoo: Hey kid, your father wants me to pick you up after school. You’re going to be spending the weekend at home. 

Jisoo: I’m sorry, I tried to get you out of it but you know how stubborn your father is…

You dropped your phone into your pocket with a tired sigh, crossing your arms over your chest once again. You were hoping that you could spend the weekend at your dorm, far away from your home, just the way you liked it, but it seemed like that had only been wishful thinking. Of course your father would never leave you alone, that would be asking for too much. 

At least you would get to meet your mother. 

The thought brought a smile to your face, even if it mostly was a sad one. It pained you that the thought of your mother had become so bittersweet, yet that was the reality you lived in. A familiar anger had your hands curling into fists by your side as you thought of the reason why.

But you immediately unfurled them while shaking your head, attempting to calm the mixture of feelings cluttering around your mind. Instead, you tried to focus your thoughts on something else, gaze straying around the room to aid you in the effort. 

They ended up landing on your arm, and you couldn’t help but rotate it slowly to observe the angry blotches of purple and blue scattering the once unblemished skin. 

How could Mr. Son treat his students like that? And not only did he do it, but he seemed to enjoy it as well. Your arm dropped to your side as a breathy scoff left your lips. He was just another example of a man abusing his position of power. And you were no stranger to those, having grown up surrounded by them constantly. 

Out of the corner of your eye you suddenly noticed Seokjin’s gaze studying you, and you got the feeling he’d been doing it this entire time. But the moment you met his gaze, he was quick to look away and instead focus on the ground before him. It made you narrow your eyes.

“What?” You asked, causing him to widen his eyes in surprise, “if you have something to say to me, just say it.”

His gaze dropped to the floor once again, and it was then that you remembered that he couldn’t speak.

You watched him shift in his seat before taking out his phone, his fingers working expertly over the screen to type something. Your eyebrows furrowed when he seemingly finished whatever it was he was writing and passed the phone over to you. 

‘I’m sorry,’ it read. You looked up from the screen to take in his nervous expression.

“For what?” You asked. 

He took his phone back, typing over the screen once again.

‘For not thanking you when you saved me yesterday from those students.’

That made you pause. You’d quickly forgotten about the incident that happened yesterday, but now that it was being brought up again, in this way, it surprised you.

‘I’m really grateful that you stood up for me when no one else did,’ he continued. 

You shifted in your place as an odd feeling began to spread through your chest. It was entirely unfamiliar, too filled with warmth and guilt. You tried to shove it away, wanting nothing more than for it to be gone. 

“Do you always let everyone walk all over you?” You commented, but it didn’t have nearly as much bite as you had wanted it to.

Instead of getting offended, Seokjin just shrugged, ‘I don’t have much of a choice. It’s hard to stand up for yourself when you can’t even speak up.’

“Men are always so keen on getting aggressive all the time,” you countered, raising an eyebrow at him, “why didn’t you just lay one on them?”

Seokjin wrinkled his nose, as if the thought made him uncomfortable, ‘I don’t know about others, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.’

You hated the pang of sympathy you felt at his words. If he didn’t want to be aggressive, then he didn’t exactly have many other ways to defend himself. If he used his phone to tell them off, then it would just be a new target for them to make fun of. If someone else stood up for him, then they’d think that he was hiding behind others like a coward. It really was a difficult position to be in. 

‘Anyways,’ he texted, noticing your sudden silence, ‘I just didn’t want you to think I was ungrateful.’

It was an odd sight, seeing a man actually be apologetic towards you. Most of the ones in your life were arrogant to the point that sometimes you wondered if they even saw you as human. Honestly, you didn’t even know it was still possible for them to even say it, yet here Seokjin was, so casually apologising to you when, when you really thought about it, it wasn’t entirely his fault since he couldn’t speak. 

A silence followed as you tried to come up with something to say, but all you could do was hold his gaze in the dimly lit healing bay. He was still sat on one of the beds, knees spread slightly so that his hands could rest easily between them. For the first time since you met him, you noticed that there were miniscule specks of pink swimming in the violet of his irises, just barely visible even with the proximity created by the small size of the healing bay. It made his eyes seem like they were sparkling, even under the room’s dimness.

There was something else in his eyes too, a look that the logical part of you couldn’t seem to decipher. But a small, naive part of you emerged from the forgotten depths of your mind, attributing the look to genuine remorse. You refused to believe that, yet you still couldn’t help feeling guilty. 

Your lips moved before your mind could approve. 

“I’m sorry too.”

This time the silence was deafening, but only because your shock seemed to weigh down on your lungs. 

Why the hell did you say that? Sure you felt a little guilty, but apologising… to him? What were you doing?

If you had been paying attention, you would have noticed Seokjin’s wide eyes and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. However, the only thing you were paying attention to was pushing yourself off the wall. Forget the healing potions, you’ll come back some other time, when Seokjin wasn’t sitting there making you say things you would normally never even dream of saying. 

Without giving him a glance, you quickly scurried out of the room, not noticing Seokjin’s tiny smile, before entering into the main hall. The sight of the Tree of Life was becoming more familiar by the day, just like the students that were chatting with each other as they started making their way to the dining hall. 

The openness of the hall compared to the small room you had just emerged from seemed to calm you, making it a lot easier to breathe and think clearly about the last few moments. You couldn’t believe you had just apologised to someone like him. Perhaps it had something to do with the expression he’d given you, one that looked suspiciously akin to guilt, which had in turn contagiously spread to yourself as well.

But why had he even apologised in the first place? There was no way someone like him was genuinely apologetic, you weren’t so dumb as to fall for something like that. So what exactly was his intention behind that move?

You toyed around with different ideas as you strolled across the hall, playing with the strap of your bookbag and casually watching the students milling around. Your form manoeuvred through them expertly, just barely missing one student’s flailing hand and another’s ill-placed shoe.

But just as you sidestepped to avoid an especially excited student, you came to an abrupt stop, a thought striking you all of a sudden.

What if he was trying to manipulate you?

What if he had only apologised to soften the walls you’d spent years building between yourself and the opposite sex? The reason for that could be endless: to hurt you, to get in your pants, etc. You were disappointed in yourself for falling for it, for even going so far as to give him an apology back. What had you been thinking? How could you have crumbled so easily?

You turned your head to the side, crossing your arms in frustration. Well if he thought he’d succeeded, he was dead wrong. You made a mental note to stay extra cautious in Seokjin’s presence, making sure you would never fall for his facade again. 

A shoulder suddenly bumped into yours, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes immediately landed on the girl responsible, who apologised instantly before walking towards the Tree of Life and plopping down on the stone at its base to chat with her friend. Your gaze automatically dropped to her shoes, which were sitting atop the exact place where the trap door Cheonsa had shown you was. The door itself blended into the floor, so well that even you, who knew where it was, could just barely make out its edges. 

The sight of it reminded you of last night with Cheonsa, which made you further remember its disastrous end. You wondered what Ms. Kari had even been doing down in the lab in the first place. From what you could remember, she’d spoken on the phone about planning… tasks? And then she’d also said something about needing a layout of some sort? You couldn’t be certain of the context of anything she’d said that night, but what you were certain about was that it had been a miracle that she hadn’t recognised you or Cheonsa. You had been terrified walking into her class this morning, but she had greeted you both in the same manner as everyone else, so it didn’t seem like she was onto you. 

“And why the hell would I care?” You heard a familiar voice say, interrupting your thoughts.

Speak of the devil…

Your eyes travelled around the hall, searching for the infamous purple-haired twin who owned the familiar voice. You eventually found him standing near the intricately designed wall a few metres away from you, facing Hannah with a challenging brow raised in her direction. Hannah simply glared at him, a ring of scattered books and papers surrounding her feet. 

“You’re the one that bumped into me and dropped all my books,” she snapped, having to stare up at him since she was at least a head shorter, “the least you could do is pick them up you jerk.”

Cheonsa simply tilted his head, seeming almost bored, “and what if I don’t feel like it, hm? What’ll you do about it, shortie?”

“Shortie?!” She repeated, indignant, “Excuse me?! You’re not so tall yourself Park Cheonsa!”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but at least I don’t have to look up to people when I talk to them.”

You rolled your eyes at his clearly inciting words, remembering last night once again. He had done the same to you, prodded you left and right just to rile you up with an amused smirk. He clearly found teasing others fun. But there was something different about the way he acted now. Last night his expression had been full of sly grins and teasing chuckles, but now, as he faced Hannah, his expression was devoid of any such things. Instead, his eyes were narrowed at her while his lips were pulled into an unamused line. 

“How dare you-?!” She began, and you knew she was about to give him a piece of her mind. But then another voice cut her off, this one more calm and lower in pitch. 

“Cheonsa,” Jimin spoke, walking over to the two. And to your surprise, his expression lacked any of the mirth he usually tortured you with, replaced entirely by a serious scowl. It was particularly directed to Cheonsa, and even you could read the message it held loud and clear: ‘cut it out.’ 

Wow, who knew your roommate had a serious side?

“Park Jimin?!” Hannah marvelled incredulously, eyes almost popping out of their sockets as she looked him up and down like he was a seven course meal. She was starstruck for a few moments, just standing there and taking him in, before she seemed to realise the position she was in. In a matter of a second her tough exterior crumbled, her initially furrowed brows and downturned lips crumbling along with it. 

“I’m so glad you’re here! I didn’t know what to do!” She whined, suddenly completely helpless, “he’s the one that bumped into me and now he’s making fun of my height!”

Cheonsa rolled his eyes, evidently unfazed by her complete change of character, “you didn’t seem to have a problem with telling me off a second ago.”

“You little-” She began to counter angrily, but then her gaze snapped to Jimin and she quickly switched back to her helpless facade, “I mean- how could you say that?! You’re so mean to me, Park Cheonsa!”

Jimin’s lips formed a thin line, gaze travelling between his twin brother and the grey-eyed girl before him. He sighed, choosing instead to bend down and pick up Hannah’s scattered books and papers. 

A smile spread on her lips at the gesture, “thank you, Jimin, you’re so sweet!”

Cheonsa was also smiling, but his was a mixture of malice and amusement, “you missed a spot. Tell me, how much is the school paying you to be their janitor, Jimin?”

If looks could kill, Cheonsa would have been a pile of ash from the dirty glare Hannah was drilling into his head. That was until Jimin stood once again and handed her the books and papers he had collected, turning her glare into a bright and appreciative smile. 

The action was followed by an awkward silence, as if she was expecting him to say something more, but both Jimin and Cheonsa stood silently, almost entirely mirror images of each other. When Hannah realised that neither of them were going to speak, she shifted uncomfortably with an embarrassed laugh. 

“Well, I should get going. I’ll see you later, Jimin!” She said, giving him a small wave before she turned around and began walking away, and thanks again for the help!”

Neither brother spoke even when she had left the hall, opting instead to study the other with unamused expressions. Eventually, it was Cheonsa who broke the silence.

“Park ‘I can do no wrong’ Jimin,” he said sarcastically, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets, “thank god you were here in time before my big bad self could harm her.”

Jimin just sighed tiredly, “first the incident in the dining hall earlier today, and now this. I wonder if you ever feel even a sliver of empathy for the people you hurt.”

“Hmmm,” Cheonsa pretended to think, placing a finger on his chin to really sell it, before he shrugged nonchalantly, “nope, I sleep like a baby every night.”

Jimin’s jaw ticked.

“Of course you do. Hurting others comes naturally to you after all.”

“The same way being a doormat comes naturally to you,” Cheonsa countered without missing a beat. 

The twins stared each other down, Jimin’s gaze fiery while Cheonsa’s was full of amusement. They stood like that for a moment, before it was Jimin’s turn to break the tension with a heavy sigh. 

“Whatever, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment, “just leave others alone, you can’t just go around and hurt whoever you feel like.”

Without waiting for a response, Jimin turned around and disappeared behind the giant double doors. You watched Cheonsa stand for a few seconds, gaze fixed on the doors Jimin had disappeared behind with an unreadable expression, before he disappeared in the opposite direction. 

Well… that was quite the show. You never knew that the Park twins were on bad terms, but that piece of information didn’t seem to surprise you. They were so different from each other, unlike the eerie similarities in their appearances, that their enmity towards each other kind of made sense. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called. 

Your gaze dropped on Amelia, who was walking into your line of sight with a big smile that you returned. 

“Oh hey, Amelia” you greeted, adjusting the strap of your book bag, “did you want to go get lunch together now?”

“Of course!” She said, nodding her head enthusiastically, “I’ve been thinking about it all throughout class.”

That made you raise an eyebrow.

“Oh? So you’re telling me you haven’t been paying attention in class?” You teased, raising a textbook you’d snagged from your bag to feign hitting her on the arm, “what would your parents say, huh?”

“Please,” she waved you off with a laugh, “missing one lesson won’t kill me.”

Then she grabbed your arm, looping it around hers before she began dragging you towards the dining hall. 

“Now come on, I’m starving.”

-

-

-

Your break with Amelia had ended up being filled with smiles and laughs, the two of you seeming to click almost instantly. She’d told you about how her father was a CEO of some kind of tourist company and stories of travelling the world because of it, while you had in turn told her about your own parents. To your relief, she didn’t seem to make a big deal out of it, instead nodding her head with a surprised expression on her face before moving the topic along. 

You were glad to have made her a friend, especially considering you didn’t have any friends your age in general. 

“What’s got you smiling so widely?” 

You groaned inwardly, your smile instantly melting off your face at the unfortunately familiar sound of Namjoon’s voice. You turned around to find him walking onto the field you were currently standing on, eyeing you with a raised brow.

After spending your break with Amelia, the rest of the day had gone by in a blur. Had it been your choice, you would have locked yourself in your dorm’s bedroom watching a funny TV show and eating some nice buttery popcorn, but after the text Jisoo had sent you earlier, you’d been forced to pack a bag with your school work and trudge reluctantly to the field you had played dodgeball in earlier that day. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked with a frown, refocusing back on him, “don’t you have someone else to bother with your porcupine hair?”

“You’re one to talk,” he scoffed instantly, “not even a rat would make a nest out of whatever's on your head.”

“What do you want, Namjoon?” 

His gaze strayed to casually scan the rest of the field, as if he were searching for something, “believe it or not, I’m not here for you. I’m waiting for Suho, he’s going to pick me up.”

Your gaze instantly snapped to him, a sinking feeling in your chest at his words.

“Wait,” you said slowly, hoping you were mistaken, “here? He said he’ll pick you up from here? This spot exactly?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon answered, his answer also slow as the realisation seemed to dawn on the two of you at the same time. 

Whenever you and Namjoon got picked up together, it meant-

“He’s coming with us,” Jisoo finished as she suddenly appeared in your line of sight. 

You turned your head to give her an incredulous look, taking in her short, dark brown hair, lightly done makeup, and brown eyes. Like always, she was dressed in a professional and expensive-looking navy suit, while the click of her heels was muffled by the lush green grass.

“What do you mean he’s coming with us?” You asked, an evident whine in your voice, “I thought father was making me stay home for the weekend?”

“And you are,” she nodded, “but your father invited Namjoon over for the weekend as well.”

Great, you thought bitterly. 

Jisoo must have noticed the change in your expression, because she gave you an encouraging smile, “come on, kid. This is far from the first time your father has invited him over.”

“I’ve been seeing Namjoon’s face for two days straight, Jisoo,” you grumbled, “I need a break from it… desperately.”

“I’m standing right here, you know?” Namjoon grumbled in a tone similar to yours, but you just waved him off. 

“Whatever.”

You turned back to Jisoo, “is there nothing you can do to kick him out of the weekend?”

Namjoon rolled his eyes as Jisoo shook her head apologetically.

“Sorry kid, whatever your dad says is law. I can’t-”

“Yooooo,” a male voice suddenly cut her off, causing all three of you to immediately flinch. You snapped your heads to Suho, who was wearing a black suit and sunglasses that made him look like some kind of special agent. His dark brown hair was slightly longer compared to the last time you’d seen him, while his once fair skin seemed tanner.

“What’s up guys?” He asked, his attitude exaggeratedly upbeat, “hope ya’ll weren’t waiting too long for me.”

“Suho, we didn’t see you there,” Jisoo said, surprise still present in her expression. 

“What’s up Jis’?” He said, the nickname instantly making you cringe, “I like the new cut my dude.”

“Really?” She asked, her characteristically professional front breaking for a moment to reveal a vomit-inducing lovestruck expression. It made you roll your eyes, knowing the kind, smart, and beautiful Jisoo standing before you could do so much better than someone like him. 

You targeted Namjoon with a narrowed gaze, as if it were his fault she was acting like this, “why is he speaking like that?”

Namjoon just sighed in response, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.

“He went on a trip to America, recently,” Namjoon explained with a sigh, “I don’t know how long he’s going to insist on being like this, but let’s hope it’s soon.”

“Nah bro, America was crazy fun,” Suho announced unnecessarily, “they’re so fashionable and chill.”

You gave Namjoon another look, “make him stop.”

“Trust me, I’ve already tried,” he said before turning to Jisoo, “why don’t we just get going?”

“Of course,” she said, that characteristically professional tone taking over her voice once again. “If you all will follow me into the portal.”

The three of you watched Jisoo walk into the centre of the cleared out field while she pulled out her wand from the holder at her waist, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between herself and the rest of you. Once she had done that, she raised her wand to wave it in front of her, the wooden stick making a circular shape in the air. In a matter of a second, an enormous burst of yellow light swirled before her, tiny sparkles hovering hesitantly away from it before dissipating into nothingness. 

Now that you were standing here, facing the blinding light of the portal before you, you were starting to notice that feeling of fear pressing down against your chest, making it slightly difficult to breathe. It was a familiar occurrence that always happened when you were about to go home… whenever you thought of who was waiting for you within the marble walls and glittering chandeliers. 

You took a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of the awful feeling, and focused instead on Jisoo’s back as it vanished behind the swirl of yellow and white. It’s not like you had a choice anyway, you were well aware that there was no point in running or trying to negotiate a later date. So after watching Namjoon, and then Suho, walk into the portal, you brushed your now sweaty palms over your skirt before closing your eyes. 

And then lost yourself in the light. 

Chapter 8: Batman

<< previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter >>

A/N: sorry if this isn’t that good, my motivation rn is 📉📉📉 I swear it’s not on purpose ☹️

Taglist: @honeybear-taetae

Chapter 8: Batman

Chapter 7 || Masterlist || Chapter 9

A/N: sorry if this isn’t that good, my motivation rn is 📉📉📉 I swear it’s not on purpose ☹️

Taglist: @honeybear-taetae

Chapter 9: Plottwist?

<< previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter >>

Taglist: @honeybear-taetae @pastelpeachess

Chapter 9: Plottwist?

Chapter 8 || Masterlist || Chapter 10

Taglist: @honeybear-taetae @pastelpeachess

Fool's Gold || Part I

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

<< masterlist || next part >>

“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”

Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook. 

Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises. 

On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month. 

When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence. 

“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”

He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again. 

“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence. 

“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”

Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”

Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”

He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously. 

“I don’t know.”

Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again. 

“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”

“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”

“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”

“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?” 

Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”

Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him. 

“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.

“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”

Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”

Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer. 

“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.

Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”

Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery. 

At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now. 

Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love. 

Only power. 

The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white. 

You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands. 

The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle. 

To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did. 

He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too. 

He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin. 

Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head. 

A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone. 

Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him. 

Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.

As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you. 

You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month. 

The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.

Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof. 

Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there. 

Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.

To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words. 

At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be. 

Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention. 

A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 

So he tried not to be unsettled. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground. 

He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.

Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?

-

-

-

The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance. 

The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him. 

It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.

Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely. 

There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax. 

He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat. 

The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids. 

“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”

The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly. 

Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.

“Well?” He prodded. 

Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”

Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”

“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought. 

“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly. 

“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on. 

“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”

Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”

Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”

“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. 

Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding. 

It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons. 

Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two. 

“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”

The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.

“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”

Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.

“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”

To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them. 

Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”

Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information. 

“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant. 

Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful. 

A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open. 

The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead. 

Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space. 

The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you. 

You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance. 

You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well. 

“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him. 

Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her. 

“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now. 

His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed. 

Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights. 

“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee. 

Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?

“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze. 

Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other. 

But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything. 

“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well. 

You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief. 

He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”

You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne. 

He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous. 

“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”

You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak. 

Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster. 

Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side. 

It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands. 

“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?

He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later. 

“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway. 

“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment. 

He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”

But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again. 

“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”

Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you. 

You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him. 

A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer. 

His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.

His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look. 

Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.

Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud. 

“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes. 

Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink. 

“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.

But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions. 

“Jungko-”

Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold. 

“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.

Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form. 

“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest. 

“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.

 “P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air. 

Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke. 

“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout. 

Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now. 

“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.

You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression. 

He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation. 

“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more. 

“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”

Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”

You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”

Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”

But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous. 

“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability. 

“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”

The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.

“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow. 

Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.

Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”

You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.

“I want a divorce.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it. 

It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment. 

You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.

“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.

Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.

“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”

Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.

Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly. 

“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump. 

You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone. 

“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”

He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”

Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”

It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak. 

“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”

You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him. 

And that was something he needed to make sure you knew. 

“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”

Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”

“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick. 

“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”

Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation. 

It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare. 

He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.

“Good, then we’re done here.”

He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.

“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”

Jungkook tilted his head in response. 

“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”

Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”

He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.

Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony. 

Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing. 

His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze. 

What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness. 

But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce. 

Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.

You were quite the enigma.

But he was going to enjoy the challenge.  

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!

Fool's Gold || JJK

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

Parts Index:

Part 1 | 10k

Part 2 | 10.2k

Part 3 | 15.5k

Part 4 | coming soon…

Fool's Gold || Part II

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), very vague indication of past sexual assault, additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

A/N: thank you guys so much for all the love you gave the first part, it means so much to me 🥺 Hope you enjoy this chapter too (Y/N and Jungkook bicker for like half of it 💀)

<< previous part || masterlist || next part >>

It was supposed to be simple. 

You kill Jungkook, breaking up the alliance between the Lees and the Jeons, blame his murder on a rival mafia, and then be on your merry way back to your father’s home before you could be caught up in the chaos you’d have started. Sure it hadn’t been the most complex of plans you’ve come up with, you hardly had the time to map out a plan like that anyway, but sometimes simple was all one needed. 

Unfortunately, this had clearly not been one of those times. 

The problem was Jungkook. Your first husband had been an idiot and completely fooled by your featherbrained facade, so much so that even after you’d stolen the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest he’d stared at you like you’d grown two heads. He just couldn’t comprehend the fact that a seemingly frivolous girl could have the courage to pull the trigger. Even after what he’d tried to do to you. After he almost-

You felt a shudder sweep across your spine.

But Jungkook was different. He had been assessing you the second you appeared before him during the wedding ceremony and, even though he had seemed to take in your carefully crafted performance, his gaze still refused to complete its assessment. At first you thought it was just lust -most men in the mafia couldn’t seem to be rid of that tenacious emotion- however, the lack of sexual initiation on his part despite being alone together in his room made you realise that perhaps Jungkook was a lot less like the mafia leaders you had grown up with than you realised. 

For one, he was scarily observant, and it was this skill that had ultimately led to the downfall of your assassination attempt. 

A huff escaped your lips at the thought, your hands continuing to expertly manoeuvre two pins inside the lock of the door you were currently crouched in front of. You had stayed sat on Jungkook’s bed the entire night, too wary to even attempt sleeping in the bedroom that was entirely unfamiliar to you. You half expected Jungkook to sneak into the room while you were out cold and enact a fitting revenge; you’d be unable to even blame him, you’d tried to kill the man after all. But Jungkook hadn’t left the mystery room all night, only emerging once the clock had struck 7 in the morning to wordlessly grab a black coat from the top of his dresser and disappear behind the front door with nothing but a single, hasty glance in your direction. 

Your brow had raised as you watched him get into his black car and drive off through the window, wondering how he could just leave you unattended in his home after the threat you had dropped near the end of your conversation earlier. Sure he probably had people monitoring his house at all times, but there was still a lot you could get done in front of people that wouldn’t suspect the girl with fluffy dresses and doe eyes to be much of a threat. 

Luckily for him though, you were beyond tired, and that meant that his absence was just a window of opportunity to get some actual rest without the constant fear of his retaliation keeping you awake. So following a long yawn, you had naturally felt yourself drift towards the bed, eyeing the soft duvet and fluffy pillows sleepily. But then, before you could lose yourself to the comfort of his mattress, your curious gaze had slowly wandered to the door Jungkook had disappeared behind last night and, next thing you knew, you were crouched in front of its gold lock and jabbing two pins into its keyhole. 

Your focus snapped back to the door before you as a familiar click sounded from the lock, causing it to swing open just a few centimetres. You pocketed the two pins, muttering a small “finally...” while your fingers wrapped around the gold handle. But before you could push it open, the muffled sound of an object dropping suddenly startled you. You whirled around, eyes immediately scanning the bedroom with intense precision as your hand grabbed the closest thing to you: a vase. Had someone managed to get into the room without you knowing? Perhaps you weren’t as observant as Jungkook seemed to be, but you’ve never been so absentminded that you could’ve been this caught off guard-

“Oh my god,” you gasped abruptly, a recollection surfacing as you quickly placed the vase back on the bedside table and scurried over to the closet. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten something so important… She must have been waiting in there the entire night.

You hastily threw open the closet door, gaze scanning the space until it finally fell on a small shadow peeking from behind the white and fawn island. The black shadow stood still for a moment, as if identifying the intruder, before the familiar cat sauntered out of the small space, black fur gleaming under the light. She looked up at you with an expression that eerily resembled a scowl. 

“Hi Persilla,” you cooed, crouching down to run a hand apologetically through the creature’s fur. Persilla evaded it at first, almost punishing you for forgetting her in the small, dark walk-in closet for the entire night, but eventually she gave in, purring as she brushed her soft tail against your still bare legs. While you could understand being stuck in a place like that for hours might’ve been slightly uncomfortable, she really had no right to act like that after how damn hard it had been to have her smuggled into Jungkook’s house without alerting anyone. It had been a huge risk, one that you might have a little trouble justifying, but you swear there was just something calming about her presence and you needed that desperately, especially in such a foreign place. 

“I failed to kill him,” you frowned, watching as Persilla’s feline eyes raised to watch you, “which means we’re going to have to stay here a little longer than I thought.”

You pulled yourself from the floor, shifting your focus back to Jungkook’s mystery room as you felt a pang of irritation hit you. You needed Jungkook dead, the delay in his death getting in the way of everything you’ve been working towards. Yet here you were now, stuck in the house you thought you wouldn’t be spending more than a night in. 

You cautiously walked over to the door you’d lock picked earlier, taking special care not to step on Persilla as she skittered between your feet, before grabbing the handle and pushing it open. The room turned out to be a seemingly simple office, which you found unsurprising for the most part. There was a wall full of books on one side, a glass cabinet of liquor wedged between its centre, while another wall was made up entirely of glass that showed off an enormous portion of Jungkook’s estate. It was the large desk to your right that really caught your attention, the sight of a map sprawled over its smooth surface particularly piquing your interest. 

You walked towards the glass cabinet first, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to pour yourself a drink, before you walked over to the desk and glanced at the map curiously. Persilla jumped onto the surface, circling the piece of paper like a predator surveying its prey. 

“It’s a map of the North,” you noted, taking a sip of the drink in your hand momentarily as you recognised the illustration instantly. You’d spend months studying a similar map back home before marrying Jungkook after all.

Handmade lines ran throughout the northern portion of the country, separating the territories run by different mafia leaders. You recognised Jungkook’s territory first, one of the bigger ones in the region, while Taehyung’s was right next to his, both of which were detailed with the locations of different landmarks: docks, hotels, residential areas, etc. You noticed that the other territories hadn’t been labelled like that, with the territory above Jungkook’s labelled “Park Territory” simply containing one or two locations and the territory labelled “Min Territory” containing no locations. There was a region above those two territories that hadn’t even been labelled at all, similar to your own map of the North back at home. 

“Aside from Taehyung’s territory, Jungkook doesn’t seem to know much about the northern region. I guess we’re similar in that aspect,” you muttered, speaking to Persilla as if you were giving her a report of the current situation. She turned towards you, tilting her head for a moment before she nudged the corner of the paper with her paw. You narrowed your gaze at the action, deciding to flip the paper. To your surprise there was another map, this time illustrating the southern portion of the country; the one where your father’s territory, the Lees, was situated and where you’d grown up your entire life. 

You smiled at Persilla, scratching under her chin while she purred in delight at the attention. What would you do without her?

It was surprising to see this map so much more detailed than the first, you thought, taking another sip of the whiskey in your hand. While Taehyung’s territory had been the only one littered with details in the northern region, all the territories in the South were full of details upon details. You could make out each one labelled with its respective mafia leader, a number of important locations, and even predictions about possible actions each leader might take in the future, all of which you could confirm to be highly accurate.

You flipped the map back to how it had been initially, gaze raising to move onto scanning the rest of the room while Persilla dropped to the floor quietly.

“How could Jungkook know so little about the northern region, yet so much about the South?” You thought out loud, tracking Persilla’s movements as she began pacing around the room. He was clearly great at collecting intel, the amount of information he had on the southern region was evidence of that, yet the North, his own region, was practically blank aside from Taehyung’s territory. Having grown up in the southern region yourself, you knew it better than the back of your hand. So if Jungkook had grown up in the North, how could he know so little about it? Was there some kind of history between the mafias in the North? 

Like your thoughts, you began absentmindedly drifting towards the enormous bookshelf, fingers brushing against the hardcover spines. 

If there really was history between the northern mafias, then knowing that history could be useful. Once you killed Jungkook and blamed his death on Park Jimin, there would be war between the Jeons and the Parks, and since the Kims and Mins are allied with the Jeons and Parks, respectively, it would be a full on war of the North. It’s that kind of instability you were aiming for, but knowing the more personal history of the northern mafias might help you create further tensions between the alliances, making things even more unstable. It would be perfect; the messier the better. That’s what your ultimate plan called for. That’s how you’ll finally-

You suddenly came to an abrupt stop, your fingers freezing as they came in contact with a particular book. It was a hardcover, just like the others, entirely black aside from the title, which had been written in bright gold, and the off-white pages. 

Persilla was back to skittering between your ankles once again, as if sensing the change in your thoughts. Her soft, black tail brushed against your bare legs as you delicately brought out the book with both your hands, wide eyes scanning it almost in disbelief. 

The Choice of a Nation.

It was the book that had changed your life. A fictitious book about a protagonist that lived in a world of human rights, justice, and structure. A world where everyone, more or less, was defined by their achievements and hard work rather than who they were born to. 

Reality was far from that. It was an enormous country cut up into territories based on which mafia leader ruled it. It was having to grow up watching innocent people be slaughtered because of petty disputes between said mafia leaders. It was watching people from mafia families be automatically rich and educated and powerful while people born to those under their rule automatically be poor, uneducated, and stepped on again and again and again. You were taught that this way of living was normal, that it was the only way of living in this world. 

Reality was something you’ve always found difficult to come to terms with because of this, because despite being taught the normalcy of such a way of living, it never seemed right to you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of people’s entire lives being dependent on who they were born to, something that wasn’t in their control. If you were born a servant, you and the rest of your generations would stay servants forever. If you were born a mafia leader, you and your future generations would stay in power forever. Your sentiments made you feel alien when you realised no one else around you seemed to share the same thoughts, so much so that you started wondering that perhaps you really were being too unrealistic. 

But then came The Choice of a Nation, a book that introduced to you concepts like governments and elections and courts. It was all entirely fiction, every term having to be explained in great detail to be understandable, but all that mattered to you was that it was doable. Having different levels of governments, having a justice system that judged everyone fairly no matter who they were, and having the people decide who they want leading them. It was realistic. 

And you’re convinced that the mafia families knew it too, because despite its fictitious nature, the book was immediately banned the second it was published, while its author had been killed just as quickly. You yourself had only gotten your hands on the book out of sheer dumb luck. Distantly you wondered how and why Jungkook had this copy. 

After that you had become dead set on making the book’s world a reality. But in order for things to go as you’ve planned, you need things to be unstable, because unstable things are weak. The South has always been like that, with mafia leaders constantly at each other’s throats. You doubt any of them even know what the word ‘alliance’ even means. It was perfect for you. 

The North, on the other hand, was a bit different. There were two alliances and the most northern region was a complete mystery to you. At first, you were stumped with how you were going to weaken the region, but then the opportunity had presented itself when your father had announced your hasty marriage to Jungkook. And once again, it was perfect. 

All you needed was Jungkook to be dead, and the rest would fall in place just like you’d planned. 

A meowing noise suddenly sounded from your feet, causing you to look down and find Persilla standing on her hind legs, her front paws brushing against your bare shins repeatedly. Her impatience was clear as day, making you smile. 

“You’re right, that’s enough snooping for today I think,” you nodded, running a hand over her small head while the other clutched the book firmly, “you deserve some expensive salmon for being such a good girl.”

As if she understood your words, Persilla dropped to the floor and purred, rubbing her furry body against your ankle. You gave the room one last look, as if expecting to find something else worth surveying, but ultimately decided you were way too tired from your all-nighter to continue on. 

-

-

-

At this point in his life, Jungkook could say with certainty that he was a pretty patient man. He wasn’t born with the trait, if anything impatience seemed to have been stitched well into his personality the second he’d entered this world. But, over time, he’d learned to get rid of the pesky trait and replace it with the much more effective and fruitful quality that was patience. 

Yet, not even all those years of cultivating the characteristic could have prepared him for how late Kim Taehyung was. 

Jungkook had been standing at the West docks, hands in the pockets of his long, black coat, since 8:00 AM in the morning, waiting almost 4 hours for his friend with furrowed brows and an unimpressed frown. He’d left the house as early as appropriately possible, partly because of your presence and partly because of the urgency in addressing the dock’s issue. Now it was almost noon and Taehyung, who’d promised to be here by 9:00 AM was still nowhere in sight. 

An annoyed sigh escaped his lips as he felt the ocean air breeze through the nearly black strands of his hair. Taehyung being late had given him more time to think about earlier this morning, when he’d shot you a glance before he was out the front door. You looked like you hadn’t slept a wink, which Jungkook could relate to, but he supposed that was for the best. You’d threatened to kill him at the end of your conversation last night, so having you sleep deprived would probably work in his favour. 

Not that you could really do anything anyway. Jungkook had made sure to set guards in every entrance to the kitchen and stripped the house of every weapon that wasn’t locked in a hefty safe. There was no way you could get your hands on any kind of gun or knife, so he was pretty confident that you couldn’t be a threat to him at the moment. Though, the memory of your fiery eyes from last night had seemed so determined…

“What are you smirking about?” Taehyung asked as he strolled along the boardwalk, making his way towards the younger man. 

Jungkook’s scowl instantly returned, causing Taehyung to raise his hands in surrender, “it took Chaewon and I a whole hour to get Suho to bed, who’s also sick by the way. Cut me some slack, man.”

“I told you guys to stay over at my place and not some hotel,” Jungkook chastised, feeling bad for the little guy. He made a note to send some sweets to their hotel room when he got back, “the maid could have helped you guys out.”

“The newlyweds deserve to have the house to themselves,” Taehyung waved him off before he smirked, “besides, I didn’t know how freaky you guys were going to get and I couldn’t risk Suho hearing, he’s way too young for that stuff.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, motioning for Taehyung to start following him. They started walking along the boardwalk, Jungkook’s hands still shoved into his coat’s pockets while Taehyung’s were covered in black leather gloves. 

“Okay,” Taehyung said, “I’m just going to ask one question, and then we’ll drop it and you can explain this whole dock’s situation to me.”

That earned him a raised brow, but the lack of the younger’s refusal spurred him on. 

“What do you think of her?”

Jungkook didn’t answer for a moment, mulling over his reply before he finally answered. 

“She’s fine.”

He didn’t know why he wasn’t telling Taehyung the truth about you, about how your entire ditzy personality was a front and about how hellbent you were on killing him to get a divorce. Maybe it was because he didn’t really see the need to. Jungkook had concluded that you were only trying to kill him because you wanted a divorce, allowing you to go back to whichever boyfriend was waiting for you back in the south. 

“Your words are saying she’s fine, but your face is saying you’re mad,” Taehyung noted with a brow raised. But Jungkook waved him off, ready to end this conversation and get onto more important business. 

“Anyways, as you know, the Parks decided to attack the West docks last week,” Jungkook began, pointing towards his left to show Taehyung the damage sustained. One of the enormous warehouses, which collectively formed a neat line leading farther than his eye could decipher, had caved into itself, its walls charred almost entirely. The two warehouses by its side seemed more salvageable, with only a wall or two affected by the evident fire that had taken place. Construction workers could already be seen surrounding the area, hard at work to replace the damaged structures. 

Taehyung nodded as he took in the scene, “an attack at the docks… they’re checking to see how strong the Jeons are at the moment.”

“They’re doing it because they want to know if they can take over our territory.”

That was the standard protocol after all. When a mafia attacks another mafia’s docks, it’s usually because they want to test how weak or strong they are and whether they can take them over or not. The fact that the Parks pulled something like this right after their alliance with the Mins was no coincidence to Jungkook. 

But to his surprise, Taehyung paused, as if mulling over Jungkook’s words. He watched Taehyung’s gaze drift over to the vast sea on their right, a contemplative look shadowing over his eyes before they flickered back to Jungkook. 

“Is that really what you think Jimin is doing?” 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowned, “this is the textbook procedure for taking over another territory.”

When Taehyung didn’t answer him, Jungkook placed a hand in front of his chest, blocking his path so the two could stand facing each other as they spoke.

“I’m just saying,” Taehyung finally explained, “it seems a bit out of character for him. Wasn’t he always the one that was going on about how dumb it is to want to take over other territories instead of cultivating your own?”

Jungkook scoffed, “yeah, in university, which was years ago. Jimin has changed since then.”

Taehyung’s lips formed a grim line at the animosity in his voice. 

“Look, I know you both-”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off quickly, knowing exactly where this conversation was going, “this isn’t the hatred from what happened years ago talking. Jimin has changed, and I have the evidence to prove it.”

Jungkook turned around to resume his earlier path, Taehyung walking slowly behind him as they passed by the workers sighing in relief at the cool breeze of the ocean and large ships anchored alongside the piers. In a matter of minutes, Jungkook had led him to the entrance of an enormous warehouse. Taehyung’s brows furrowed when Jungkook turned around to face him, a grim expression washing over his strong features. 

“When the Parks attacked the docks last week, I managed to prevent them from seizing control of it by bringing out some old blackmail. Obviously I didn’t think it would hold them off for long if their plan really is to take over my territory, but I didn’t expect them to retaliate so soon,” Jungkook explained, “nor did I expect them to retaliate in this way.”

He turned back to face the warehouse's door, hand wrapping around its handle, “the night before my wedding, I was called to the docks because some of the worker’s had found something in this warehouse.”

Then he turned the handle and pushed the door wide open, revealing its inside.

“This is what I found.”

It was awful. 

The entire warehouse was full of dead bodies, some thrown haphazardly on the ground while others were thrown over the equipment spanning the room. Taehyung could make out bodies of men, women, and even some children -he couldn’t look at them for too long without thinking of his own son- all of which had clearly been killed in varying ways. Some looked like they had been burned, while others looked like they’d been thrown into a blender. Being in the mafia, Taehyung was no stranger to blood and gore, but this… this was too much, even for him. 

But then his gaze caught onto a wall in the far corner of the warehouse, particularly the sight of dried blood smeared against the grey metal. He took in each stroke of red, processing each letter it had been made to resemble until he could read what had been written. 

“‘We’re coming,’” Jungkook read out loud, keeping his stoic gaze fixed on Taehyung. 

He shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, “I knew Yoongi was brutal, but I never could have expected he’d be capable of… this.”

Jungkook’s gaze drifted around the room, grimacing at the scene before him. 

“Jimin and Yoongi clearly aren’t who they used to be,” he concluded, looking towards Taehyung for confirmation. Thankfully, Taehyung nodded this time, gaze becoming hard as he agreed without protest. 

“Well, they’ve warned us that they’re coming,” he said, gesturing towards the bloody message, “what are we going to do about it?”

Jungkook motioned for Taehyung to follow him back outside, where the air didn’t smell like death and the sights didn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with one of the unaffiliated gangs located in the West in about an hour. As long as we pay them well, they’ll do just about anything for us. Having extra manpower should tip the odds in our favour. Not to mention, I’ll make good use of the Lees.”

Taehyung nodded as he watched Jungkook close the door of the warehouse, “are you going to contact Jimin first?”

“No,” he shook his head, beginning to walk back to the parking lot alongside Taehyung, “I’ve had a headcount done and it doesn’t seem like any of the people in the warehouse were one of ours. I think the Parks were just trying to send a message to scare us.”

“I’ll get a headcount done for my people too just in case,” Taehyung said, to which Jungkook agreed. 

Once they had made it back to the parking lot, Taehyung turned to face him.

“I was thinking of heading back to my territory tonight, since I have a few things I need to take care of,” he explained, opening the door of his bright orange car before leaning against it casually, “but Chaewon wanted to have a late lunch or dinner with the bride and groom before we left. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jungkook’s interest piqued as a thought suddenly came to mind. This would be a good opportunity to assess how you and him were going to act like a couple in front of others. If the two of you failed, it would be fine since it was just Taehyung and Chaewon, two people that he trusted with his life. Then you and him could learn from the experience and hopefully get it together before having to make any public appearances. 

“Does 6 work?” He asked, to which Taehyung nodded. 

The two then exchanged quick goodbyes, Taehyung explaining that he should probably get back as soon as possible to get things in order, before Jungkook watched as he got into his car and drove off, standing for a few minutes until someone came to stand behind him. 

“Sir?”

He turned to find a man bowing in his direction, waiting for permission to speak. Jungkook motioned for him to go on, already getting an idea of what this was about. 

“Our informant within the Lees just contacted us,” he explained, “he said that Lee Y/N’s father believes his daughter to be a frivolous and naive girl, her sole purpose being to marry someone that will benefit the Lees.”

Jungkook nodded at the news. So you had been telling the truth when you said that you’d fooled everyone, including your father, with your performance… Distantly he wondered why you would decide to resort to such an act. 

“Have there been any talks of betraying this alliance?” Jungkook asked, to which the man shook his head. 

“The informant said there were none. Lee Y/N’s father seems dependent on this alliance to protect himself from neighbouring mafias. The South is quite unsettled in that aspect.”

“I see, and have there been any talks of Y/N having some sort of significant other in the Lee territory?”

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment, “the informant said that there weren’t really any talks of that… but he did mention that before your marriage, when Lee Y/N was still living in the Lee territory, he’d accidentally overheard a hushed phone conversation she’d had in her bedroom. He couldn’t make out what they had been talking about, but he was able to confirm that the voice on the other line was male. The informant hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but since you’re asking now, he decided it would be safer to let you know just in case.”

It could have been anyone, hell, you could have been talking to a relative or something, but Jungkook’s mind went straight to his initial theory. It made sense, especially considering you wanted a divorce so badly. He couldn’t really think of any other reason besides your heart already belonging to someone else… even though you were his wife. 

“Sir? Was there anything else?” The man asked, causing Jungkook to reel in his scowl.

“Contact Lee Y/N’s father and schedule a meeting with him as soon as he can,” Jungkook said, “that’s all, thank you.”

The man bowed, instantly scurrying away from sight to get to the assigned task, while Jungkook turned to start making his way to his car. 

For some reason, his mood had suddenly soured. 

-

-

-

“So we finally get to meet the famous Y/N.”

You smiled shyly as you walked into the grand dining hall, automatically taking in the spiralling chandelier, marble floor, and dark brown dining table filled with formal decoration pieces. Only after this assessment did you let your gaze fall on the two sitting on the dining chairs; the first one you already knew to be Taehyung, who was dressed in a rich grey suit, while the other was a woman -you automatically assumed she was Taehyung’s wife considering the maid had told you you’d be dining with the two today. 

She had been the one that had spoken, but the first thing you noticed when your eyes landed on her was that she was gorgeous. Her straight, long black hair and hazel eyes sparkled under the glittering light of the chandelier overhead, while her dark maroon dress fit elegantly into the rich ambience of the room.

As she stood from her seat, you felt yourself automatically tense. Back in the South, the wives of mafia leaders were always vicious and constantly at each other's throats, a reflection of their husbands’ animosity towards each other. Now that you were married, you supposed you’d have to be subjected to the same, but the only difference was that your ditzy facade would bar you from being able to fight back. Whatever Taehyung’s wife threw at you, you’d have to take it. 

But after she made her way towards you, her actions as smooth as silk, you were surprised when she pulled you in for a quick and formal embrace. 

“The wedding was absolutely beautiful,” she praised, even the flow of her voice silk-like, “and of course your dress, it was exquisite! You must tell me the designer you went with- or perhaps it was all just your figure. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.”

For a moment all you could do was stare at her; this woman… she was being so… nice. Too nice, if you were being honest. It was a little unnerving, instantly making you sceptical of her intentions. Perhaps the wives of northern mafia leaders were more cunning in the way they sniped at each other? They greeted each other politely during occasions, but behind the scenes they would attack each other to obtain what they wanted? But then again, what could anyone possibly want from you? To them you were just some featherbrained girl that dressed like a fancy pastel tablecloth. 

You’d decided to still dress the part this evening, with a fluffy light pink dress that fell right at your knees and a matching silk ribbon tied into a bow pulling up half your hair, even if you didn’t know for sure how much Jungkook would have revealed to Taehyung. You had the feeling that Jungkook wouldn’t tell him anything, since it would work in his favour having the least amount of people knowing, but you’ve also heard how close the two men were so it wouldn’t entirely surprise you if he had.

Taehyung certainly was staring at you like he knew your secret. Unlike his wife, he stayed seated at the dining table, offering you a polite greeting from there instead, but you could recognise the calculating nature of his gaze as clear as day. He was assessing your every movement as you interacted with his wife, which made you straighten up. It wouldn’t be the biggest deal if he did know, because who would believe him if he went around spreading that kind of news, but if he didn’t, then you would have to up the quality of your act. 

“Has Jungkook told you anything about us?” Taehyung’s wife asked as she took the seat next to her husband once again, while you decided to take the seat across from her, “ah- who am I kidding? You’ve only been here a night. I’m Chaewon and this is Taehyung, he’s the leader of the Kims.”

You nodded, making sure to keep your voice light and airy, “you’re pretty.”

She tried to hide it well, but the comment had Chaewon’s eyes flickering to her husband for a moment. It was better that you started dropping a dumb comment here and there to really seal the ‘dumb as rocks’ trait. 

Chaewon quickly recovered from the surprise, letting out a breathy chuckle, “you’re sweet, but you’re so pretty yourself. I love the light sparkles you’ve added to your lids, it’s such a subtle but dainty thing.”

Her tone was so formal that you couldn’t tell if she was passively mocking you or not. You would’ve preferred she just pull a gun on you or something; it would be way less confusing than sitting here and trying to read between the lines of her words. Confrontational individuals were dangerous, but individuals who planned their strikes in the shadows were the real threats. You’d know that best.

At that moment, before you could reply with an even dumber comment, the sound of the door opening caught everyone’s attention. You turned just to catch Jungkook closing the door behind him, his hair slightly damp, likely from a shower, and dressed in a simple black collar shirt tucked into matching black dress pants. He paused at the doorway, scanning the room for a moment until his eyes dropped on you.

Your brows furrowed when he held your gaze for a second longer than normal, a hidden question in your expression. He looked almost thoughtful, an idea clearly waltzing through his mind, before he finally started making his way towards the three of you. 

You thought that was the end of the odd moment, and that Jungkook would finally initiate a conversation with the other two sitting at the table as he pulled out the chair next to you. But just as he was about to settle into the soft cushion, he stalled for a second, turned to face you…

And then placed a quick peck on your cheek.

You froze, shock making your limbs rigid as you used every bit of your self control to stop yourself from instinctively flinching at the action. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jungkook apologised as he casually plopped down into his seat, gaze fixing on the couple before you. 

But Chaewon smiled, a graceful hand going to her chest. 

“Aww look at how flustered she looks, aren’t they just adorable, Taehyung?” She said with a smile. Your hands instantly went to your cheeks, annoyed to find them burning underneath your palms. 

Before you could think much of it though, the servers started spilling into the room to place steaming plates of food before you all. This evening’s menu seemed to be seafood themed, with plates of crab, lobster, and shrimp filling the initially empty surface of the dark dining table. It made sense to you, considering almost half of Jungkook’s territory bordered the ocean. 

Once the plates had been placed, a server stepped beside you, bringing out a bottle of red wine to pour into the empty glass beside your plate. But you brought up a hand to stop him. 

“Not a fan of wine, Y/N?” Chaewon asked as she noticed the gesture, and once again the ambiguity in her formal tone made it hard to tell whether she was mocking you or not. 

You shook her head in response, “I don’t like alcohol, it tastes gross.”

Yes, ditzy Y/N didn’t like alcohol, but the real Y/N was seriously craving that expensive whiskey you knew Jungkook had stashed in his office at this very moment. He clearly had good taste, it was a shame you’d had to drop a gram of lethal toxin into the bottle before you’d left the room and passed out on Jungkook’s bed for nearly two hours. You scowled inwardly as you remembered how much more you could have slept had it not been for the maid who had woken you up to give you a tour of the house and then helped you get ready for the early dinner you and Jungkook were supposed to have with Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I apologise ma’am, is there anything else I can interest you in instead?” The server asked, moving the bottle of wine away from your glass. You mused over your answer for a moment, before you smiled up at him.

“I’d like some banana milk, please.”

Once again, Chaewon subtly threw an unreadable look towards Taehyung, but this time she wasn’t alone as Taehyung and Jungkook each threw their own odd looks in your direction at the wildly childish choice. Back when you first started acting naive your reaction would have consisted of an intense feeling of embarrassment washing over you, but now the others’ reactions only seemed to amuse you. Although, you were inwardly groaning at how gross having seafood alongside milk was going to be. But the show had to go on, didn’t it?

Taehyung cleared his throat when the server returned with a wine glass filled with banana milk -you had to pinch your arm to stop yourself from laughing at that- before he turned to face Jungkook, eager to break the awkward silence that had ensued. 

“I hope you both enjoyed your wedding present, Chaewon spent so long on making that gift basket I thought it was going to be for your one year anniversary,” he joked, causing Chaewon to playfully slap his shoulder. 

“I just wanted it to be nice,” she defended instantly, “we’ve known Jungkook for years, seeing him get married makes me feel like a proud older sister.”

It was such a contrasting sight seeing two mafia families be so fond and at ease with each other when you’d grown up seeing the southern mafia families at each other’s throats constantly. Chaewon seemed so comfortable here, and even though Taehyung was mostly quiet -you were starting to think he was trying to decipher the relationship between you and Jungkook with the way he kept staring back and forth between you two- even he didn’t seem to be guarded despite being in another mafia leader’s territory. 

“We enjoyed the basket, thank you,” Jungkook said, bringing your focus back to the conversation. You watched him lean back in his seat as his gaze drifted to you, the ghost of an amused look haunting his features, “the champagne particularly was quite the ice breaker.”

You’d tried to kill him using that bottle and yet here he was practically mocking you about it not even 24 hours later. You threw him a sweet smile, as if you were reliving a fond memory, hoping he would pick up on the hidden glare in your gaze. But that only made his grin widen. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Chaewon clapped, not seeming to pick up on the tension between you both, “I wasn’t aware of your distaste for alcohol though, Y/N. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind in the future.”

You faced her with what you hoped was a grateful smile, “it’s okay, I really liked the scented candles.”

It had actually been Persilla that had been obsessed with them, the vanilla scented one seeming to be her favourite. 

The dining room was mostly quiet following that, the four of you finishing up your food in a comfortable silence. Inwardly you were gagging at the combination of shrimp and banana milk you’d decided to torment yourself with. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, every few minutes or so you’d catch Jungkook trying to suppress a sly grin, the man being the only one in the room, to your knowledge at least, who knew the reality of your predicament. You scowled, annoyed by his satisfaction until an idea came to mind. 

Well, you could always hit two birds with one stone. 

You reached over your plate to grab your glass of banana milk, bringing it towards yourself to give the impression that you were going to drink from it. But at the last moment, you let the bottom of the glass catch on your plate, causing the entire thing to tip from your fingers. It clattered onto the table, splashing all over Jungkook’s plate and seated form, making him flinch. 

You instantly gasped dramatically, hands going to cover your mouth and eyes widening as you squeaked, “I’m so sorry!”

With Taehyung and Chaewon’s focus shifting to the spill on the table, the roll of Jungkook’s eyes went unnoticed by them. 

“It’s okay, it was only an accident,” he forced out, pushing his chair away from the table’s edge and widening his thighs to evade the rest of the milk. You had to hide your smile behind your hands as you watched the no doubt cold milk seep into his pants. 

Taehyung picked up the box of napkins, which had been near his plate, and held it out to the younger man, causing Jungkook to stretch over the table to receive it. But just as Jungkook grabbed the box, you noticed Taehyung’s brows suddenly furrow, his eyes seeming to stay fixed at a particular spot on Jungkook’s neck. 

You followed his gaze curiously. The first few buttons of Jungkook’s black shirt had been undone, revealing a sliver of his collarbone and chest, but as Jungkook stretched you noticed the fabric shift to expose more of the area, which you realised was covered in red patches that looked a lot like… hickies. You and Taehyung weren’t the only ones that caught this as you noticed Chaewon smirk, her gaze travelling between you both. 

Jungkook himself was the last to notice the stares as he pressed some tissues against the wet material of his pants, most of which was prominent on his lap. Yet when he did notice them, even you knew that Taehyung and Chaewon’s questioning looks wouldn’t allow for him to get out of this without an explanation. 

You expected him to wave them off with a lame excuse anyway, like it was a rash or he’d burned himself somehow. You could call Jungkook many things, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy that enjoyed making suggestive jokes or conversation. Nor did he seem like the kind of guy to divulge in his sexual escapades. 

But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead he paused, similar to earlier when he had entered the room, and seemed to think something over. Then his gaze dropped on you, and the mischief in his eyes gave you the odd feeling that you should prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 

You should have listened to that feeling. 

Jungkook broke his eye contact with you, his lips twitching into what suspiciously seemed like a smirk, before he turned to face Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I guess Y/N got a bit carried away earlier.”

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped open as Chaewon gasped, her hands instantly going to her chest as if she couldn’t believe it. From your peripheral vision you could make out Taehyung slumping against the back of his chair, as if he had finally given up on trying to figure the two of you out. 

“Y/N! I would have never guessed you were the freaky type,” Chaewon laughed, her gaze seeming to take you in a different light. Your hands curled into fists under the table. 

Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing by dropping a comment like that, and you were far from stupid enough not to see it. By insinuating that there was a more suggestive side of you, he was slowly starting to break down your performance of an innocent girl capable of doing no wrong in the eyes of others. 

You’d promised to kill him, and now he’d seemingly decided he wanted to kill the image you’d spent years cultivating. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself as Jungkook’s hand hooked under your chair to drag it towards him, allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulder when he was close enough. Even in the midst of your subdued anger you noticed just how close the sharp cut of his jawline was in this position, and not to mention the tiny mole under his bottom lip that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“It’s okay, princess,” he said, sounding sweet but you knew it was meant to be mocking, “you don’t have to be shy in front of them.”

You were going to kill him. You were going to shoot him so many times that by the time you were done with him he was going to look like a giant block of swiss cheese-

“Well, we should probably get going,” Taehyung said suddenly, his eyes focused on reading something on his phone before pocketing the device, “I think Suho is starting to get fussy again, plus we should get going if we want to get back home before it gets too dark.”

Taehyung offered a hand to Chaewon to help her get up from her seat, a classy smile gracing her lips as her gaze met yours, “that’s our son by the way. You must meet him the next time we meet.”

“I would love to. I love children,” you said with a tight smile as you and Jungkook got up from your seats, exchanging polite pleasantries all the way to the front door.

“You know, that’s not very surprising to me,” Chaewon commented while Taehyung looped an arm around hers. You waved to each other with smiles, watching him guide her into an orange car before driving around the fountain and disappearing through the tall gates. 

The second the front door closed your smile dropped, replaced by an annoyed scowl that you threw in Jungkook’s direction. He regarded you as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know about the North, but in the South we have this thing called personal space. You should try it out some time,” you said, to which Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“Have you ever seen a married couple have personal space? Really Y/N, must I explain the birds and the bees to you?

You huffed as he walked past you, climbing up the stairs casually while you started following behind him. 

“Why does it even matter if people know how dysfunctional this marriage is? We’re married, how is that not enough?”

It really did not make sense to you why he was so dead set on selling this image of a perfect marriage to others. Back in the South, there was not one marriage a mafia leader was a part of where it wasn’t in complete shambles, and that was very public knowledge to everyone in, and even outside of, the territory. Yet, that didn’t seem to affect the level of control or power the southern mafia leaders had. So why was Jungkook making it out to be such a big deal?

But the question stopped him in his tracks, causing him to turn around on the stairs to give you an incredulous look, as if what you had asked was almost alien. 

“I don’t know how it works in the South, but in the North it very much matters,” he said slowly, gaze fixed on yours, “we must present ourselves as perfect in every aspect of our lives, or there are a number of enemies that would have no problem taking advantage of even the most miniscule flaw.”

You scoffed, “that’s dumb.”

Jungkook turned away from you, not bothering to comment on the mindless remark, as he continued to resume his path up the stairs. When he finally made it to the top and walked up to his bedroom’s door, he pushed it open and walked inside. 

Your breath instantly stalled as you followed behind him, gaze darting around the room quickly to see if Persilla was anywhere in his sights. You knew you didn’t need to worry, Persilla was a master of remaining unseen, she’d managed to hide from everyone in the house when you’d been living in the South with your father after all. You’d even opened the door to the balcony slightly, allowing her to roam outside freely if she wanted to, so she might not have even been in the room anyway. You exhaled slowly, successful in convincing yourself that the little black cat you’d grown to care for and love would be fine. 

Jungkook’s breath, on the other hand, came out as a low huff when he noticed the balcony door ajar. He walked over to it quickly, closing it before giving you a chastising look. One you ignored obviously. 

Instead you casually turned away from him to enter into the bathroom, grabbing a few makeup wipes before returning back into the bedroom and plopping yourself down on the fluffy duvet of the bed. You began wiping off the various light sparkles and pinks that softened your face, as if you were taking off a doll-like mask. 

“You’re an annoying little thing, aren’t you?” He commented as he watched your nonchalant demeanour. 

Then it was your turn to watch him disappear into his closet for a moment, the muffled sounds of clothes moving around reaching your ears, before he emerged in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black short sleeve t-shirt. 

But you particularly noticed his right arm, which was covered in a full sleeve of tattoos ending just above his wrist. The ink travelled over the smooth ridges of his skin, taut from the firm muscles underneath. Your gaze immediately dropped to the small trash can next to the bedside table, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, as you focused on throwing the used wipes into the bin. 

You then leaned back on the mattress, arms holding you upright, trying to get your focus back on track, “I like how forgetting to close the balcony door annoys you and not the fact that I want you dead.”

That made Jungkook smile, amusement clear in his eyes, “I’m still standing here though, aren’t I?”

Your reply was quick.

“It won’t be for long.”

“Right,” Jungkook nodded, his words laced into a patronising chuckle, “but while you’re working on that, I need you to actually act like my wife. We’re lucky Taehyung and Chaewon didn’t notice anything, the public won’t be so inattentive.”

You tilted your head, “yes, I wonder what the public would have said about the hickies on your neck.”

Jungkook mirrored your movements, the edges of his lips twitching.

“I think they would be glad to be under the impression that we’re hard at work trying to produce an heir.”

“That’s only if your side piece stays quiet.” 

“Careful, Y/N,” Jungkook tutted, “you sound almost jealous.”

“Jealous?” You repeated incredulously, sitting up straighter with an evidently offended expression, “your girl is sleeping with a dead man walking. Is that something to be jealous of?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, continuing to direct an amused gaze in your direction, before he turned away, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his hair, “relax, princess, there’s no other girl. I just went hunting earlier and got a few mosquito bites. Nothing more.”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” you shrugged before falling back onto the mattress, the softness of the duvet making your limbs feel heavy with exhaustion. The position caused your dress to ride up to the middle of your thighs, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. He looked away when he realised he was staring, choosing instead to focus his gaze on the bright moon outside the window. 

“We may be as far from in love with each other as the moon is to the earth, but I still won’t risk messing around with others outside this relationship,” he said. There was a pause after his words, as if he were expecting you to say something, but you let the silence ensue. There really was nothing you wanted to add anyway. 

A noise made you lift your head, allowing you to see Jungkook unlocking the door to his office before he turned his head to you, “just get used to whatever happened at dinner today. There will be much more where that came from in the future.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the room while locking the door behind him. Jungkook immediately walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to place them on the desk.

The loud clink of the glass against the wood of the desk made Jungkook frown, annoyed by his getting annoyed at your lack of reply. Yet, it was evident that he was indeed irritated by it. Of course you wouldn’t agree not to mess around with others, you had your ‘boyfriend’ waiting for you back in the South. 

He certainly wasn’t messing around with anyone. After meeting Taehyung at the docks, Jungkook had gone to meet with the leader of an independent gang in the West, who, to his distaste, was a huge fan of hunting. So naturally they’d met in a forest to hunt for a few hours, before Jungkook had convinced the man to be at his disposal. Jungkook has always been prone to mosquito bites, but that day the mosquitos seemed to have taken a particular liking to his neck and arms, despite what Taehyung and Chaewon might have thought. 

It didn’t matter to him, though, that you had a boyfriend. Yes, it really didn’t. He was just annoyed because if someone found out about him, then Jungkook’s reputation would take a hit. The news would spread like a wildfire, and the outcome would be far from good. 

He didn’t even know how well you could hide a secret like that. What if you slipped up somewhere? What if the dude did? It would be a disaster. 

Jungkook placed his glass down, the whiskey momentarily forgotten as he grabbed his phone and leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen in thought. This was for the good of his leadership, not anything personal. Yes, that’s right. 

Mind made, Jungkook quickly dialled a familiar number, waiting barely a single ring before a male voice sounded from the device. 

“Hello sir, was there something I could help you with?”

Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around the glass on his desk, “tell the informant I want him to investigate Lee Y/N’s room at the Lee mansion. I want to find out everything we can about the man Y/N was talking on the phone with before our marriage, and if there’s anything else unusual I want to be informed of it as well.”

“Yes, of course sir,” the voice said immediately, “I’ll let him know as soon as possible. Is that all?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, thinking over the question. This had been an impromptu call after all.

Stuck in his thoughts, he brought the glass into his hand, swirling the liquid in it for a second before taking a modest sip.

His reflexes acted before his mind did; the second he registered the hint of a metallic taste he lurched forward, spitting the liquid back into the glass in a matter of a second. Even with that little exposure he could start to feel his tongue burn slightly, causing him to instantly open the drawer of his desk and grab a water bottle. The water soothed his mouth as he quickly swished it between his teeth before spitting it out and repeating the process a few times.

“Sir? Sir?! Is everything okay?” The voice rang from his phone, Jungkook almost forgetting about him for a second. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, it was nothing. That will be all, thank you.”

He ended the call, grimacing in discomfort at the feel of his slightly sensitive tongue against the roof of his mouth. So you’d managed to find a way to sneak into his office. He shouldn’t have been very surprised by that, you seemed to have a talent for getting into places where you shouldn’t. 

Jungkook sighed as he eyed his liquor cabinet, realising that he’d have to throw it all. But as his gaze raised, it seemed to catch an empty slot in his bookshelf. Curiously he walked over to it, hand hovering over the hollow space between a book about war tactics and a book about his family’s history. 

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. You’d obviously taken one of his books, but whether it was for casual reading or for something more he couldn’t tell. 

He ignored the pang of pain that rippled throughout his mouth as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, his gaze falling back to his desk. With Jimin’s attacks, he had a lot of work he was going to have to do, and now seemed like the perfect time to get that done considering he was not going to go back into his bedroom, which you had taken over. 

He sighed. 

It was going to be a long night. 

-

-

-

You remained seated on the bed as you watched Jungkook lock the door behind him, leaving you alone in his bedroom once again. You hoped he enjoyed the nice present you’d dropped into his liquor bottles this morning, because you were just about ready to be shipped off back to the Lee mansion and watch your plan unfold in the perfect way you’d outlined it to. 

The sound of something tapping against glass caught your attention, causing you to turn towards the balcony. It was hard to spot her in the dead of night, her black fur blending into the dark so well that her feline eyes were the only thing about her you could really make out. But even then, there was no doubt in your mind that it was Persilla trying to get your attention from outside of the balcony door. 

You stood, sending a wary glance in the direction of Jungkook’s office’s door, before slowly pushing yourself off the mattress and making your way towards the glass. You paused in front of it for a moment, taking a deep breath before closing your eyes. Your hands blindly felt in front of you, moving erratically in the air for a moment before you could feel the handle between your fingers. You pulled on it, hearing the sound of the door opening as well as the feel of the fresh airy breeze on your face.

The second you felt Persilla’s small body walking between your feet, you pushed the door close, sighing in relief when you opened your eyes. 

You crouched down to pet Persilla’s head, scratching against her chin when she purred delightfully. It was only when she moved her head upwards, showcasing her collar, when you paused, your gaze catching onto something white wedged between the sleek leather and her furry neck. 

“Do you have something for me, Persilla?” You asked, fingers pinching the thing, which you realised was a folded note, and bringing it out of its confines. You unfolded it, eyes widening after scanning it and recognising the familiar strokes of black pen on its surface.

It’s done.

We should meet soon.

~ H

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Also Jungkook when he finds out about Persilla: 🧍‍♂️

Fool's Gold || Part II

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), very vague indication of past sexual assault, additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

A/N: thank you guys so much for all the love you gave the first part, it means so much to me 🥺 Hope you enjoy this chapter too (Y/N and Jungkook bicker for like half of it 💀)

<< previous part || Masterlist || next part >>

It was supposed to be simple. 

You kill Jungkook, breaking up the alliance between the Lees and the Jeons, blame his murder on a rival mafia, and then be on your merry way back to your father’s home before you could be caught up in the chaos you’d have started. Sure it hadn’t been the most complex of plans you’ve come up with, you hardly had the time to map out a plan like that anyway, but sometimes simple was all one needed. 

Unfortunately, this had clearly not been one of those times. 

The problem was Jungkook. Your first husband had been an idiot and completely fooled by your featherbrained facade, so much so that even after you’d stolen the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest he’d stared at you like you’d grown two heads. He just couldn’t comprehend the fact that a seemingly frivolous girl could have the courage to pull the trigger. Even after what he’d tried to do to you. After he almost-

You felt a shudder sweep across your spine.

But Jungkook was different. He had been assessing you the second you appeared before him during the wedding ceremony and, even though he had seemed to take in your carefully crafted performance, his gaze still refused to complete its assessment. At first you thought it was just lust -most men in the mafia couldn’t seem to be rid of that tenacious emotion- however, the lack of sexual initiation on his part despite being alone together in his room made you realise that perhaps Jungkook was a lot less like the mafia leaders you had grown up with than you realised. 

For one, he was scarily observant, and it was this skill that had ultimately led to the downfall of your assassination attempt. 

A huff escaped your lips at the thought, your hands continuing to expertly manoeuvre two pins inside the lock of the door you were currently crouched in front of. You had stayed sat on Jungkook’s bed the entire night, too wary to even attempt sleeping in the bedroom that was entirely unfamiliar to you. You half expected Jungkook to sneak into the room while you were out cold and enact a fitting revenge; you’d be unable to even blame him, you’d tried to kill the man after all. But Jungkook hadn’t left the mystery room all night, only emerging once the clock had struck 7 in the morning to wordlessly grab a black coat from the top of his dresser and disappear behind the front door with nothing but a single, hasty glance in your direction. 

Your brow had raised as you watched him get into his black car and drive off through the window, wondering how he could just leave you unattended in his home after the threat you had dropped near the end of your conversation earlier. Sure he probably had people monitoring his house at all times, but there was still a lot you could get done in front of people that wouldn’t suspect the girl with fluffy dresses and doe eyes to be much of a threat. 

Luckily for him though, you were beyond tired, and that meant that his absence was just a window of opportunity to get some actual rest without the constant fear of his retaliation keeping you awake. So following a long yawn, you had naturally felt yourself drift towards the bed, eyeing the soft duvet and fluffy pillows sleepily. But then, before you could lose yourself to the comfort of his mattress, your curious gaze had slowly wandered to the door Jungkook had disappeared behind last night and, next thing you knew, you were crouched in front of its gold lock and jabbing two pins into its keyhole. 

Your focus snapped back to the door before you as a familiar click sounded from the lock, causing it to swing open just a few centimetres. You pocketed the two pins, muttering a small “finally...” while your fingers wrapped around the gold handle. But before you could push it open, the muffled sound of an object dropping suddenly startled you. You whirled around, eyes immediately scanning the bedroom with intense precision as your hand grabbed the closest thing to you: a vase. Had someone managed to get into the room without you knowing? Perhaps you weren’t as observant as Jungkook seemed to be, but you’ve never been so absentminded that you could’ve been this caught off guard-

“Oh my god,” you gasped abruptly, a recollection surfacing as you quickly placed the vase back on the bedside table and scurried over to the closet. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten something so important… She must have been waiting in there the entire night.

You hastily threw open the closet door, gaze scanning the space until it finally fell on a small shadow peeking from behind the white and fawn island. The black shadow stood still for a moment, as if identifying the intruder, before the familiar cat sauntered out of the small space, black fur gleaming under the light. She looked up at you with an expression that eerily resembled a scowl. 

“Hi Persilla,” you cooed, crouching down to run a hand apologetically through the creature’s fur. Persilla evaded it at first, almost punishing you for forgetting her in the small, dark walk-in closet for the entire night, but eventually she gave in, purring as she brushed her soft tail against your still bare legs. While you could understand being stuck in a place like that for hours might’ve been slightly uncomfortable, she really had no right to act like that after how damn hard it had been to have her smuggled into Jungkook’s house without alerting anyone. It had been a huge risk, one that you might have a little trouble justifying, but you swear there was just something calming about her presence and you needed that desperately, especially in such a foreign place. 

“I failed to kill him,” you frowned, watching as Persilla’s feline eyes raised to watch you, “which means we’re going to have to stay here a little longer than I thought.”

You pulled yourself from the floor, shifting your focus back to Jungkook’s mystery room as you felt a pang of irritation hit you. You needed Jungkook dead, the delay in his death getting in the way of everything you’ve been working towards. Yet here you were now, stuck in the house you thought you wouldn’t be spending more than a night in. 

You cautiously walked over to the door you’d lock picked earlier, taking special care not to step on Persilla as she skittered between your feet, before grabbing the handle and pushing it open. The room turned out to be a seemingly simple office, which you found unsurprising for the most part. There was a wall full of books on one side, a glass cabinet of liquor wedged between its centre, while another wall was made up entirely of glass that showed off an enormous portion of Jungkook’s estate. It was the large desk to your right that really caught your attention, the sight of a map sprawled over its smooth surface particularly piquing your interest. 

You walked towards the glass cabinet first, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to pour yourself a drink, before you walked over to the desk and glanced at the map curiously. Persilla jumped onto the surface, circling the piece of paper like a predator surveying its prey. 

“It’s a map of the North,” you noted, taking a sip of the drink in your hand momentarily as you recognised the illustration instantly. You’d spend months studying a similar map back home before marrying Jungkook after all.

Handmade lines ran throughout the northern portion of the country, separating the territories run by different mafia leaders. You recognised Jungkook’s territory first, one of the bigger ones in the region, while Taehyung’s was right next to his, both of which were detailed with the locations of different landmarks: docks, hotels, residential areas, etc. You noticed that the other territories hadn’t been labelled like that, with the territory above Jungkook’s labelled “Park Territory” simply containing one or two locations and the territory labelled “Min Territory” containing no locations. There was a region above those two territories that hadn’t even been labelled at all, similar to your own map of the North back at home. 

“Aside from Taehyung’s territory, Jungkook doesn’t seem to know much about the northern region. I guess we’re similar in that aspect,” you muttered, speaking to Persilla as if you were giving her a report of the current situation. She turned towards you, tilting her head for a moment before she nudged the corner of the paper with her paw. You narrowed your gaze at the action, deciding to flip the paper. To your surprise there was another map, this time illustrating the southern portion of the country; the one where your father’s territory, the Lees, was situated and where you’d grown up your entire life. 

You smiled at Persilla, scratching under her chin while she purred in delight at the attention. What would you do without her?

It was surprising to see this map so much more detailed than the first, you thought, taking another sip of the whiskey in your hand. While Taehyung’s territory had been the only one littered with details in the northern region, all the territories in the South were full of details upon details. You could make out each one labelled with its respective mafia leader, a number of important locations, and even predictions about possible actions each leader might take in the future, all of which you could confirm to be highly accurate.

You flipped the map back to how it had been initially, gaze raising to move onto scanning the rest of the room while Persilla dropped to the floor quietly.

“How could Jungkook know so little about the northern region, yet so much about the South?” You thought out loud, tracking Persilla’s movements as she began pacing around the room. He was clearly great at collecting intel, the amount of information he had on the southern region was evidence of that, yet the North, his own region, was practically blank aside from Taehyung’s territory. Having grown up in the southern region yourself, you knew it better than the back of your hand. So if Jungkook had grown up in the North, how could he know so little about it? Was there some kind of history between the mafias in the North? 

Like your thoughts, you began absentmindedly drifting towards the enormous bookshelf, fingers brushing against the hardcover spines. 

If there really was history between the northern mafias, then knowing that history could be useful. Once you killed Jungkook and blamed his death on Park Jimin, there would be war between the Jeons and the Parks, and since the Kims and Mins are allied with the Jeons and Parks, respectively, it would be a full on war of the North. It’s that kind of instability you were aiming for, but knowing the more personal history of the northern mafias might help you create further tensions between the alliances, making things even more unstable. It would be perfect; the messier the better. That’s what your ultimate plan called for. That’s how you’ll finally-

You suddenly came to an abrupt stop, your fingers freezing as they came in contact with a particular book. It was a hardcover, just like the others, entirely black aside from the title, which had been written in bright gold, and the off-white pages. 

Persilla was back to skittering between your ankles once again, as if sensing the change in your thoughts. Her soft, black tail brushed against your bare legs as you delicately brought out the book with both your hands, wide eyes scanning it almost in disbelief. 

The Choice of a Nation.

It was the book that had changed your life. A fictitious book about a protagonist that lived in a world of human rights, justice, and structure. A world where everyone, more or less, was defined by their achievements and hard work rather than who they were born to. 

Reality was far from that. It was an enormous country cut up into territories based on which mafia leader ruled it. It was having to grow up watching innocent people be slaughtered because of petty disputes between said mafia leaders. It was watching people from mafia families be automatically rich and educated and powerful while people born to those under their rule automatically be poor, uneducated, and stepped on again and again and again. You were taught that this way of living was normal, that it was the only way of living in this world. 

Reality was something you’ve always found difficult to come to terms with because of this, because despite being taught the normalcy of such a way of living, it never seemed right to you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of people’s entire lives being dependent on who they were born to, something that wasn’t in their control. If you were born a servant, you and the rest of your generations would stay servants forever. If you were born a mafia leader, you and your future generations would stay in power forever. Your sentiments made you feel alien when you realised no one else around you seemed to share the same thoughts, so much so that you started wondering that perhaps you really were being too unrealistic. 

But then came The Choice of a Nation, a book that introduced to you concepts like governments and elections and courts. It was all entirely fiction, every term having to be explained in great detail to be understandable, but all that mattered to you was that it was doable. Having different levels of governments, having a justice system that judged everyone fairly no matter who they were, and having the people decide who they want leading them. It was realistic. 

And you’re convinced that the mafia families knew it too, because despite its fictitious nature, the book was immediately banned the second it was published, while its author had been killed just as quickly. You yourself had only gotten your hands on the book out of sheer dumb luck. Distantly you wondered how and why Jungkook had this copy. 

After that you had become dead set on making the book’s world a reality. But in order for things to go as you’ve planned, you need things to be unstable, because unstable things are weak. The South has always been like that, with mafia leaders constantly at each other’s throats. You doubt any of them even know what the word ‘alliance’ even means. It was perfect for you. 

The North, on the other hand, was a bit different. There were two alliances and the most northern region was a complete mystery to you. At first, you were stumped with how you were going to weaken the region, but then the opportunity had presented itself when your father had announced your hasty marriage to Jungkook. And once again, it was perfect. 

All you needed was Jungkook to be dead, and the rest would fall in place just like you’d planned. 

A meowing noise suddenly sounded from your feet, causing you to look down and find Persilla standing on her hind legs, her front paws brushing against your bare shins repeatedly. Her impatience was clear as day, making you smile. 

“You’re right, that’s enough snooping for today I think,” you nodded, running a hand over her small head while the other clutched the book firmly, “you deserve some expensive salmon for being such a good girl.”

As if she understood your words, Persilla dropped to the floor and purred, rubbing her furry body against your ankle. You gave the room one last look, as if expecting to find something else worth surveying, but ultimately decided you were way too tired from your all-nighter to continue on. 

-

-

-

At this point in his life, Jungkook could say with certainty that he was a pretty patient man. He wasn’t born with the trait, if anything impatience seemed to have been stitched well into his personality the second he’d entered this world. But, over time, he’d learned to get rid of the pesky trait and replace it with the much more effective and fruitful quality that was patience. 

Yet, not even all those years of cultivating the characteristic could have prepared him for how late Kim Taehyung was. 

Jungkook had been standing at the West docks, hands in the pockets of his long, black coat, since 8:00 AM in the morning, waiting almost 4 hours for his friend with furrowed brows and an unimpressed frown. He’d left the house as early as appropriately possible, partly because of your presence and partly because of the urgency in addressing the dock’s issue. Now it was almost noon and Taehyung, who’d promised to be here by 9:00 AM was still nowhere in sight. 

An annoyed sigh escaped his lips as he felt the ocean air breeze through the nearly black strands of his hair. Taehyung being late had given him more time to think about earlier this morning, when he’d shot you a glance before he was out the front door. You looked like you hadn’t slept a wink, which Jungkook could relate to, but he supposed that was for the best. You’d threatened to kill him at the end of your conversation last night, so having you sleep deprived would probably work in his favour. 

Not that you could really do anything anyway. Jungkook had made sure to set guards in every entrance to the kitchen and stripped the house of every weapon that wasn’t locked in a hefty safe. There was no way you could get your hands on any kind of gun or knife, so he was pretty confident that you couldn’t be a threat to him at the moment. Though, the memory of your fiery eyes from last night had seemed so determined…

“What are you smirking about?” Taehyung asked as he strolled along the boardwalk, making his way towards the younger man. 

Jungkook’s scowl instantly returned, causing Taehyung to raise his hands in surrender, “it took Chaewon and I a whole hour to get Suho to bed, who’s also sick by the way. Cut me some slack, man.”

“I told you guys to stay over at my place and not some hotel,” Jungkook chastised, feeling bad for the little guy. He made a note to send some sweets to their hotel room when he got back, “the maid could have helped you guys out.”

“The newlyweds deserve to have the house to themselves,” Taehyung waved him off before he smirked, “besides, I didn’t know how freaky you guys were going to get and I couldn’t risk Suho hearing, he’s way too young for that stuff.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, motioning for Taehyung to start following him. They started walking along the boardwalk, Jungkook’s hands still shoved into his coat’s pockets while Taehyung’s were covered in black leather gloves. 

“Okay,” Taehyung said, “I’m just going to ask one question, and then we’ll drop it and you can explain this whole dock’s situation to me.”

That earned him a raised brow, but the lack of the younger’s refusal spurred him on. 

“What do you think of her?”

Jungkook didn’t answer for a moment, mulling over his reply before he finally answered. 

“She’s fine.”

He didn’t know why he wasn’t telling Taehyung the truth about you, about how your entire ditzy personality was a front and about how hellbent you were on killing him to get a divorce. Maybe it was because he didn’t really see the need to. Jungkook had concluded that you were only trying to kill him because you wanted a divorce, allowing you to go back to whichever boyfriend was waiting for you back in the south. 

“Your words are saying she’s fine, but your face is saying you’re mad,” Taehyung noted with a brow raised. But Jungkook waved him off, ready to end this conversation and get onto more important business. 

“Anyways, as you know, the Parks decided to attack the West docks last week,” Jungkook began, pointing towards his left to show Taehyung the damage sustained. One of the enormous warehouses, which collectively formed a neat line leading farther than his eye could decipher, had caved into itself, its walls charred almost entirely. The two warehouses by its side seemed more salvageable, with only a wall or two affected by the evident fire that had taken place. Construction workers could already be seen surrounding the area, hard at work to replace the damaged structures. 

Taehyung nodded as he took in the scene, “an attack at the docks… they’re checking to see how strong the Jeons are at the moment.”

“They’re doing it because they want to know if they can take over our territory.”

That was the standard protocol after all. When a mafia attacks another mafia’s docks, it’s usually because they want to test how weak or strong they are and whether they can take them over or not. The fact that the Parks pulled something like this right after their alliance with the Mins was no coincidence to Jungkook. 

But to his surprise, Taehyung paused, as if mulling over Jungkook’s words. He watched Taehyung’s gaze drift over to the vast sea on their right, a contemplative look shadowing over his eyes before they flickered back to Jungkook. 

“Is that really what you think Jimin is doing?” 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowned, “this is the textbook procedure for taking over another territory.”

When Taehyung didn’t answer him, Jungkook placed a hand in front of his chest, blocking his path so the two could stand facing each other as they spoke.

“I’m just saying,” Taehyung finally explained, “it seems a bit out of character for him. Wasn’t he always the one that was going on about how dumb it is to want to take over other territories instead of cultivating your own?”

Jungkook scoffed, “yeah, in university, which was years ago. Jimin has changed since then.”

Taehyung’s lips formed a grim line at the animosity in his voice. 

“Look, I know you both-”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off quickly, knowing exactly where this conversation was going, “this isn’t the hatred from what happened years ago talking. Jimin has changed, and I have the evidence to prove it.”

Jungkook turned around to resume his earlier path, Taehyung walking slowly behind him as they passed by the workers sighing in relief at the cool breeze of the ocean and large ships anchored alongside the piers. In a matter of minutes, Jungkook had led him to the entrance of an enormous warehouse. Taehyung’s brows furrowed when Jungkook turned around to face him, a grim expression washing over his strong features. 

“When the Parks attacked the docks last week, I managed to prevent them from seizing control of it by bringing out some old blackmail. Obviously I didn’t think it would hold them off for long if their plan really is to take over my territory, but I didn’t expect them to retaliate so soon,” Jungkook explained, “nor did I expect them to retaliate in this way.”

He turned back to face the warehouse's door, hand wrapping around its handle, “the night before my wedding, I was called to the docks because some of the worker’s had found something in this warehouse.”

Then he turned the handle and pushed the door wide open, revealing its inside.

“This is what I found.”

It was awful. 

The entire warehouse was full of dead bodies, some thrown haphazardly on the ground while others were thrown over the equipment spanning the room. Taehyung could make out bodies of men, women, and even some children -he couldn’t look at them for too long without thinking of his own son- all of which had clearly been killed in varying ways. Some looked like they had been burned, while others looked like they’d been thrown into a blender. Being in the mafia, Taehyung was no stranger to blood and gore, but this… this was too much, even for him. 

But then his gaze caught onto a wall in the far corner of the warehouse, particularly the sight of dried blood smeared against the grey metal. He took in each stroke of red, processing each letter it had been made to resemble until he could read what had been written. 

“‘We’re coming,’” Jungkook read out loud, keeping his stoic gaze fixed on Taehyung. 

He shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, “I knew Yoongi was brutal, but I never could have expected he’d be capable of… this.”

Jungkook’s gaze drifted around the room, grimacing at the scene before him. 

“Jimin and Yoongi clearly aren’t who they used to be,” he concluded, looking towards Taehyung for confirmation. Thankfully, Taehyung nodded this time, gaze becoming hard as he agreed without protest. 

“Well, they’ve warned us that they’re coming,” he said, gesturing towards the bloody message, “what are we going to do about it?”

Jungkook motioned for Taehyung to follow him back outside, where the air didn’t smell like death and the sights didn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with one of the unaffiliated gangs located in the West in about an hour. As long as we pay them well, they’ll do just about anything for us. Having extra manpower should tip the odds in our favour. Not to mention, I’ll make good use of the Lees.”

Taehyung nodded as he watched Jungkook close the door of the warehouse, “are you going to contact Jimin first?”

“No,” he shook his head, beginning to walk back to the parking lot alongside Taehyung, “I’ve had a headcount done and it doesn’t seem like any of the people in the warehouse were one of ours. I think the Parks were just trying to send a message to scare us.”

“I’ll get a headcount done for my people too just in case,” Taehyung said, to which Jungkook agreed. 

Once they had made it back to the parking lot, Taehyung turned to face him.

“I was thinking of heading back to my territory tonight, since I have a few things I need to take care of,” he explained, opening the door of his bright orange car before leaning against it casually, “but Chaewon wanted to have a late lunch or dinner with the bride and groom before we left. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jungkook’s interest piqued as a thought suddenly came to mind. This would be a good opportunity to assess how you and him were going to act like a couple in front of others. If the two of you failed, it would be fine since it was just Taehyung and Chaewon, two people that he trusted with his life. Then you and him could learn from the experience and hopefully get it together before having to make any public appearances. 

“Does 6 work?” He asked, to which Taehyung nodded. 

The two then exchanged quick goodbyes, Taehyung explaining that he should probably get back as soon as possible to get things in order, before Jungkook watched as he got into his car and drove off, standing for a few minutes until someone came to stand behind him. 

“Sir?”

He turned to find a man bowing in his direction, waiting for permission to speak. Jungkook motioned for him to go on, already getting an idea of what this was about. 

“Our informant within the Lees just contacted us,” he explained, “he said that Lee Y/N’s father believes his daughter to be a frivolous and naive girl, her sole purpose being to marry someone that will benefit the Lees.”

Jungkook nodded at the news. So you had been telling the truth when you said that you’d fooled everyone, including your father, with your performance… Distantly he wondered why you would decide to resort to such an act. 

“Have there been any talks of betraying this alliance?” Jungkook asked, to which the man shook his head. 

“The informant said there were none. Lee Y/N’s father seems dependent on this alliance to protect himself from neighbouring mafias. The South is quite unsettled in that aspect.”

“I see, and have there been any talks of Y/N having some sort of significant other in the Lee territory?”

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment, “the informant said that there weren’t really any talks of that… but he did mention that before your marriage, when Lee Y/N was still living in the Lee territory, he’d accidentally overheard a hushed phone conversation she’d had in her bedroom. He couldn’t make out what they had been talking about, but he was able to confirm that the voice on the other line was male. The informant hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but since you’re asking now, he decided it would be safer to let you know just in case.”

It could have been anyone, hell, you could have been talking to a relative or something, but Jungkook’s mind went straight to his initial theory. It made sense, especially considering you wanted a divorce so badly. He couldn’t really think of any other reason besides your heart already belonging to someone else… even though you were his wife. 

“Sir? Was there anything else?” The man asked, causing Jungkook to reel in his scowl.

“Contact Lee Y/N’s father and schedule a meeting with him as soon as he can,” Jungkook said, “that’s all, thank you.”

The man bowed, instantly scurrying away from sight to get to the assigned task, while Jungkook turned to start making his way to his car. 

For some reason, his mood had suddenly soured. 

-

-

-

“So we finally get to meet the famous Y/N.”

You smiled shyly as you walked into the grand dining hall, automatically taking in the spiralling chandelier, marble floor, and dark brown dining table filled with formal decoration pieces. Only after this assessment did you let your gaze fall on the two sitting on the dining chairs; the first one you already knew to be Taehyung, who was dressed in a rich grey suit, while the other was a woman -you automatically assumed she was Taehyung’s wife considering the maid had told you you’d be dining with the two today. 

She had been the one that had spoken, but the first thing you noticed when your eyes landed on her was that she was gorgeous. Her straight, long black hair and hazel eyes sparkled under the glittering light of the chandelier overhead, while her dark maroon dress fit elegantly into the rich ambience of the room.

As she stood from her seat, you felt yourself automatically tense. Back in the South, the wives of mafia leaders were always vicious and constantly at each other's throats, a reflection of their husbands’ animosity towards each other. Now that you were married, you supposed you’d have to be subjected to the same, but the only difference was that your ditzy facade would bar you from being able to fight back. Whatever Taehyung’s wife threw at you, you’d have to take it. 

But after she made her way towards you, her actions as smooth as silk, you were surprised when she pulled you in for a quick and formal embrace. 

“The wedding was absolutely beautiful,” she praised, even the flow of her voice silk-like, “and of course your dress, it was exquisite! You must tell me the designer you went with- or perhaps it was all just your figure. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.”

For a moment all you could do was stare at her; this woman… she was being so… nice. Too nice, if you were being honest. It was a little unnerving, instantly making you sceptical of her intentions. Perhaps the wives of northern mafia leaders were more cunning in the way they sniped at each other? They greeted each other politely during occasions, but behind the scenes they would attack each other to obtain what they wanted? But then again, what could anyone possibly want from you? To them you were just some featherbrained girl that dressed like a fancy pastel tablecloth. 

You’d decided to still dress the part this evening, with a fluffy light pink dress that fell right at your knees and a matching silk ribbon tied into a bow pulling up half your hair, even if you didn’t know for sure how much Jungkook would have revealed to Taehyung. You had the feeling that Jungkook wouldn’t tell him anything, since it would work in his favour having the least amount of people knowing, but you’ve also heard how close the two men were so it wouldn’t entirely surprise you if he had.

Taehyung certainly was staring at you like he knew your secret. Unlike his wife, he stayed seated at the dining table, offering you a polite greeting from there instead, but you could recognise the calculating nature of his gaze as clear as day. He was assessing your every movement as you interacted with his wife, which made you straighten up. It wouldn’t be the biggest deal if he did know, because who would believe him if he went around spreading that kind of news, but if he didn’t, then you would have to up the quality of your act. 

“Has Jungkook told you anything about us?” Taehyung’s wife asked as she took the seat next to her husband once again, while you decided to take the seat across from her, “ah- who am I kidding? You’ve only been here a night. I’m Chaewon and this is Taehyung, he’s the leader of the Kims.”

You nodded, making sure to keep your voice light and airy, “you’re pretty.”

She tried to hide it well, but the comment had Chaewon’s eyes flickering to her husband for a moment. It was better that you started dropping a dumb comment here and there to really seal the ‘dumb as rocks’ trait. 

Chaewon quickly recovered from the surprise, letting out a breathy chuckle, “you’re sweet, but you’re so pretty yourself. I love the light sparkles you’ve added to your lids, it’s such a subtle but dainty thing.”

Her tone was so formal that you couldn’t tell if she was passively mocking you or not. You would’ve preferred she just pull a gun on you or something; it would be way less confusing than sitting here and trying to read between the lines of her words. Confrontational individuals were dangerous, but individuals who planned their strikes in the shadows were the real threats. You’d know that best.

At that moment, before you could reply with an even dumber comment, the sound of the door opening caught everyone’s attention. You turned just to catch Jungkook closing the door behind him, his hair slightly damp, likely from a shower, and dressed in a simple black collar shirt tucked into matching black dress pants. He paused at the doorway, scanning the room for a moment until his eyes dropped on you.

Your brows furrowed when he held your gaze for a second longer than normal, a hidden question in your expression. He looked almost thoughtful, an idea clearly waltzing through his mind, before he finally started making his way towards the three of you. 

You thought that was the end of the odd moment, and that Jungkook would finally initiate a conversation with the other two sitting at the table as he pulled out the chair next to you. But just as he was about to settle into the soft cushion, he stalled for a second, turned to face you…

And then placed a quick peck on your cheek.

You froze, shock making your limbs rigid as you used every bit of your self control to stop yourself from instinctively flinching at the action. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jungkook apologised as he casually plopped down into his seat, gaze fixing on the couple before you. 

But Chaewon smiled, a graceful hand going to her chest. 

“Aww look at how flustered she looks, aren’t they just adorable, Taehyung?” She said with a smile. Your hands instantly went to your cheeks, annoyed to find them burning underneath your palms. 

Before you could think much of it though, the servers started spilling into the room to place steaming plates of food before you all. This evening’s menu seemed to be seafood themed, with plates of crab, lobster, and shrimp filling the initially empty surface of the dark dining table. It made sense to you, considering almost half of Jungkook’s territory bordered the ocean. 

Once the plates had been placed, a server stepped beside you, bringing out a bottle of red wine to pour into the empty glass beside your plate. But you brought up a hand to stop him. 

“Not a fan of wine, Y/N?” Chaewon asked as she noticed the gesture, and once again the ambiguity in her formal tone made it hard to tell whether she was mocking you or not. 

You shook her head in response, “I don’t like alcohol, it tastes gross.”

Yes, ditzy Y/N didn’t like alcohol, but the real Y/N was seriously craving that expensive whiskey you knew Jungkook had stashed in his office at this very moment. He clearly had good taste, it was a shame you’d had to drop a gram of lethal toxin into the bottle before you’d left the room and passed out on Jungkook’s bed for nearly two hours. You scowled inwardly as you remembered how much more you could have slept had it not been for the maid who had woken you up to give you a tour of the house and then helped you get ready for the early dinner you and Jungkook were supposed to have with Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I apologise ma’am, is there anything else I can interest you in instead?” The server asked, moving the bottle of wine away from your glass. You mused over your answer for a moment, before you smiled up at him.

“I’d like some banana milk, please.”

Once again, Chaewon subtly threw an unreadable look towards Taehyung, but this time she wasn’t alone as Taehyung and Jungkook each threw their own odd looks in your direction at the wildly childish choice. Back when you first started acting naive your reaction would have consisted of an intense feeling of embarrassment washing over you, but now the others’ reactions only seemed to amuse you. Although, you were inwardly groaning at how gross having seafood alongside milk was going to be. But the show had to go on, didn’t it?

Taehyung cleared his throat when the server returned with a wine glass filled with banana milk -you had to pinch your arm to stop yourself from laughing at that- before he turned to face Jungkook, eager to break the awkward silence that had ensued. 

“I hope you both enjoyed your wedding present, Chaewon spent so long on making that gift basket I thought it was going to be for your one year anniversary,” he joked, causing Chaewon to playfully slap his shoulder. 

“I just wanted it to be nice,” she defended instantly, “we’ve known Jungkook for years, seeing him get married makes me feel like a proud older sister.”

It was such a contrasting sight seeing two mafia families be so fond and at ease with each other when you’d grown up seeing the southern mafia families at each other’s throats constantly. Chaewon seemed so comfortable here, and even though Taehyung was mostly quiet -you were starting to think he was trying to decipher the relationship between you and Jungkook with the way he kept staring back and forth between you two- even he didn’t seem to be guarded despite being in another mafia leader’s territory. 

“We enjoyed the basket, thank you,” Jungkook said, bringing your focus back to the conversation. You watched him lean back in his seat as his gaze drifted to you, the ghost of an amused look haunting his features, “the champagne particularly was quite the ice breaker.”

You’d tried to kill him using that bottle and yet here he was practically mocking you about it not even 24 hours later. You threw him a sweet smile, as if you were reliving a fond memory, hoping he would pick up on the hidden glare in your gaze. But that only made his grin widen. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Chaewon clapped, not seeming to pick up on the tension between you both, “I wasn’t aware of your distaste for alcohol though, Y/N. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind in the future.”

You faced her with what you hoped was a grateful smile, “it’s okay, I really liked the scented candles.”

It had actually been Persilla that had been obsessed with them, the vanilla scented one seeming to be her favourite. 

The dining room was mostly quiet following that, the four of you finishing up your food in a comfortable silence. Inwardly you were gagging at the combination of shrimp and banana milk you’d decided to torment yourself with. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, every few minutes or so you’d catch Jungkook trying to suppress a sly grin, the man being the only one in the room, to your knowledge at least, who knew the reality of your predicament. You scowled, annoyed by his satisfaction until an idea came to mind. 

Well, you could always hit two birds with one stone. 

You reached over your plate to grab your glass of banana milk, bringing it towards yourself to give the impression that you were going to drink from it. But at the last moment, you let the bottom of the glass catch on your plate, causing the entire thing to tip from your fingers. It clattered onto the table, splashing all over Jungkook’s plate and seated form, making him flinch. 

You instantly gasped dramatically, hands going to cover your mouth and eyes widening as you squeaked, “I’m so sorry!”

With Taehyung and Chaewon’s focus shifting to the spill on the table, the roll of Jungkook’s eyes went unnoticed by them. 

“It’s okay, it was only an accident,” he forced out, pushing his chair away from the table’s edge and widening his thighs to evade the rest of the milk. You had to hide your smile behind your hands as you watched the no doubt cold milk seep into his pants. 

Taehyung picked up the box of napkins, which had been near his plate, and held it out to the younger man, causing Jungkook to stretch over the table to receive it. But just as Jungkook grabbed the box, you noticed Taehyung’s brows suddenly furrow, his eyes seeming to stay fixed at a particular spot on Jungkook’s neck. 

You followed his gaze curiously. The first few buttons of Jungkook’s black shirt had been undone, revealing a sliver of his collarbone and chest, but as Jungkook stretched you noticed the fabric shift to expose more of the area, which you realised was covered in red patches that looked a lot like… hickies. You and Taehyung weren’t the only ones that caught this as you noticed Chaewon smirk, her gaze travelling between you both. 

Jungkook himself was the last to notice the stares as he pressed some tissues against the wet material of his pants, most of which was prominent on his lap. Yet when he did notice them, even you knew that Taehyung and Chaewon’s questioning looks wouldn’t allow for him to get out of this without an explanation. 

You expected him to wave them off with a lame excuse anyway, like it was a rash or he’d burned himself somehow. You could call Jungkook many things, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy that enjoyed making suggestive jokes or conversation. Nor did he seem like the kind of guy to divulge in his sexual escapades. 

But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead he paused, similar to earlier when he had entered the room, and seemed to think something over. Then his gaze dropped on you, and the mischief in his eyes gave you the odd feeling that you should prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 

You should have listened to that feeling. 

Jungkook broke his eye contact with you, his lips twitching into what suspiciously seemed like a smirk, before he turned to face Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I guess Y/N got a bit carried away earlier.”

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped open as Chaewon gasped, her hands instantly going to her chest as if she couldn’t believe it. From your peripheral vision you could make out Taehyung slumping against the back of his chair, as if he had finally given up on trying to figure the two of you out. 

“Y/N! I would have never guessed you were the freaky type,” Chaewon laughed, her gaze seeming to take you in a different light. Your hands curled into fists under the table. 

Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing by dropping a comment like that, and you were far from stupid enough not to see it. By insinuating that there was a more suggestive side of you, he was slowly starting to break down your performance of an innocent girl capable of doing no wrong in the eyes of others. 

You’d promised to kill him, and now he’d seemingly decided he wanted to kill the image you’d spent years cultivating. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself as Jungkook’s hand hooked under your chair to drag it towards him, allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulder when he was close enough. Even in the midst of your subdued anger you noticed just how close the sharp cut of his jawline was in this position, and not to mention the tiny mole under his bottom lip that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“It’s okay, princess,” he said, sounding sweet but you knew it was meant to be mocking, “you don’t have to be shy in front of them.”

You were going to kill him. You were going to shoot him so many times that by the time you were done with him he was going to look like a giant block of swiss cheese-

“Well, we should probably get going,” Taehyung said suddenly, his eyes focused on reading something on his phone before pocketing the device, “I think Suho is starting to get fussy again, plus we should get going if we want to get back home before it gets too dark.”

Taehyung offered a hand to Chaewon to help her get up from her seat, a classy smile gracing her lips as her gaze met yours, “that’s our son by the way. You must meet him the next time we meet.”

“I would love to. I love children,” you said with a tight smile as you and Jungkook got up from your seats, exchanging polite pleasantries all the way to the front door.

“You know, that’s not very surprising to me,” Chaewon commented while Taehyung looped an arm around hers. You waved to each other with smiles, watching him guide her into an orange car before driving around the fountain and disappearing through the tall gates. 

The second the front door closed your smile dropped, replaced by an annoyed scowl that you threw in Jungkook’s direction. He regarded you as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know about the North, but in the South we have this thing called personal space. You should try it out some time,” you said, to which Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“Have you ever seen a married couple have personal space? Really Y/N, must I explain the birds and the bees to you?

You huffed as he walked past you, climbing up the stairs casually while you started following behind him. 

“Why does it even matter if people know how dysfunctional this marriage is? We’re married, how is that not enough?”

It really did not make sense to you why he was so dead set on selling this image of a perfect marriage to others. Back in the South, there was not one marriage a mafia leader was a part of where it wasn’t in complete shambles, and that was very public knowledge to everyone in, and even outside of, the territory. Yet, that didn’t seem to affect the level of control or power the southern mafia leaders had. So why was Jungkook making it out to be such a big deal?

But the question stopped him in his tracks, causing him to turn around on the stairs to give you an incredulous look, as if what you had asked was almost alien. 

“I don’t know how it works in the South, but in the North it very much matters,” he said slowly, gaze fixed on yours, “we must present ourselves as perfect in every aspect of our lives, or there are a number of enemies that would have no problem taking advantage of even the most miniscule flaw.”

You scoffed, “that’s dumb.”

Jungkook turned away from you, not bothering to comment on the mindless remark, as he continued to resume his path up the stairs. When he finally made it to the top and walked up to his bedroom’s door, he pushed it open and walked inside. 

Your breath instantly stalled as you followed behind him, gaze darting around the room quickly to see if Persilla was anywhere in his sights. You knew you didn’t need to worry, Persilla was a master of remaining unseen, she’d managed to hide from everyone in the house when you’d been living in the South with your father after all. You’d even opened the door to the balcony slightly, allowing her to roam outside freely if she wanted to, so she might not have even been in the room anyway. You exhaled slowly, successful in convincing yourself that the little black cat you’d grown to care for and love would be fine. 

Jungkook’s breath, on the other hand, came out as a low huff when he noticed the balcony door ajar. He walked over to it quickly, closing it before giving you a chastising look. One you ignored obviously. 

Instead you casually turned away from him to enter into the bathroom, grabbing a few makeup wipes before returning back into the bedroom and plopping yourself down on the fluffy duvet of the bed. You began wiping off the various light sparkles and pinks that softened your face, as if you were taking off a doll-like mask. 

“You’re an annoying little thing, aren’t you?” He commented as he watched your nonchalant demeanour. 

Then it was your turn to watch him disappear into his closet for a moment, the muffled sounds of clothes moving around reaching your ears, before he emerged in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black short sleeve t-shirt. 

But you particularly noticed his right arm, which was covered in a full sleeve of tattoos ending just above his wrist. The ink travelled over the smooth ridges of his skin, taut from the firm muscles underneath. Your gaze immediately dropped to the small trash can next to the bedside table, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, as you focused on throwing the used wipes into the bin. 

You then leaned back on the mattress, arms holding you upright, trying to get your focus back on track, “I like how forgetting to close the balcony door annoys you and not the fact that I want you dead.”

That made Jungkook smile, amusement clear in his eyes, “I’m still standing here though, aren’t I?”

Your reply was quick.

“It won’t be for long.”

“Right,” Jungkook nodded, his words laced into a patronising chuckle, “but while you’re working on that, I need you to actually act like my wife. We’re lucky Taehyung and Chaewon didn’t notice anything, the public won’t be so inattentive.”

You tilted your head, “yes, I wonder what the public would have said about the hickies on your neck.”

Jungkook mirrored your movements, the edges of his lips twitching.

“I think they would be glad to be under the impression that we’re hard at work trying to produce an heir.”

“That’s only if your side piece stays quiet.” 

“Careful, Y/N,” Jungkook tutted, “you sound almost jealous.”

“Jealous?” You repeated incredulously, sitting up straighter with an evidently offended expression, “your girl is sleeping with a dead man walking. Is that something to be jealous of?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, continuing to direct an amused gaze in your direction, before he turned away, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his hair, “relax, princess, there’s no other girl. I just went hunting earlier and got a few mosquito bites. Nothing more.”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” you shrugged before falling back onto the mattress, the softness of the duvet making your limbs feel heavy with exhaustion. The position caused your dress to ride up to the middle of your thighs, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. He looked away when he realised he was staring, choosing instead to focus his gaze on the bright moon outside the window. 

“We may be as far from in love with each other as the moon is to the earth, but I still won’t risk messing around with others outside this relationship,” he said. There was a pause after his words, as if he were expecting you to say something, but you let the silence ensue. There really was nothing you wanted to add anyway. 

A noise made you lift your head, allowing you to see Jungkook unlocking the door to his office before he turned his head to you, “just get used to whatever happened at dinner today. There will be much more where that came from in the future.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the room while locking the door behind him. Jungkook immediately walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to place them on the desk.

The loud clink of the glass against the wood of the desk made Jungkook frown, annoyed by his getting annoyed at your lack of reply. Yet, it was evident that he was indeed irritated by it. Of course you wouldn’t agree not to mess around with others, you had your ‘boyfriend’ waiting for you back in the South. 

He certainly wasn’t messing around with anyone. After meeting Taehyung at the docks, Jungkook had gone to meet with the leader of an independent gang in the West, who, to his distaste, was a huge fan of hunting. So naturally they’d met in a forest to hunt for a few hours, before Jungkook had convinced the man to be at his disposal. Jungkook has always been prone to mosquito bites, but that day the mosquitos seemed to have taken a particular liking to his neck and arms, despite what Taehyung and Chaewon might have thought. 

It didn’t matter to him, though, that you had a boyfriend. Yes, it really didn’t. He was just annoyed because if someone found out about him, then Jungkook’s reputation would take a hit. The news would spread like a wildfire, and the outcome would be far from good. 

He didn’t even know how well you could hide a secret like that. What if you slipped up somewhere? What if the dude did? It would be a disaster. 

Jungkook placed his glass down, the whiskey momentarily forgotten as he grabbed his phone and leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen in thought. This was for the good of his leadership, not anything personal. Yes, that’s right. 

Mind made, Jungkook quickly dialled a familiar number, waiting barely a single ring before a male voice sounded from the device. 

“Hello sir, was there something I could help you with?”

Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around the glass on his desk, “tell the informant I want him to investigate Lee Y/N’s room at the Lee mansion. I want to find out everything we can about the man Y/N was talking on the phone with before our marriage, and if there’s anything else unusual I want to be informed of it as well.”

“Yes, of course sir,” the voice said immediately, “I’ll let him know as soon as possible. Is that all?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, thinking over the question. This had been an impromptu call after all.

Stuck in his thoughts, he brought the glass into his hand, swirling the liquid in it for a second before taking a modest sip.

His reflexes acted before his mind did; the second he registered the hint of a metallic taste he lurched forward, spitting the liquid back into the glass in a matter of a second. Even with that little exposure he could start to feel his tongue burn slightly, causing him to instantly open the drawer of his desk and grab a water bottle. The water soothed his mouth as he quickly swished it between his teeth before spitting it out and repeating the process a few times.

“Sir? Sir?! Is everything okay?” The voice rang from his phone, Jungkook almost forgetting about him for a second. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, it was nothing. That will be all, thank you.”

He ended the call, grimacing in discomfort at the feel of his slightly sensitive tongue against the roof of his mouth. So you’d managed to find a way to sneak into his office. He shouldn’t have been very surprised by that, you seemed to have a talent for getting into places where you shouldn’t. 

Jungkook sighed as he eyed his liquor cabinet, realising that he’d have to throw it all. But as his gaze raised, it seemed to catch an empty slot in his bookshelf. Curiously he walked over to it, hand hovering over the hollow space between a book about war tactics and a book about his family’s history. 

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. You’d obviously taken one of his books, but whether it was for casual reading or for something more he couldn’t tell. 

He ignored the pang of pain that rippled throughout his mouth as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, his gaze falling back to his desk. With Jimin’s attacks, he had a lot of work he was going to have to do, and now seemed like the perfect time to get that done considering he was not going to go back into his bedroom, which you had taken over. 

He sighed. 

It was going to be a long night. 

-

-

-

You remained seated on the bed as you watched Jungkook lock the door behind him, leaving you alone in his bedroom once again. You hoped he enjoyed the nice present you’d dropped into his liquor bottles this morning, because you were just about ready to be shipped off back to the Lee mansion and watch your plan unfold in the perfect way you’d outlined it to. 

The sound of something tapping against glass caught your attention, causing you to turn towards the balcony. It was hard to spot her in the dead of night, her black fur blending into the dark so well that her feline eyes were the only thing about her you could really make out. But even then, there was no doubt in your mind that it was Persilla trying to get your attention from outside of the balcony door. 

You stood, sending a wary glance in the direction of Jungkook’s office’s door, before slowly pushing yourself off the mattress and making your way towards the glass. You paused in front of it for a moment, taking a deep breath before closing your eyes. Your hands blindly felt in front of you, moving erratically in the air for a moment before you could feel the handle between your fingers. You pulled on it, hearing the sound of the door opening as well as the feel of the fresh airy breeze on your face.

The second you felt Persilla’s small body walking between your feet, you pushed the door close, sighing in relief when you opened your eyes. 

You crouched down to pet Persilla’s head, scratching against her chin when she purred delightfully. It was only when she moved her head upwards, showcasing her collar, when you paused, your gaze catching onto something white wedged between the sleek leather and her furry neck. 

“Do you have something for me, Persilla?” You asked, fingers pinching the thing, which you realised was a folded note, and bringing it out of its confines. You unfolded it, eyes widening after scanning it and recognising the familiar strokes of black pen on its surface.

It’s done.

We should meet soon.

~ H

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Also Jungkook when he finds out about Persilla: 🧍‍♂️

Chapter 10: Broke

<< previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter >>

A/N: all my responsibilities are stressing me out, so take this update ✨ The next update for this story might be written

Taglist: @honeybear-taetae @pastelpeachess

The Crab Cult || Chapter 11

Summary: a new year of university has begun, but the crab cult remains the same as it's always been.

Pairing: archmajor!Jimin x archmajor!reader

Genre: university au, smau, crack

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

Taglist: @parapiop7 @honeybear-taetae @pastelpeachess

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Jimin’s shoes thudded against the hard concrete beneath him as he jogged towards Fifth Street, the sound echoing throughout the empty campus in the darkness of the night. There was a slight sinking feeling in his chest as he got further and further away from his calculus building, the one he knew was currently filled to the brim with students taking the first out of the three block exams of the year. 

He should have been there too, stressing over partial derivatives and linear approximation. But he wasn’t. 

Instead, he was running towards you. 

Jimin came to a halt before the infamous Fifth Street, his gaze scanning the area before it finally dropped on your form. You were sitting on one of the benches, scrolling mindlessly through your phone while your shoe bounced against the ground restlessly. He had to stand there for a moment, hidden behind a particularly large building, as he caught his breath. You couldn’t know that he’d practically run across campus to get here, because then you’d think he liked you.

And he didn’t. He had tried to explain to Hoseok a hundred times that his feelings weren’t serious. Yes, he’d had a crush on you from the second Jungkook had introduced you as his best friend to the group in first year- Jimin was pretty sure everyone did at that time. Who could blame them? You were gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that turned heads and made people stumble over their words.  

Eventually though, as the friendships started to strengthen, the guys got over their crushes and the group fell into a very platonic harmony. You made fun of them, they made fun of you; all was right with the world. 

Your and Jimin’s relationship has always been a bit different from the others though, and that had a lot to do with the fact that you both were in the same architectural engineering program. Since that meant you had to take most classes together, and because both you and Jimin seemed very set on being the best of your class, your relationship had turned more into a rivalry. 

Jimin blames that rivalry for how much longer it was taking him to get over his crush compared to the others. Although he would never admit it out loud, he loved the teasing and bantering you both seemed to participate in so often. It was different than when he did it with the others; there was just something so enamoring about watching you roll your eyes at him, the edges of your lips twitching to suppress a smile while Jimin teased you over a 1% difference in grades. 

And then there were those moments when the two of you were alone, like the time at Hoseok’s party or the time you both went out for ramen and ice cream, when you both are too tired to keep up the rivalry and the walls start to come down. Those moments, to Jimin at least, are dangerous, because that’s when you both start to talk, really talk, about responsibilities and insecurities and anything else that he’d usually prefer to keep to himself. 

“Jimin?”

His once straying gaze raised suddenly to find you pushing yourself off the wooden bench. You jogged over to him while pocketing your cell phone, brows furrowed to form a questioning look. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked. 

He also couldn’t tell you that he was here because the thought of you walking through Fifth Street by yourself put his mind into an excessively alarming state, especially knowing its unique reputation, so instead he stretched his arms overhead, trying to seem as casual as possible. 

“I saw your post on Twitter and remembered that I had to get some snacks for my dorm,” he shrugged, his gaze subconsciously scanning the area. It was mostly empty, nothing but the streetlamps making an effort to liven up the place.

Your head tilted at the response, “but… I thought you had a calc exam tonight?”

When you had gotten the text from Jimin that he was going to come with you, that had been the first thought to pop into your head. You’d taken that calculus class last semester with the same professor, and if you had learned anything about her in those months, it was that her late policies were non-existent and you doubted even the president could change her mind to be even a bit more lenient. 

“No, that’s tomorrow night,” he lied. He didn’t want you to feel bad about him missing the exam. In the end, it was his decision to ditch it, a decision that he would probably chastise himself for tomorrow, but for now he chose not to dwell on it. 

“Oh, okay then,” you said, a smile passing over your features before Jimin began to lead the two of you towards the only convenience store on this side of campus. 

You both walked in silence for a few moments, Jimin’s bare arm brushing against yours once in a while. He looked really good tonight, too good if you were being honest, with his black short sleeve t-shirt, baseball cap, and track pants. The light from the streetlamps were casting a soft glow on his skin, it was reminding you of that night at Hoseok’s party. Except this time you and Jimin were far from drunk. 

“So, how do you think Jin and Namjoon are at the moment?” He asked mindlessly, his steps in sync with your own as he pocketed his hands. 

The question made you giggle, “I bet they’re having a blast without us. Jin has always liked Namjoon the most anyway.”

“So rude of him to choose that nerd over us. What does he have that we don’t?” He joked. 

“Well, I’m hot, smart, funny and amazing company, so I can’t say anything about myself.”

“Humble too.”

“Yes exactly,” you said, fully aware of the delusions escaping your lips at the moment, “you on the other hand I can give a few reasons.”

You could tell Jimin was trying hard not to laugh at you as he raised an eyebrow, daring you to continue. 

“You’re not that smart, definitely not as smart as me, and you may be attractive, but you’re nowhere near as funny as-”

“Oh?” Jimin suddenly interrupted your senseless rambling, “you think I’m attractive?” 

You turned in his direction to shoot back a retort, something along the lines of “to an ogre maybe” because god forbid you compliment Park Jimin in any way, but the sight of him seemed to suddenly catch you off guard. The two of you had moved to the part of the street that was away from the streetlamps, bathing Jimin in nothing but the moon’s light. He looked almost ethereal as pale blue washed over his skin, emphasising the pink of his lips. You felt like a fish caught in the hook of a fishing rod, unable to look away from the image before you. 

You were only able to rip your gaze away from him when you both found yourselves standing in front of the convenience store, its lights casting a suddenly harsh artificial luminescence against your skins. Jimin cleared his throat, while you shuffled awkwardly in place. 

You mumbled a small thanks to him when he held the door open for you, letting you pass before he followed behind. It was empty except for one student who was sitting at the cashier, too focused on reading the textbook before him to even give the both of you a glance. 

You went straight to the back of the store, plucking some ramen and fruit gummies off the shelves expertly while eyeing the fridge of drinks. But your gaze caught Jimin’s form, who you didn’t realise was standing behind you like a shadow, hands empty of anything. 

“I thought you were going to get snacks?” You asked, raising a brow in his direction. You watched him survey the shelves momentarily before his eyes landed back on you. 

“Actually, I’m not in the mood for snacks anymore.”

Jungkook hadn’t been joking when he said that Jimin had gone broke from the night of ramen and ice cream you both had indulged in. He didn’t blame you or anything, technically speaking he didn’t have to pay for you and he knew you wouldn’t have minded paying for yourself at all, but Jimin loved spoiling others and spoiling you just seemed to make him extra happy for some reason. Besides, his scholarship money was coming in a few days, so he just had to survive till then. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, choosing instead to turn around and grab a few more packets of ramen and fruit gummies, and then a tub of cheese balls, before making your way to the cashier. 

“Y/N…” Jimin chastised with a frown, watching the student quickly scan your stuff, clearly eager to get back to his studying, “since when do you like cheese balls?”

You shrugged, tapping your card on the machine just as quickly as the student before Jimin could catch onto you, “I don’t, still don’t understand how you like them either, but who am I to judge? I’m about to eat ramen and fruit gummies together.”

You took the bags from the student, thanking him as you both made your way out of the store. As you both began walking away, you pushed one of the bags in Jimin’s direction, ignoring his protests. 

“Hey, you paid for the ramen and ice cream last time, this is the least I could do,” you said, pushing the bag onto him so much that Jimin had no choice but to take it from you with a frown. You laughed at his hesitant expression, “but this doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for stealing those $2 from me.”

Jimin joined in on your laughter, “stealing? You’re the one who sent it to me.”

“It was an accident you thief,” you shot back with a grin, “I get that you're jealous of my spectacular grades, but stealing money from me is a bit low even for you.”

“Your grades? Didn’t you get 3% less than me in the last physics test?”

You sent a light punch to his arm, which only seemed to amuse him even more. 

“Just wait for the next one, I’ll demolish you, Park Jimin.”

“Ohh I’m so scared.”

You went for his arm again, but this time his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping it in its tracks. Jimin had only meant it playfully, but as your hand fell, his fingers brushed against yours, dangerously similar to when people hold hands. He let go of your wrist immediately, the odd feeling from earlier returning. 

It was your turn to clear your throat this time, although breaking free from the moment made you realise that you had arrived at your residence. You hadn’t even realised Jimin had been guiding you both here the entire time. 

“Well… that’s my dorm…” you announced unnecessarily, the building in question standing a few metres away from you both. 

Jimin turned to face you, “yeah, I should get going then.” 

A silence followed his words, one you couldn’t quite decipher. You got the feeling he was expecting something more, or maybe you were just projecting your own feelings onto the moment. It came as a surprise to you that you felt that way. That perhaps… deep down… you wanted Jimin to ask whether he could stay. 

But that wasn’t possible, so when he said, “goodnight Y/N” in a voice that was oddly similar to a whisper, almost as if not to break the peace of the silent midnight atmosphere, you weren’t surprised. 

You had barely remembered to reply back before Jimin began to walk past you, shoulder just barely ghosting over your own as you listened to his retreating steps. You began to take your own steps towards your dorms, but you only managed about a metre before you turned around suddenly, not able to hold yourself back. You could both continue your rivalry tomorrow. 

“Thank you.”

Because even though Jimin had claimed that he had joined you for the sake of snacks, a small part of you seemed to have a deeper understanding of his actions. 

Jimin, who had turned around to meet your gaze, gave you a small smile, and you couldn’t help but think it was one of the most genuine ones you’d ever witnessed. His voice was the same as it was when he had wished you goodnight as he replied. 

“Don’t mention it.”