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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.
-
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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.
-
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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.
-
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-
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.”
Fool's Gold || Part III
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: 15.5k
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
A/N: it's finally here! Sorry for the wait, things have just been really busy lately... but I hope you enjoy!
<< previous part || masterlist || next part >>
Living with you has been an absolute nightmare.
Obviously Jungkook had known that dropping poison in his champagne and whiskey wouldn’t be the end of your little assassination attempt; he’d expected you to continue doing whatever was in your power to make good on your threat. He may have been a little cocky about it too, teasing you over the fact that he was standing before you unscathed, but the logical part of him still knew to keep his guard up constantly.
What he hadn’t realised was how exhausting it would all be.
You’d been here only four days and Jungkook had already had to evade poison in his toothpaste, a suspicious looking pin wedged into the insole of his shoe, and garlic juice in his cologne- the last one seeming far from a homicide attempt and closer to just pissing him off.
Dealing with that alone was one thing, because it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. But on top of it all, Jungkook hadn’t slept properly in days. He’d found himself dozing off for a few minutes here and there while holed up in his office at night occasionally, but he had mostly just stuck to spending his nights working, especially on the Park issue. He couldn’t risk actually sleeping in his office considering he knew that you had the ability to bypass the lock. And besides, as much as he would appreciate a few extra hours of sleep, Jungkook still had to be ready for if Jimin decided to attack again, even if he’d been quiet so far.
One of those preparations involved speaking with your father, which was why you and Jungkook were seated in one of the guest houses at 8:00 AM in the morning while your father was sat casually on the creme-coloured settee across from the mahogany coffee table before you both. The guest house was situated near the gates of Jungkook’s estate, still within its borders, but far enough that it had its own entrance and ensured guests wouldn’t end up too close to his house, just how he liked it.
The initial meeting with your father had been awkward, though Jungkook may have been the only one to catch onto it. Your father hadn’t embraced you or kissed your cheek or told you how much he missed you, instead he had sent a formal nod in your direction before giving Jungkook a firm handshake. After that your father had barely spared you a glance, addressing Jungkook as if he were the only one in the room. You didn’t seem very offended by this either, your gaze instead drifting around the space looking almost bored as the two men conversed casually for a few minutes.
It was an interesting detail, one Jungkook tucked into the back of his sleep-deprived mind.
“The differences between the North and South have surprised me a ton,” Mr. Lee commented, taking a sip from the teacup in his hand. His accent was rough, no doubt a product of his upbringing in the South, “you guys do things a lot more softly here in the North.”
It was a jab, Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough not to know that, especially knowing how rough things were in the South. That comment was enough for him to know that your father was the type of man that liked to put others down to make himself seem superior. It only amused Jungkook though, because as per the culture, your father already had a bit of an upper hand since he was older, and yet he still felt the need to talk down to him.
Distantly, he wondered if your father’s personality had something to do with why you decided to hide your true personality even from him.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Jungkook decided to reply dryly, not bothering to bite back. If he had learned anything, it was how to choose his battles, and an ego trip was not worth it in his books.
Instead his gaze drifted towards your seemingly aloof form. It was a bit unnerving to see you look so quiet and proper, almost like he was being shown a third side of you. Your facade was still definitely up though, no one could miss the slight widening of your eyes and faint pout of your lips to feign an innocent look, but this version of your act was definitely more placid.
Jungkook’s gaze travelled back to your father as he smiled, a sudden urge to get you to react overtaking him, “it’s definitely been an adjustment for your daughter.”
At your mention, your wandering eyes were reeled back to meet the gazes of the two men before you once again, but, unlike during the dinner with Taehyung and Chaewon, that was the extent of your reaction to the obvious dig. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction as you continued to sit silently beside him, an innocent expression still painting your already heavily painted features.
Despite the topic, Mr. Lee’s gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook, “hope she hasn’t been too much trouble. She used to be quite the spitfire growing up, but thankfully I fixed her right up before she could bring that attitude into adulthood. Can’t imagine how I would’ve gotten her married if I hadn’t.”
The room became quiet as Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his place, your father’s words, which sounded so casual on his tongue, unable to settle comfortably within him. Jungkook wasn’t so naive as to believe that “fixed her up” alluded to gentle parenting and stern lectures. And if his guesses as to how your father might have disciplined you growing up were correct, then you had his sympathies. Jungkook’s childhood wasn’t exactly filled with rainbows and butterflies, the son of a mafia leader’s childhood never is, but everything his father had done was for the betterment of the Jeons, not so Jungkook could be a good slave to a spouse.
“No,” he finally decided to answer, “she hasn’t been any trouble at all.”
If your father’s comment had bothered you, you didn’t show it. But Jungkook was still eager to change the subject.
Before he could, however, he was surprised when he felt you straighten up beside him and beat him to it.
“How is Hannah doing, father?”
Despite all his research, Jungkook had no clue who Hannah was. He’d never even heard of the name before, which he found surprising considering how well he made sure to research the Lees before his marriage. Nevertheless it was clear to him that whoever this Hannah was, she was important. You’d asked the question with your usual soft voice, a casual hint in your tone, but Jungkook had known you long enough at this point to see past your act. He could see the way your gaze had turned calculating, taking in each and every expression that flitted across your father’s face as he took a sip from his teacup before he finally allowed himself to take you in.
“She's doing fine,” he answered after a moment, voice void of any emotion, “very fine actually.”
Jungkook didn’t miss the subtle jump in your eyebrows at his words, so subtle that he doubted your father would notice it even though he was finally acknowledging your presence.
“But you should start worrying more about this place, Y/N. This is your home now after all.”
Your gaze immediately dropped at his words as you gave him a timid nod, ditzy Y/N clearly back in full swing. Most would have witnessed this interaction and seen a loving daughter being rejected by her cold, heartless father. But looking past your act of innocence, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel that there was more to this interaction than that. The relationship you had with your father was weird. If Jungkook hadn’t known either of you, he wouldn’t have guessed that you were more than mere acquaintances with how distant you both seemed. No love, no animosity, just… impassive.
And yet, despite this clearly uncommunicative relationship, you’d spoken up only once in this entire conversation to ask about a person named Hannah - or rather you had wanted confirmation about something regarding Hannah, and judging from the way your expression had returned to that naively bored look, you had gotten the confirmation you were seeking. Neither of you had offered to identify who Hannah was to Jungkook either, so he doubted asking would prove to be very useful.
If only Jungkook had the mind to figure everything out on his own at this moment. He’d already had to stifle three yawns since the beginning of the conversation, all of which he was able to hide only because your father had initially seemed very interested in scanning the contents of the guest house. Hopefully he’d get better at hiding his exhaustion as the day progressed, he had a long day ahead of him after all.
Your father caught Jungkook’s attention once again when he leaned forward to place his empty teacup on the mahogany coffee table in front of him. The teacup clinked against the wood before he leaned back into the settee, giving Jungkook a questioning look.
“So, now that we’ve got the chit chat out of the way, why’d you need to see me so desperately?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Jungkook ignored the arrogant structuring of his words once again, gaze instead drifting to you, who was keenly scanning the front page of a newspaper that had been haphazardly placed on the coffee table to give the room a more homey feel.
He wasn’t entirely sure whether you knew anything about Jimin’s attack on the West Docks. Yes, you had broken into his office once, but Jungkook didn’t leave important stuff like that just lying around so technically you didn’t have any way of knowing about it. Jungkook preferred if you didn’t, because obviously the less you knew the better. You were trying to kill him after all, and as much as he liked to make a joke out of it, he wasn’t dumb enough not to at least partially take it seriously.
So Jungkook shifted in his seat to face you, the action catching your previously wandering attention, before he placed a hand on your knee. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hesitant, but thankfully you didn’t flinch at the contact.
“Why don’t you go freshen up, princess? Your father and I have some business to discuss, and then after that you and I have somewhere to be.”
Jungkook watched your eyebrows twitch, though whether it was from the nickname or in question of where the two of you would be heading he didn’t know. But then your gaze flickered to your father’s direction for a moment before you quietly nodded.
You stood from the settee, ignoring the way Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your knee, brushed against your skin as it fell. When you faced your father, hands clutched before you, he was already looking up at you with a familiarly indifferent expression.
“It was nice seeing you again, father,” you said formally, keeping your voice light and soft as you offered him a small bow. You were returned a formal nod, another familiar action, before you turned away from the two men and pushed through the double doors of the guest house.
A deep sigh escaped your lips the moment you heard the door shut behind you, feeling as though someone had lifted an anvil off your chest. Your father’s presence had always felt suffocating, you were just glad that the two of you being in the same room has also always been a rare occurrence in itself.
You didn’t have time to dwell on that fact as the beauty of Jungkook’s estate now stood before you in all its glory. Lush green grass surrounding a stone walkway, colourful flowers popping out of strategically placed beds, and large, but maintained, Japanese Maple trees scattered here and there were all organised neatly to form a breathtaking courtyard.
This was the one thing you could unconditionally appreciate about Jungkook’s estate. Most leaders’ estates screamed money with the various marble statues of themselves and their families littering their front yards and excessive landscaping drenching the flowers and grass in stone and metal. But Jungkook’s was filled with greenery, as if you were walking through an enormous garden. You loved it.
While surveying the area your gaze dropped to the stone pathway before you, the one you and Jungkook had walked through to get to the guest house and also the one you were certain Jungkook was expecting you to take after being kicked out of said guest house. You stared at it for no more than three seconds, not even bothering to think it over, before you spun around in your spot and pressed your ear to the door you had just emerged from.
There was something wrong.
Although alliances were a very uncommon thing in the South, you were still smart enough to know that business deals between allies should be eased into slowly, not started four days after a marriage. This meeting was happening way too soon, which made you doubt it was business-related at all.
Jungkook needed something from the Lees. The only question was what?
After leaning quietly against the door for a few minutes, you were only able to pick up a few words here and there between quick stifled yawns. It would’ve disappointed you if it wasn’t for the one name you managed to catch Jungkook say as clear day.
Park Jimin.
The leader of the Parks. The man whose close friend consisted of the ruthless Min Yoongi, leader of the Mins. Both mafias were located north of Taehyung and Jungkook’s territories. Personally, you’ve never heard of any ongoing disputes between the four, but if Jungkook was mentioning Park’s name in a meeting with your father, there had to be something going on.
That would be perfect, because if you killed Jungkook while he was having a feud with Jimin, then Jungkook’s death would be more likely to be pinned on Jimin, allowing you to bear no consequences and be sent back to the Lees without a scratch.
Except… it wasn’t perfect, because killing Jungkook had proven to be a lot harder than you had anticipated.
Killing your first husband had been child’s play. Even after you’d grabbed the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest, his men had taken one look at the scene and ruled you out before you had even had the chance to construct a detailed tale of an assassin that had come through the window and shot him dead. They had been complete idiots, entirely unable to see the doe-eyed girl with frilly pink dresses and a soft airy voice as anything more than that.
But this case was an entirely different challenge. You’d realised on the very night of your wedding that the people around Jungkook, as well as Jungkook himself of course, were not as stupid. You knew that if you tried to pull the same stunt again, you’d be pinned for the murder eventually. It’s why you hadn't even bothered to search for some kind of weapon in Jungkook’s mansion, nor had you tried to steal the gun you knew stayed sat on Jungkook’s waistband at every moment of the day. If you used a weapon to kill Jungkook, you’d be caught.
That’s why you had stuck to poisons as your main choice of weapon. The collection of toxins you had managed to smuggle into the mansion, all thanks to Persilla of course, was made to make kills look like nature’s fate. Yet, despite dropping toxins into anything that could possibly make contact with Jungkook’s mouth or skin for the past four days, your efforts were proving to be futile. Jungkook’s knack for catching onto small details was just a difficult barrier to overcome.
You knew H hadn’t sent you that note to pressure you into speeding up Jungkook’s murder, and you hadn’t taken it in that way at first, but now that four days had passed you were beginning to think about changing your methods. It would be more complicated, but you needed to get this done quickly.
A gun would be the best way to finish him off in your opinion; it was the one weapon you were a master of and getting a hold of one shouldn’t be too difficult with all the guards milling around the estate. Then all you’d need to do was get Jungkook alone, shoot him dead, and then plant some evidence that pointed towards the Parks. You’d need to be careful, but it was doable a-
“Now look what I’ve found.”
You snapped away from the door and whirled around, startled entirely as a male voice suddenly spoke up from behind you. You were met with the view of a man, one you’ve never seen before, standing a couple metres away from your form, his hair as light brown as his eyes. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, while the buttons of his white polo shirt were open to reveal a sliver of his neck.
“I seem to have caught a nosy little mouse.”
You wanted to ask him who he was and what he was doing here. Anyone within the gates of Jungkook’s estate had to be close to him, you’d learned that much during your stay here. Yet, Jungkook had failed to mention this man at all.
But before you could voice your questions, the man stepped forward, brown dress shoes tapping against the stone beneath you both, and held out a hand, “I’m Daehyun, Jungkook’s cousin. We haven’t formally been introduced.”
Tentatively, because you still had an act to uphold, you reached out to shake his hand, making sure to keep your grip weak, “I’m Y/N.”
Then you remembered that eavesdropping on a conversation between Jungkook and your dad may not seem like the most innocent thing to Daehyun. So you quickly mustered up a believable excuse.
“I swear I wasn’t trying to listen to their conversation! I just…”
You paused, pretending to shy away from him to give the illusion that you were embarrassed to admit the blatant lie that was about to escape your lips.
“I just wanted to know if Jungkook would talk about me,” you said, keeping your gaze on the ground as you started fidgeting with your fingers, “he’s not the most talkative man with me, so I just wanted to see if he would admit anything to my father.”
“Mhmm,” Daehyun replied, and you couldn’t help but feel that the tone of his voice gave the impression that he wasn’t paying attention. Finding that strange, you lifted your gaze from the ground hesitantly and observed him. The sight made you grimace inwardly.
Daehyun’s lack of interest could be explained by the fact that he was too busy raking his eyes across your body, taking in your bare legs and neck, almost as if he were entranced. You noticed his fingers twitch as he took in the frills of your pink dress and the silk bow holding up half your hair.
“God, you don’t look a day over 19,” he commented, as if you weren’t even there and he was simply talking to himself, “how old are you, darling?”
This was far from the first time a guy had looked at you as though you were a piece of meat. In fact, your act seemed to garner a lot more attention from the male species than it should. You liked to think that all the years of this had made you immune to moments like these, but deep down you knew it still made your skin crawl.
That being said, the implications of Daehyun’s words were beginning to register in your mind. This was Jungkook’s cousin, his family. It was customary for all male members of mafia families to have a gun with them at all times, which meant that there was a very high probability that, if Daehyun were to turn around, you would catch sight of a shiny black gun wedged into his waistband. He didn’t seem like the intelligent type to you either, which meant this would be a better opportunity to steal a gun compared to snagging one from a constantly alert guard.
All you needed to do was get him a little closer to you.
“Twenty-three,” you finally answered, keeping your voice soft and innocent-sounding. You took the opportunity to take a timid step forward, one that seemed to go unnoticed by Daehyun.
Instead he nodded, as if in approval of your answer, “Jungkook really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t he… I expect you’ll age beautifully. Lucky bastard.”
You pushed down the urge to throw up in your mouth. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t think you had it in you to lead him on in order to steal the gun. He was just way too slimy, saying things that were way too gross.
But turns out, you didn’t really need to say anything as Daehyun took another step towards you, leaving only a hand’s length between yourself and him. You automatically felt yourself tense. If it were up to you, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine. But you were ditzy Y/N at the moment, and ditzy Y/N couldn’t fight back.
Instead you tried to focus on the gun. He was close enough that you could snake your arm behind him without him noticing, but he still needed to get a little closer for you to grab it.
“Relax, darling,” Daehyun soothed, and to both your distaste and relief he placed a hand on your shoulder, closing the distance you needed. Your hand crept forward slowly, stopping at his waistband, “you don’t need to be so tense-”
“Daehyun.”
Crap.
Your empty hand shot back to your side as your gaze snapped to the source of the voice, Daehyun’s following suit less quickly. Jungkook was shutting the door of the guest house behind him, dark eyes fixed on the hand on your shoulder. His voice had been low, the threat in them evident. Yet, Daehyun smiled, instead taking his time in removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back.
“Jungkook,” he nodded, his hands returning to his pockets, “your wife and I were just having a small chat.”
You searched the space behind Jungkook, finding no sign of your father. The guest house had two exits, one that led into Jungkook’s estate and another that led outside of it. Your father must have gone through the latter.
Jungkook gained your attention once again when he took a few steps forward, his sharp gaze fixed on Daehyun, “you can talk without touching.”
Daehyun raised his hands in mock surrender as Jungkook paused in front of you, scanning you from head to toe for a second, before he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away from him, barely sparing him another glance as he started on the stone pathway you knew led to his mansion. There was this one patch of the pathway that you noticed hid the two of you from the attentive eyes of the guards. You took that opportunity to drop your act of innocence.
“Cousin of yours?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Unfortunately.”
Your brows furrowed as you watched Jungkook spit out the word through gritted teeth, keeping his face forward. He was angry. He didn’t like Daehyun, you realised. Yet he seemed to have free access to his house? That didn’t make any sense.
You watched the patch eventually give way to a large circular driveway that laid before the front doors of Jungkook’s mansion. There was a sleek black car already parked on the grey concrete, obscured slightly by the fountain in the circle’s centre. It probably had something to do with what Jungkook was talking about earlier, about how there was somewhere the two of you would be going.
With your innocent facade back up, because you noticed guards milling around this part of the estate, you turned to Jungkook with a curious look, “where are we going?”
He paused for a moment as his gaze dropped on you, and you immediately knew he was choosing his next words carefully, making sure to pick the ones that only allowed you to know as much as he wanted you to.
“We’re going to meet some families,” he finally answered, but you’d already become distracted as you noticed a guard walk up to the window of the black car and begin speaking with the driver, the exposed gun at his hip suddenly looking very attractive to you especially after your failed attempt at snatching Daehyun’s.
“And why is that?” You asked him absentmindedly, wondering if there was any way you could grab the weapon. You’d only need to brush past the guard for a moment to grab and shove it into the holster at your thigh. You knew the frills of your dress would do an amazing job at hiding its outline as well, even from eyes like Jungkook’s.
“There was an accident at the West Docks and a few workers died. We’re going to meet with the families and pay our respects.”
Your attention snapped back to Jungkook, the reminder to keep your expression light coming just a millisecond too late. It was a practically microscopic reaction, but it was enough for Jungkook to pick up on, making him tilt his head in question.
“I’m sorry, what?” You asked without much thought, because you honestly didn’t have anything smarter to say. Why was a mafia leader paying respects to people who weren't part of the family?
You weren't an idiot; it was no coincidence that Jungkook mentioned an incident taking place at the docks around the same time he had a meeting with your father in which he was mentioning Park Jimin’s name. You’d pieced together that said “incident” was more likely some kind of attack, and the one responsible for said attack was probably Park Jimin. If Jimin had attacked Jungkook’s docks, then that meant he was testing how strong the Jeons were at the moment, which further meant that he was interested in taking over the territory. Obviously Jungkook would have wanted to ensure that he had your father’s support if things were to escalate.
People would have died in the attack at the West Docks, that’s how it always worked. Hell, people died at the borders all the time in the South since there was so much animosity between the territories there.
But that’s just how things worked, or at least that’s what you’d heard mafia leaders parrot to each other growing up. “They knew what they were signing up for.” “They’re doing it for the sake of the mafia.” It was the kind of thinking that you loathed, and that exact thinking that you hoped to dismantle bit by bit until everyone, not just you, could see the flaws behind it.
Yet… here Jungkook was, saying he wanted to value those lives lost by paying respects to their mourning families…
It was unbelievable.
However, before either of you could speak, the door of the parked car opened to reveal a man wearing a standard suit. He stepped out onto the concrete, only to turn around in his place and open the door to the backseat. He continued to stay like that, patiently waiting for the two of you.
Jungkook was the first to move, walking around the car to open the door himself and disappear behind the sleek black metal, while you eventually followed behind him, giving the man a soft thank you before sinking into the backseat beside your husband. In a matter of seconds, the doors were shut and you felt the car begin to move beneath you.
There was an unfamiliar silence as you peered through the tinted windows, watching as the car passed through the front gates before submerging into a thick forest. The four days you’ve been at Jungkook’s mansion had been full of constant bickering, that was until someone else would enter the room. Then suddenly you were clasping your hands in front of you and bowing with a soft smile, all while Jungkook hid his cocky grins.
“What? No snappy comebacks today?” Jungkook spoke, probably feeling the uncharacteristic silence as well. Despite noticing that there was a divider between the driver and you both, meaning there was no reason for you to keep your act up, you didn’t answer.
You didn’t know why his earlier words weren’t sitting well with you. Just because Jungkook dropped a few condolences here and there didn’t make him a good person. He was the leader of a mafia after all, and you’d met enough of them to know the kind of people they were: cruel, merciless, and lacking in respect for the ones outside their families. Even the level of care they had for their families was questionable.
But still… this was throwing you off.
You turned around in your seat as a sudden thought came to mind, causing Jungkook’s gaze to shift from the window to your form.
“What do you mean by paying respect?” You asked. Perhaps the phrase meant something different in the North. Perhaps instead of meeting the families and expressing empathy for their loss, he was going to lecture them on the need for martyrs and how the families owed the Jeons for letting them live in their territories. Yes, that made a lot more sense to you.
Jungkook, on the other hand, was looking at you as if you’d gone insane.
“I won’t even begin to answer that question,” he scoffed. But then he seemed to consider something for a moment, probably the fact that you would also be the one paying respects and not knowing what that was might be a hindrance to his perfect image, and spoke with an annoyed sigh, “we will be meeting with the families, relaying a few comforting words. Let them know that we will be supporting them from now on so they can focus solely on overcoming their grief rather than on how they’ll make ends meet moving forward.”
You turned back to your window with a frustrated breath, his answer doing nothing to dissipate your confusion. You might have also faced away from him to hide a stifled yawn. Car rides tended to make you sleepy, and in combination with the fact that you haven’t slept properly throughout your stay at the Jeon Mansion, it was taking a lot of willpower to keep your mind alert at the moment.
“Considering that this will be our first official public appearance, I should also repeat how crucial it will be for you to act like a good wife.”
You rolled your eyes as a huff escaped your lips, “Yeah, I get it.”
“If you getting it means you’ll act better than the way you acted in front of your father, then good,” he commented, which made you turn to him once again with a brow raised.
“What is that supposed to mean? I was fine in front of my father.”
Jungkook shrugged, “you could have been better.”
“How?”
He thought for a moment, mulling it over before he responded with an amused look, “when you were leaving the room, you stood up and just let my hand fall away to the side. Some would take that as a sign that you’re mad at me.”
“I am not going to kiss the ground you walk on just so that a few jobless people will keep their mouths shut,” you shot back. If you were having any qualms about killing him earlier they were entirely gone now. You were going to enjoy each and every moment of gutting the man at your side, not even the slightest hint of guilt.
“Not to mention how quiet you were,” he continued, but this time you could feel the weight of his gaze deepen, “you do know that we’ll have to actually speak to the families, right?”
There was a silent curiosity in his eyes that he didn’t voice, but you knew it was there, though for what exactly it was for you didn’t know. Was he questioning why you were so quiet? If that were the case, you didn’t have an answer; you hadn’t even realised you’d been so quiet during the meeting. Or was he curious about Hannah? You doubted it. With all the research he had done on the Lees and your territory, you guessed he already knew who she was.
“Relax, Jungkook,” you waved him off, “I’ve been acting as someone else for years. You’ll get your nice and loving wife.”
With that settled you turned back to the window, stifling another yawn with your hand.
-
-
-
The first thing you notice when you wake up is the fact that you were actually waking up, meaning that at some point during the ride you had fallen asleep. The second thing you noticed as you were waking up was that whatever thing you were leaning on did not feel like the inner side of a car door. That second realisation had you sitting up in your seat instantly, eyes shooting open to understand the situation.
Outside you could see that there were no longer thick-trunked trees surrounding the road in which you drove on, instead replaced by groups of houses and small apartment buildings. You watched as kids playing in the roughened streets stopped to stare at the sleek black car, their parents no different as they tried to see through the tinted windows with unfiltered curiosity.
You turned away from the window to take in Jungkook, whose shoulder you realised you’d made your pillow while you’d fallen asleep, only to have your eyes widen.
To your surprise, Jungkook had fallen asleep as well, with his head resting back against the headrest and lips just slightly parted. Small puffs of breath rhythmically escaped from between them when he exhaled, a telltale sign that he truly was asleep and not just resting his eyes or something.
The image had you frozen for a moment. He looked so… peaceful. Not that he always looked stressed out. Despite having a killer for a wife, Jungkook seemed to be pretty relaxed most of the time, amused even. But this was a different kind of peace, one that came with a complete lack of thoughts, making him look almost innocent - not the hard leader that you knew him to be.
Without his gaze on yours preventing it, you also noticed things that you’d never really noticed about him before. Like the length of his eyelashes, or the strong dip of his jawline. His lips had a red undertone and rounded into a slight pout, while his skin was flawless - not a very common characteristic amongst leaders, though not many were as young as Jungkook - aside from the end of a faded scar peeking from behind the collar of his black shirt. The side of his hair that was facing you was slightly ruffled, as if his head had been leaning against something before it had moved to lean against the seat behind him.
God this man was fine.
You forced your gaze forward, realising that you were staring. Were you really so deprived that you were finding the man that you were supposed to kill hot? Well, in your defence, you had eyes. Also in your defence, the leaders in the South were all old and slimy dudes that should have been put down years ago. Just looking at Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air after drowning.
But then you paused, realising the weight of the situation. Jungkook was asleep, the same Jungkook who you knew had a gun wedged into his waistband at this very moment. It was risky, he’d definitely notice it missing when he woke up considering his attention to detail, but if you were to grab the gun, and then immediately get out of the car, he’d have no choice but to let you hold onto it until the two of you were out of the public’s eye. It would be more than enough time to secretly kill him and then plant evidence incriminating Jimin.
Judging from the houses outside, you deemed that you both were close enough to the destination that you could hop out of the car immediately after it stopped. So you turned around, making sure to keep your movements as slow as possible, before you snaked an arm around his torso. You could feel the soft inside of his black blazer as your hand slipped beneath it, fingers just barely ghosting over his equally black dress shirt. It was unlucky that his gun was on the side of his waist facing away from you, but thankfully after checking to make sure he was still asleep, which he was, your fingers wrapped around the metal handle.
Or at least you thought he had been asleep, because as you pulled the gun from its confines, a hand suddenly engulfing yours made you flinch.
Your gaze snapped up to him, surprised when you found him wide awake and staring back at you. In all honesty, it wasn’t the fact that you were caught that had you frozen like a deer in headlights, Jungkook was well aware of your intentions, but rather the position that you were in. You’d used your left hand to grab his gun, which left your entire front to be pressed against his chest, while your right hand was resting on his other side, practically caging him against the seat of the car. Barely a breath’s distance separated your face with his, making the intensity of his stare all the more intimidating.
You tried to pull away from him, but his hand brushed higher to wrap around your wrist and keep you in place, dark brown eyes still boring into yours.
“Put it back.”
It shouldn’t have, but the deepness of his voice sent a tiny shiver down your spine, one that you did everything in your power to make sure Jungkook couldn’t notice. You’d rather be caught dead than having Jungkook think you were into him in any way whatsoever.
A small part of you, the same one that had persuaded you to drop a good amount of garlic into his cologne just yesterday, also reasoned that you’d never be caught dead taking orders from him as well. Logically speaking, there was no way you could save this attempt at taking his gun, he’d caught you and that was that. And yet, despite that, you didn’t move, hand still clutching the gun which was now hovering over his waistband.
You felt Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around the soft skin of your wrist, the lack of your movement not going unnoticed by him.
“Put it back, Y/N.”
It only made you want to do the opposite, just to piss him off a bit more, but you knew you were only delaying the inevitable. So, with the tiny devil at your shoulder retreating back to wherever it had come from and with a frustrated breath escaping your lips, you slowly pushed the gun back into his waistband. The action was slow, still dragging it out for as long as possible, until you felt the trigger guard push against the edge of the cloth. Yet, even when you let the handle drop from your grasp, Jungkook’s hand didn’t drop from your wrist. Instead, the edges of his lips twitched upwards.
“So we’ve moved on from poisons now?” He asked instead, voice low as his satisfied gaze stayed fixed on yours, “is my whiskey finally free from your terror?”
Your reply was quick, though your voice was just as low and breathy as his, “I wouldn’t start trusting it just yet.”
You really meant that, considering the new bottles of whiskey Jungkook had ordered had already been spiked not even an hour after they’d been placed in his cabinet. You knew that he knew, making the action pointless, but you were weak in front of that little devil at your shoulder.
The abrupt sound of the car’s door opening made you jerk back into your seat, ripping your empty hand from Jungkook’s, as you quickly fixed the ruffles in your dress. By the time the driver’s face appeared at the doorway, you were offering him an innocent smile, making sure to keep your eyes bright and lips stuck in a perpetually delighted turn. An amused breath escaped Jungkook as he turned to open his own door. You hadn’t even realised that the car had come to a stop.
You accepted the driver’s hand as he extended it towards you, the short heel of your white shoes tapping against the grey concrete while you stepped out of the car, grateful suddenly for the fresh air.
You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting when Jungkook had said that you were going to meet with families. Mostly you had pictured a stage, one that he would stand and speak on, and then a crowd of families standing before it paying close attention to his every word. But there was no such stage in sight, in fact, as you looked around the area you noticed that there was nothing out of the ordinary; just a simple neighbourhood with kids playing in the cracked street and parents standing in their worn front porches. Everyone was staring though, curious eyes staying fixed on Jungkook, and then on you.
It was a bit daunting if you were being entirely honest with yourself. Yes, you were the daughter of a mafia leader, but you’d never actually been made to make public appearances like this, much less speak at them. Daughters of leaders were more like decoration pieces, hidden away until they were married off.
Jungkook rounded the car until he was standing at your side, an arm wrapping snuggly around your waist. The action had been hesitant, as if he expected you to push him away or flinch at the touch, but you were beyond trying to fight whatever image of perfection Jungkook was trying to sell; there were bigger issues you needed to worry about now. And maybe a tiny part of you found comfort in it as you noticed all the eyes that were on you now. It was your first public appearance in the Jeon Territory after all, everyone would be curious about the Jeon Jungkook’s new wife. You needed to appear shy for the sake of your act, but you were still able to notice the mixed reactions, some confused, some sceptical, but most were just surprised.
Jungkook also seemed to be scanning the crowd before he turned towards you, whispering the words in your ear, “let’s get going.”
You didn’t have time to notice the fuss that action had caused in a group of girls before you both began following a guard into a house on your right. He guided you through the doorway, the door already wide open, as you made your way towards what seemed like a living room. The space had a homey vibe, pictures of the family scattered across the walls and lit candles placed on the tables, but it was clear that whoever lived here was struggling: the paint was peeling off the walls, the wooden floor was littered with scuffs and dents, and the furniture looked a day away from crumbling. It pained your heart to see the kitchen barren.
It was only when you and Jungkook managed to squeeze into the small living room that you finally noticed signs of life. There was an old woman sitting on the only sofa in the room, her expression dejected while her form was hunched forward in a way that you knew was a result of grief and not old age. At the sound of your footsteps her head raised, taking in the two of you with pained eyes.
You had to mask your surprise when you watched Jungkook lower himself onto a knee before her, “hello Mrs. Hwang.”
The woman, Mrs. Hwang, ignored the greeting, instead shaking her head while keeping her gaze on the hands resting in her lap, “I don’t understand. They keep telling me he’s gone, but I just don’t understand… How could he be gone? How could my beautiful son be gone? What happened to him?”
“Mrs. Hwang,” Jungkook said slowly, his brows pulling together in sympathy, “your son and a few other workers were killed in a construction accident at the West Docks. I’m sorry.”
The tears that had been swimming in her eyes finally began to stream down her cheeks, the news coming from the leader of the Jeons finally confirming what she had seemingly been denying for a while, but you could only try to fan the flames of the anger that ignited in your chest. There was no construction accident, there had been an attack orchestrated by Jimin, and normal people who had nothing to do with the territorial feud had suffered the consequences. This poor woman, for example, had lost her son. She deserved to know the real reason he was gone, deserved to belt out her anger at the actual people responsible, not be fed a cover-up story you knew was only being promoted in order to prevent public unrest.
You watched as Jungkook tried to reassure her, his words artfully compassionate and reassuring, wondering just how much of those words he actually meant. He probably didn’t mean many of them, if any at all. Perhaps this was the method in which he maintained his power? Leaders in the South usually asserted their power by ensuring the public feared them, scaring them so much that even the thought of betrayal had them shaking in fear. But Jungkook was a smart man. Perhaps he realised that being loved by the public was a better method of manipulation, one that produced more loyalty.
You’d been so deep in thought that when you felt the tap of Jungkook’s black dress shoe on your white ones you almost flinched. He was looking up at you with a pointed look, and it was then that you realised that the woman was staring at you as well, as if she were waiting for you to speak. Jungkook’s words, genuine or not, seemed to have stopped the tears that had been flowing down her cheeks while you’d been distracted because there was almost nothing left of them except the water staining her cheeks.
Sensing your confusion, Jungkook gave Mrs. Hwang a strained smile, “you must excuse her, she’s still getting used to the North. It can be overwhelming at times.”
Mrs. Hwang nodded in understanding before she turned to face you once again.
“That’s okay dear. I was just wondering how married life has been treating you. My husband passed away so long ago yet I still find myself missing the companionship even now.”
Oh…
That was not the kind of question you hesitate at if you want people to get a good impression of your and Jungkook’s relationship, and the look on Jungkook’s face at the moment only confirmed those thoughts.
“It’s been treating me well,” you answered finally, hesitating on what the right thing to say would be in this situation, “he’s been very good to me.”
It was the wrong thing to say, you realised that at the exact moment Jungkook grimaced and tears started to stream down Mrs. Hwang’s face once again. She nodded in your direction, “my husband treated me well too. How I miss him… And now my son is gone as well, who do I have left?”
Your voice died in your throat, mind unable to come up with anything that could possibly comfort the bawling woman who had lost so much. All you could do was stand dumbly and watch her crumble before you, wishing you could crawl into a hole and stay there forever hidden.
Jungkook, on the other hand, immediately placed a hand on her knee and began to reassure her once again, comforting words falling from his lips like a gentle stream. He reminded her of how her son and husband were in a better place now, of the friends she still has in the neighbourhood, and then of her granddaughter who needed her to be strong.
At the mention of her granddaughter, the door of the living room suddenly smacked open, revealing a little girl skipping into the room. She was wearing a sparkly pink shirt and washed out jeans which were fraying at the edges, while a worn doll hung from her fingers. Despite this, there was a bright smile on her face as she walked deeper into the room.
The sight of Jungkook slowed her down in her tracks, replacing the once innocent smile with a deep blush painting her cheeks. Her gaze shifted away from him, clearly shy from her sudden crush. But then she caught sight of her grandmother and her gaze became worried. She made her way to her side quickly before gently placing the doll on her grandmother’s lap, also placing a comforting hand on her arm.
“Don’t cry grandma,” she said with a frown, using her other hand to push a few strands of her grandmother’s hair behind her ear. The girl turned in Jungkook’s direction, though the blush was back and her eyes wouldn’t meet his, “I keep telling her not to be sad, but she keeps crying.”
It was then when she caught sight of someone else in the room, making her turn to face in your direction. Her reaction was immediate, eyes lighting up in excitement as she took in your dress, then your shoes, and then your makeup. The girl quickly jumped from the side of the sofa and skipped over to you, eyes wide in childlike amazement.
“Your dress!” She squealed, continuing to skip in a circle around you as she scanned you from top to bottom, “it’s so pretty! I’m going to ask Daddy to get me one just like it when he comes back!”
The last sentence felt like a hammer to your chest, and you could see Jungkook’s expression also sadden from behind her. How long would it take this little girl to realise that her father would not be coming back? That his life had been taken from him only because of the cruel way in which this world was structured?
Before you could think much of it, you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, knees touching the cold wood as you became eye to eye with the excited girl before you. It gave her the opportunity to marvel at your hair and the light sparkles on your eyelids, her small hand brushing against the frills of your dress softly as her excitement only heightened.
“You look just like a princess!” She continued. But then a thought seemed to strike her, suddenly making her shy, “do you think I could grow up to be a princess like you one day?”
You smiled at her, using every bit of your self control not to cry for this little girl and her innocence, “I think you’ll grow up to be an even prettier princess one day.”
Her smile brightened again, her confidence restored in that quick way only a child’s confidence could. You wanted that confidence to stick though, knowing just how quickly the cruelty of this world could destroy it .
“But do you want me to tell you a little secret?” You asked, to which she nodded hastily, also desperate in that way only children were.
“You don’t need pink dresses and sparkles to be a princess.” You gently took hold of her hand, giving her tiny fingers a comforting squeeze. This new information seemed to shock her, her eyes widening as a surprised gasp escaped her lips, “what matters is your heart. Your grandmother lost someone very dear to her, and she’ll need someone to help her get through her sadness.”
The girl straightened up immediately, chin rising as if to meet the challenge head on, “don’t worry, Daddy always makes me in charge of helping grandma. I’ll always take care of her.”
“That’s very responsible of you,” you praised.
“I am! I’m very-” She struggled with the words for a moment until she finally seemed to manage the beast, “responsible!”
An amused breath escaped your lips at her childish confidence, despite the sorrow tugging at your heartstrings.
“And when you realise what you’ve lost,” you continued, this time speaking to the girl she will become when the devastating news finally hits her, “your grandma will be there to get you through it as well. You won’t be alone, okay?”
She nodded innocently, the weight of your words flying over her head. But that was okay, she’d realise their meaning when the time came. You could only hope that they would provide at least some comfort when it really mattered.
Without another thought, you reached behind your head to unravel the silky pink ribbon in your hair, making sure to smooth it out before you held it out to her. She squealed in delight, grabbing the ribbon and softly running a hand over the silk material.
But then she suddenly looked up from it and threw her arms around your neck, the spontaneity of the action causing you to flinch.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She continued to squeal, “I think you’re the best princess in the world!”
With her chin laying on your shoulder, your gaze automatically met Jungkook’s as your hands hesitantly raised to rest on her back. He was still kneeling in front of Mrs. Hwang, but his hand had dropped from her knee to his own, realising that it was unneeded as a fond smile was overtaking her expression at the sight of her happy granddaughter. Jungkook’s expression was unreadable as he watched the girl jump excitedly in your embrace.
The two of you only stayed a few minutes longer, only because the girl had insisted that you tie the ribbon in her hair, before Jungkook stood and cleared his throat, a clear sign that you both should get going. You hadn’t even realised how heavy the atmosphere had been in the house until you were walking through the doorway, finally able to take in a full breath of fresh air. A guard was already standing before the front door, turning around to lead you both to the next house when he noticed your presence.
“Well… that was interesting,” Jungkook commented, his face turning in your direction to meet your gaze.
You were quiet as you followed behind him, making sure to pull your act back up in the process. You hadn’t realised that it had sort of dropped when you began speaking to the girl, the heat of the moment enough to make you forget.
You didn’t turn to meet his gaze, instead scanning the area and people that surrounded you both as you spoke, “I’m not very good at it.”
His head tilted in question.
In hindsight, you should have told him earlier, but perhaps you were a tiny bit embarrassed of it. Now, though, the cat was out of the bag, so there was no point in trying to hide it from him now.
“The wife thing? The hugging and laughing and kissing? I can do that,” you finally admitted, “but comforting? I’m not the best at it.”
That was an understatement, but you were sure Jungkook probably knew that by now. His gaze felt heavy as he watched you for a moment, studying your expression. Then he turned away, keeping his eyes fixed before him as he spoke words you were not expecting in the slightest.
“You did alright.”
-
-
-
It was early in the evening when you and Jungkook finally visited the last house, the sun just barely visible above the horizon when you had crossed over the street to follow behind the guard for the last time today. You had visited at least 20 houses, all of which weighed your heart down more and more until you had felt like you were dragging it against the concrete beneath you. Some had lost their son, their brother, their husband, all of whom were important not only because they were loved, but also because they had been the sole provider of the family. You committed each grief-filled face to memory, promising that pain like that would be a thing of the past.
It only made you more determined to accomplish your goal.
Now you stood behind Jungkook as he spoke to a woman in her kitchen, listening attentively to her describe the kind man that was her late husband with a bittersweet fondness. His expression was sympathetic as she spoke, nodding every so often with a gentle smile, while the woman thanked him again and again for being here and helping them.
If your observations proved anything, people certainly respected him around here. Whenever he would pass by in the street or when he spoke with the families, you watched many bow in his presence or express their gratitude for him. But no one ever invaded his space, and they definitely didn’t try to speak to him unless spoken to. It was all in all a respectful appreciation for the man they thought was a good leader. It was such an odd sight to you, being so used to people in the South trembling in fear in the presence of a leader, that it seemed almost foreign.
Your gaze travelled around the room as you continued to stand with your hands clasped in front of yourself, casually surveying the small area while simultaneously making sure to absently follow the conversation in case you were spoken to. After your visit to the first house, you’d decided that it was best if you stayed as quiet as possible seeing as you were a trainwreck when it came to comforting people. Sure, you’d sort of saved yourself when you had spoken to the little girl, but you had clearly said the wrong things when you’d spoken to Mrs. Hwang. It was an embarrassing shortcoming on your part, but you also couldn’t really blame yourself. It’s not like you had any examples from when you were growing up to draw on.
You were pulled from your thoughts, however, when you noticed a quick shadow flit in your peripheral vision, making you discreetly turn your head in that direction. For a moment, the doorway in which your gaze had settled on was empty aside from a guard who stood still in front of it, to the point that you thought you had imagined it. But then a fluffy black tail slithered from behind the wall, making you freeze in place. The tail brushed against the wooden floor before its owner turned around, the familiar face and collar moving into view.
Persilla’s feline eyes stayed fixed on you as she sat herself down for a moment, tilting her head as she watched you meet her gaze in surprise. She was going completely unnoticed by everyone else in the room, though that part didn’t surprise you. That cat was a master of camouflage after all. She was only seen when she wanted to be.
Which was why her presence had you wondering what she was doing here.
The answer to that question came when she suddenly stood, walking dangerously close to the guard as she crossed him and made her way into the hallway slowly. She easily blended into the shadows as she paused and turned back for a moment, making sure that you were still watching her, before she finally slipped into one of the rooms which had a door that was slightly ajar.
The message was clear to you: she wanted you to follow her.
You glanced at Jungkook and the woman, who were still deep in conversation thankfully, before you silently shuffled to the doorway where the guard was standing idly.
“Excuse me?” You spoke, voice soft as a feather. The man’s firm gaze shifted to you, “is there a bathroom anywhere that I could use?”
You could feel Jungkook sneak a glance in your direction, but the woman was still speaking with him, keeping him occupied. You’d made sure to keep your voice loud enough so that he could hear the bathroom excuse though, not wanting him to suspect anything.
The guard nodded and began to guide you down the same hall Persilla had walked through. Then, to your relief, he stopped in front of the door she had disappeared behind, unknowingly making your life much easier.
“Thank you,” you smiled at him before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You immediately began to survey the small space, taking in the toilet and small sink, but your brows furrowed when you failed to find your favourite black cat.
You kneeled before the sink to open the cabinet underneath it, frowning when it also was empty.
“Persilla?” You whispered, so silently you could barely hear yourself.
That was when you took notice of the window beside the sink. It was high up and blurred, but what really made you pause was the fact that it was open. Perhaps Persilla had jumped out of it before you’d entered the room? If she was expecting you to follow her, though, she clearly underestimated your size…
You flinched backwards when she suddenly dropped from said window, paws soundlessly making contact with the tiles before she circled your form. When she was satisfied she sat in front of you, showing you her neck. Once again, wedged between her fur and collar, was a small folded piece of paper.
“He better not make a messenger out of you,” you practically mouthed with a grumble before you reached out and slipped the note from her collar, unfolding it curiously. The handwriting was familiar as your eyes scanned through the words, though there was only one person the note could be from anyway.
I heard he has a knack for detail, so I’m assuming that’s why it’s not done yet. No problem. But we really should meet soon, there’s something I need to tell you. (I would’ve let myself in now, but your husband is waiting right outside the door so I had to make good use of Persilla)
~ H
P.S. I left you a little gift in the toilet tank. I think you might like it.
Your brows furrowed at the last part, gaze immediately shifting to the toilet in the corner of the room. It was a standard two piece, one with a removable back cover that made it easier to access the tank.
You pushed yourself off the tiled floor and made your way towards it before grabbing the heavy cover and hauling it upwards with a strained huff, eyes immediately scanning the inside. There were shiny metal pipes intersecting with each other and valves protruding in some places, but it was a black handle wedged between the mess that caught your eye. You grabbed it and pulled it out of the tank, easing the cover back into place with a smile.
Finally…
Delight was all you could feel as you rotated the shiny new handgun in your hand, taking in its familiar shape. You pressed against the release button first, catching the magazine expertly in your other hand as it popped out of the handle and checked its contents. It was full of ammunition, allowing you to push it back into the gun in satisfaction. Then your attention shifted to the silencer that had been screwed into the gun’s barrel. It wouldn’t entirely silence a shot, but it was still better than nothing and it could definitely come in handy. He knew you well, didn’t he…
You unscrewed the silencer from the gun and then shoved both into the holster at your thigh, making sure to smooth over your dress quickly. One look in the mirror had you satisfied, even eyes like Jungkook’s wouldn’t be able to tell there was a gun concealed under here. He would have no clue what was coming.
You crouched down to scratch Persilla’s chin, promising her some good salmon for being such a good girl, before she jumped out the window and scurried off. Unable to contain your own curiosity you walked over to the window and gave it a quick glance, but there was no one in sight.
Just as you had been told, Jungkook was standing right outside the door when you opened it after flushing the toilet and washing your hands to give the illusion that you’d really used the bathroom. You weren’t surprised when you watched his eyes dart behind you to carefully scan the bathroom, but you knew there was nothing to see. Everything that mattered was now strapped to your thigh discreetly hidden underneath your dress.
“Checking the bathroom after a lady uses it is a bit much, don’t you think?” You couldn’t help but comment, keeping your expression innocent as you noticed the guard standing patiently at the end of the hallway.
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction, but there was an amused turn to his lips. You maintained your expression as you felt his arm wrap around yours and pull you closer, whispering the words into your ear as he began to guide you out of the house, “and trying to kill your husband isn’t?”
“A woman can’t have hobbies?”
He steered you along the street, passing by crowds of people who stood at a distance around the neighbourhood, as you both made your way back to the car. Because of that you had to keep a smile on your face as you spoke, despite the nature of your words.
Jungkook raised an eyebrow to pair with his smile, aware of the crowd’s eyes on you both. There was no doubt that, through their eyes, you both looked like a nice couple speaking about nice things, far from the truth of course, “there are many husbands that wouldn’t be so understanding about your particular hobby. I think I deserve some credit.”
“Dead men don’t get credit.”
“Good thing I’m not dead yet, princess.”
You wished you could shoot him a nasty glare to wipe the cocky grin off his face, but you could only watch him innocently as he opened the door of the black car and waited for you to get in, an arm resting on the top of the car’s door nonchalantly. Taking the opportunity, you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving the impression that you were thanking him for the gesture, but instead said, “I wouldn’t count on that for long.”
Jungkook shut the door behind you in amusement after you sat in the car, ready to join you in the backseat until he felt his phone vibrate suddenly against his thigh. He stayed standing on your side of the car, resting a hand over its top as his other hand went to grab the phone out of his pocket and bring it to his ear.
“What have you got for me?” He asked, casually surveying the area as he waited for a response. His brows furrowed when he heard the person on the other end of the line hesitate before he spoke.
“Hello sir,” he finally said, to which Jungkook huffed, knowing whatever was about to be said wasn’t going to please him.
“Out with it, I don’t have all day.”
The man on the other end of the line sighed, “I was just contacted by the informant who has been working on what you ordered him to do…”
Jungkook frowned, remembering how he’d asked the informant to investigate your room and the man you’d been having hushed phone calls with before your marriage. He had wondered why it was taking the informant so long to get back to him, but Jungkook trusted the informant with his life, that’s why he had placed him in the Lee mansion in the first place. If things were being delayed, there was a reason.
One that was about to be explained to him right now.
“The informant just told me that he wasn’t able to identify the man.”
Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened at the news, brows furrowing even further, “what?”
“He said he searched through Mrs. Y/N’s room from top to bottom, but was unable to find anything out of the ordinary, nor anything related to the mystery man. Then he traced her prior phone calls, but none led to anywhere significant. The only thing the informant was able to figure out was that the man goes by the letter H.”
Jungkook mulled over the information for a moment, tapping his finger against the hood of the car while deep in thought. H… that was practically nothing to go by. Why were you talking to a man that seemed so untraceable? What did he have to hide? What did you have to hide?
Jungkook’s jaw ticked.
“What do you mean tracing the phone calls led to nowhere significant?”
“He explained that the locations were all scattered. Some were in the South, some were in the North, some were in the western and eastern regions, and a couple were even outside the country altogether,” he explained, then seemed to hesitate on his next words, “the informant mentioned that there were a couple locations that may seem slightly promising, but he admitted that he doubts they would prove to be very useful.”
“Tell him to send you the locations, and then send some men to check them out,” Jungkook said immediately.
His gaze dropped on you, who was already staring back at him from your seat.
“That man is not a ghost. We’ll find him, whether he likes it or not.”
-
-
-
Unlike earlier, you nor Jungkook slept as the car raced through the highway, nothing but the darkness of night visible from outside of the window aside from the occasional streetlamp. You’d already been on the road for about an hour or two, the entirety of the trip drenched in silence.
Jungkook clearly had something on his mind, you could tell from the way his eyes were clouded over in thought as they stayed glued to the window. You hadn’t been able to hear what he’d talked about on the phone, so you’d settled for deciphering his expressions. He’d seemed frustrated by something he’d been told, that was as much as you could make out.
The weight of the gun on your thigh felt heavy, the need to grab it and use it itching against your fingers. Technically speaking, you had an opportunity right at this very moment. You could shoot Jungkook dead, bang on the divider to get the driver to stop the car, and then shoot him dead too before he put two and two together. It would be simple, and you’d also be able to run to the nearest sign of life and dramatically explain how a man associated with Park Jimin had hijacked the car and killed Jungkook and the driver, leaving you alive to relay the message. They’d buy that in a second. It would be perfect.
The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would have to kill the driver. Jungkook was a mafia leader, and mafia leaders were cruel and merciless. He deserved what was coming. But this driver… he was just a guy doing his job. He might even have a family waiting for him at home, and after the day you’d had, the thought of another family losing someone dear to them made you squirm in your seat.
Realistically, you knew your goal couldn’t be complete without the deaths of a few innocents. But even that thought wasn’t enough to get your fingers to grab the gun at your thigh. A frustrated breath escaped your lips at the lack of your action, one that of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook.
“Someone seems frustrated,” he commented, the first time either of you have spoken after entering the car. You rolled your eyes, refusing to face him. But Jungkook continued to observe you intensely, giving you the impression that he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end so easily this time.
“You know, you seem so adamant on killing me,” he said slowly, “if I’m going to have my wife perpetually working on my death, I think I at least deserve to know why she’s so passionate for the cause.”
It didn’t go over your head that he was suddenly so interested in your intentions after that ominous phone call, and you had no problem calling him out on it, “I heard you had an interesting phone call earlier. Maybe you should focus on that instead.”
“I am. I’m trying to find a pesky man that goes by the letter H, you wouldn’t happen to know him would you?”
You froze, surprise freezing your limbs as you wondered where Jungkook had gotten that name from. Had you messed up somewhere? You’d burned the first note you received and flushed the second down the toilet, so there was no way he could have gotten hold of them. Besides that, you’d never uttered his name out loud since marrying Jungkook. No, there was no way he could have found out from you.
Jungkook smiled, as if reading your thoughts, “it seems you do.”
You shrugged, trying to collect yourself, “H knows everyone and no one.”
“But you know him better than others. Tell me, is he the reason you want me dead?”
You turned to meet his gaze, the taunt in your voice evident, “maybe you should find him and ask him yourself.”
“I will. He won’t be able to hide from me forever.”
You chuckled, answer instant, “doubtful.”
That made Jungkook tilt his head at you, an evident question.
“He’s only found when he wants to be found. Otherwise, he’ll have you running in circles like a clueless pet.”
For some reason your words seemed to irritate Jungkook as you noticed his gaze narrow.
“You seem pretty fond of him.”
You didn’t answer, your gaze instead drifting back to the window. Up until now you’d been driving through a thick forest, the concrete road surrounded by enormous trees that seemed to extend into the sky. But the window on Jungkook’s side showcased the trees starting to dwindle, empty patches emerging in the thicket occasionally until they finally gave way to a grand view of the ocean. If you squinted your eyes enough you could make out a large docks system in the distance, full of enormous ships and warehouses.
The view had caught your eye though, distracting you from the sorry excuse of a conversation you were having with Jungkook. It was the light that had initially caught your attention, more specifically the sheer intensity of it. The docks were lined with the same street lamps that were brightening the road you were currency driving on, yet it looked like someone dropped the sun into one of the warehouses.
At first you thought perhaps you were overthinking it, but then Jungkook followed your line of sight, peering critically through the window for a moment before he suddenly sat up straight. It was then that you saw it as well; at the edge of one of the warehouses, a roaring fire was beginning to destroy everything in its vicinity. It was only visible now because it had moved on from behind the warehouse, engulfing the structure itself at an alarming rate.
A sudden explosion shook the docks, so powerful that you could feel the vibrations of the shock despite your distance from the area. At that moment you felt the car screech to a stop, the momentum pushing both you and Jungkook painfully against your seatbelts for a split second, before Jungkook’s phone suddenly started to ring.
He picked it up on the first bell, not bothering to hide the call from you this time. You could hear loud sounds erupt from the phone the second the line was accepted, a man’s voice barely audible above the chaos.
“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked hastily, eyes glued to the wreck. He looked as if he wanted to jump out of the car and run to it, but the distance was far too large for him to get there at any reasonable time.
The man on the other line grunted for a moment, yelling orders to another before he shouted, “sir! There’s been a few explosions at the West Docks! Three of our warehouses have been destroyed, we’re trying to staunch the flames in the fourth one at the moment!”
“Forget it,” Jungkook shook his head immediately, “order thirty guards to the area to make sure there aren’t any actual threats around and to help out with the flames. And take anyone who’s injured to the hospital right away.”
“Of course, sir!” The man on the other line shouted instantly, but then he hesitated before he spoke again, “but sir… who could have done this?”
Jungkook was silent, and you knew you both were thinking of the same man’s name.
“Just do as I’ve said. I want the least amount of casualties possible.”
There was an incoherent sound on the other end of the line that resembled a “yes sir” before it went dead. Jungkook’s hand instantly went to brush through his hair, the gears in his head clearly working overtime as he seemed to be deep in thought. Before you could say anything though, his phone rang again and this time your eyes widened as you got a clear view of the caller ID. It was the man that you both were thinking of not even a full minute ago.
Park Jimin.
This time Jungkook did wait to pick up the call, instead staring at the screen for a few seconds longer than he should have. The silence in the car stretched, nothing but the sound of his ringtone reverberating throughout the small space, as you noticed his muscles tense under his black suit and the grip on his phone tighten to a point that you were sure it would snap the thing in half. This was probably the most tense you’d ever seen him look.
Jungkook finally grabbed the handle of the door and threw it open, stepping out of the car without so much as a sound. You watched him close the door behind him, only pausing for a moment to say something to the driver before you watched him disappear into the thick forest on your side of the road, leaving you and the driver alone in a dark and empty road.
Wow… he really did not want you to hear that conversation.
-
-
-
Jungkook cut through the trees of the forest, the sound of his ringtone practically mocking him as he continued to walk way deeper than he knew was necessary. He couldn’t help it. Park Jimin’s mere name angered him, and cutting through the trees of the forest was helping him direct that anger onto something unimportant. Because he wouldn’t be able to let it out on Jimin. He had to be calm, collected, and even amused in front of that bastard, nothing that could give away just how well Jimin managed to get under Jungkook’s skin.
But he eventually came to a stop, realising that he couldn’t go traipsing through the forest forever. The phone still vibrated against his hand as he relaxed his muscles, slipping into the Jeon Jungkook that was unbothered and coolheaded. The one that wouldn’t allow Jimin to have the upper hand because of his practically ancient anger.
Jungkook brought the phone to his ear and, finally, accepted the call.
The line was quiet for a second, as if Jimin expected Jungkook to say the first greeting, but he was just as quiet, forcing Jimin to be the conversation initiator.
“Hello Jungkook, I was just calling to confirm if you received my gift or not.”
His voice was just as melodically taunting as Jungkook remembered it from years ago, the words instantly causing him to clench his jaw. But he relaxed it once again, knowing that he needed to stay clear headed.
“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin.”
“How can I not flatter an old friend?” And Jungkook could practically hear the smile in his voice, knowing how much the mention of old friend would make his blood boil. It did, but Jungkook pushed down the feeling of strangling him through the phone.
“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?” He asked, knowing full well what the attack meant. But he was interested in how Jimin would explain it, whether he would put it plainly or jump around the topic like a coward.
The line was silent for a second, as if Jimin were choosing which angle he wanted to go by, before he finally spoke again.
“Why don’t we speak about it over dinner?“
Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, the words catching him off guard. How could Jimin be inviting him over to his territory so easily, after years of silent animosity? Sure, Taehyung and Yoongi have been at each other’s throats the past few years, Taehyung constantly having to fight off the Mins at his border, but the border between the Parks and Jeons have been silent, much like their leaders.
Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “you’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”
“Yes, I believe it’s time we settle a couple things, don’t you think?”
Settle a couple things was much too ambiguous of a phrase for Jungkook to decipher. Did he want to sort out the terms for a war? Or was Jimin beyond morality now and instead going straight to setting a trap? Jungkook wasn’t really sure what Jimin was capable of after the warehouse of bodies he’d witnessed a week ago.
His doubts kept him from speaking, allowing nothing but the serene sounds of the dark forest around him to fill the silence. Jimin seemed to sense his hesitance, letting the silence stretch for only a few moments before he chuckled into the line.
“Come on, Jungkook. What will it be?”
-
-
-
This was an opportunity.
Currently, your husband was alone, surrounded solely by trees, in an environment dark enough that you could very much get away with shooting him dead and not being blamed for it. You wouldn’t even need to shoot the driver to cover up your tracks, lessening your guilty conscience to a decent amount. It was perfect. The only issue now, was how you were going to get into the forest without arousing suspicion.
You tapped on the divider, waiting only a couple seconds before you pulled the panel down to reveal the professionally dressed driver.
“Excuse me? I need to use the bathroom,” you announced, trying to sound as urgent as possible while simultaneously keeping your voice naive.
The driver, on the other hand, looked as though you’d slammed him in the stomach with a sledgehammer.
“Ma’am…” He spoke hesitantly, “you’ll have to wait.”
“But I need to go nowww,” you whined, trying to put every bit of spoiled brat into your voice as you could. Then you turned your face towards the forest Jungkook had disappeared into, widening your eyes to give the impression that an idea had suddenly popped into your head, before turning back to face him, “I know! I’ll just go in the forest very quickly.”
Without a response, you pushed the door open and stepped out, causing the driver to scramble out of the car as well, pure panic washing over his expression at your determination.
“Please ma’am! I can’t let you go out there in the dead of night.”
“Why?” You asked, sporting a confused, and very much dumb, look, “it’s fine! I’ll just go towards my husband. He’ll protect me.”
The mention of Jungkook seemed to visibly calm the man, though there was still a lingering hesitance in his expression, “let me walk you to him.”
You waved him off, praying that he let you go without a fuss. You didn’t want things to get more complicated than they needed to be, or it wouldn’t end well for the man before you, “he’s right at the edge, don’t worry! I saw him and everything!”
You turned around and began walking towards the thicket of trees and, to your utmost relief, you didn’t hear the sounds of the driver following.
It took you about a minute of walking through the forest to realise that Jungkook was, in fact, not at its very edge, which left you trekking deeper into the thicket of trees, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness. You could hear the occasional sound of a bird, that strange humm that always seemed to be present in the wilderness, and the skittering of small animals against fallen branches, but there was no sound of your own expert footsteps to your satisfaction. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to hear what was coming.
Once you’d created a considerable distance between yourself and the driver, to the point that you were certain he would no longer be able to catch sight of you, your innocent smile dropped, replaced immediately by a look of focus as you reached for the gun at your thigh.
Your gaze wasted no time in surveying the darkened wilderness around you, flickering down only briefly to double check the magazine once again. Your surroundings were still empty of human life, no signs of Jungkook anywhere near you for the time being. Your brows couldn’t help but furrow, wondering why he’d decided to go hiking to take one phone call, even if it was from Jimin.
You grabbed the silencer from your holster and began to screw it onto the barrel, strolling until you caught the faint sight of a dark silhouette in the distance. The sight had you crouching instantly, fingers still twisting the silencer into the barrel as you began inching closer to the figure, using the thick trunks of the trees to hide yourself from view. The closer you got, the more the silhouette began to shape into Jungkook, his black hair falling into his eyes as his gaze was directed downwards while one hand held his phone up to his ear.
You finally hid yourself behind a tree that was directly to his right, letting go of the now fully attached silencer to instead rest your finger against the trigger guard. You were close enough that you could hear his end of the conversation now, one that seemed to have just begun.
“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin,” he said, voice cool and collected, but you could see the fist his other hand had become.
Something about Jimin got under Jungkook’s skin, that was clear enough to you by now. But you wondered, why? Jungkook seemed like a man that was unmoved by a challenge, enjoyed them even, according to your observations these past four days and also according to his reaction to your presence. And yet, small attacks and calls from Jimin were enough to move him? No… there was something deeper to this reaction, something personal between Jimin and Jungkook that you didn’t know about. Some sort of history perhaps?
“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?”
You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts. It didn’t matter anymore. You were about to shoot Jungkook dead, making the answers to these questions useless for you. This little mission of yours was over.
You watched a squirrel scurry down the trunk of a tree to your left, the small animal cloaked in the shadows of the darkness. Eager to get this over with, you placed your hand on the top of the gun, slowly pulling the slide backwards. At the exact moment you heard a click sound from your gun, the squirrel crashed into a pile of leaves, muffling the racking of your slide. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook’s expression just in case as both your hands went to hold the handle. His brows were furrowed, but his eyes were still turned downwards, giving the impression that perhaps Jimin had said something he wasn’t expecting.
Distantly you wondered what it could have been, but physically you brought your gun up from the side of the trunk, pushing the thought out of your mind.
You felt all thoughts flow out of your head like they always did whenever you were aiming, this time your barrel pointing straight in the direction of Jungkook’s temple. When you saw a lack of any reaction from him, you knew it was over.
Your finger finally pressed against the trigger.
Goodbye, Jungkook.
“You’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”
You froze, your finger stalling as it pushed the trigger by about a third of its pathway, the words making your eyes widen in surprise. It had to be a misunderstanding, your luck couldn’t be so good - or would it be bad in this case? - that Park Jimin was inviting Jeon Jungkook over to his territory?
You strained your ears, desperately trying to hear Jimin’s answer to the question. You even dangerously pushed your head forward a bit, risking being detected by Jungkook, but he was much too busy staring at the ground with slightly widened eyes to notice your form, clearly just as surprised as you.
You pulled back behind the trunk when you managed to make out a yes from Jimin’s end of the line, causing you to suck in a breath.
This changed things.
If Jungkook were to be killed in the Park Territory it wouldn’t just cause tensions between the northern territories, it would instantly cause all out war. Killing a leader while he was visiting another territory was a huge no no, no matter what region of the country you were from. It signified at least some form of ethics in a world that was so unethical, and surprisingly you’d never met a territory that didn’t honour that rule. To the point that when leaders broke that rule, it was instant chaos. All it would take was for Jungkook to die on Park soil for both the Jeons and Kims to retaliate with full force, no room for negotiations or apologies.
And the best part was that, if Jungkook were to go, he would have to take you. Leaders always took their wives whenever they travelled or visited other territories to assert their power. If Jungkook ended up going to the Park Territory without you, he would give off the impression that he was scared he wouldn't be able to protect you should something go wrong, making him look weak. Mr. Perfect Image would never have that, especially in the face of the one person clearly trying to take over his territory.
Now it all depended on his answer.
Your handgun continued to stay pinned on Jungkook’s head, finger still pressing against the trigger as you watched him stare into the ground before him. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, going over the advantages and disadvantages of his options while his lips were pressed into a firm line. Whether he survived or not tonight was all dependent on the answer he gave now.
You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, the natural sounds of the forest blurring into the background as you focused on the man before you.
Jungkook’s head suddenly lifted, staring straight ahead of him as the chaos of his thoughts seemed to subside. You automatically adjusted your aim, preparing yourself before he finally spoke.
“Fine.”
Your finger instantly lifted off the trigger to let it bounce back into place, pairing with the sound of Jungkook ending the phone call. Your arm dropped to your side as the realisation washed over you.
The decision had been made, you were going to visit the Parks.
But one thing had become more clear to you at this very moment. You had just given up a good opportunity to end this man, one that may not show itself again, which meant you could not let it be in vain. No matter what happened there, no matter how you had to do it, Jungkook was dying in the Park Territory. There was no room for failure now, only the end of what needed to be done.
You’d do anything to make sure of it.
A/N: Things are about to get very physical 😏 Also comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
It's a good beginning, makes me want to read more of it 😉
Emerald Gem|| Chapter 1
Chapter one: Emerald Farm
Paring: OT7! x Fem!Reader
Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.
Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn
unedited*
At dawn, the roosters began to crow. They were your personal alarm clock. By the afternoon, you would have the Vegetables plowed and all the pigs fed. Emerald garden, full of color, would be watered. After all the chores were done, you could spend time on your hobbies. Painting, writing, cooking.
You truly kept yourself busy. But it became boring at times, lonely.
Emerald manor, your beloved home, was built for a family. With a large living room, a generous dining room, and too many bedrooms, it could be overwhelming for you. You liked to think about how you could fill this space, getting married, having a family. But you quickly realized that those things don’t come easy. Tired of the loneliness, you thought about adopting a pet. Maybe a dog to help with the farm?
And one day while you're cleaning the chicken coop you spot a fox about to pounce on one of the chickens.
“Hey!” you exclaim. “Get out of here!”
The fox stopped in its tracks and peered over at you, giving an intimidating glare. Then you realized, that wasn’t a fox.
It’s a person.
“Wait!” you attempted to come closer, but with each step forward, the fox went two steps backward. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”
The fox seemed dubious, cautiously stepping towards you. “F-food, please.” His voice was raspy, sore.
You immediately ran to get some food, coming back to the coop with some leftovers. Maybe this will suffice, you thought. You sat him down on the grass patch next to the chicken's den. You watched him devour the meal, as if he hadn’t eaten anything in weeks. Based on his appearance, he probably hadn’t. His fur coat was dirty and torn. You could see his ribs and his belly rumbled with each bite. “Sorry, miss”, he whispered.
You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I’m Y/n. May I ask your name?”
You could tell he was nervous. Something about your presence made him anxious and fearful. Is he like this with everyone?
“H-Hoseok”, the fox uttered. “But I can’t stay long. My pack is waiting for me.” With a slight struggle, he stumbles back on his two feet. You grab him before he takes off.
“Please wait”, you politely asked. “Let me give you some food to take back to them. Don’t leave yet.”
He paused for a moment, seeming to be pondering over his next steps. “Okay”, he spoke softly. “But don’t be long. They may worry.”
With that, you hurry back into your home, running to the fridge to see what you can scrap up. Hopefully I have enough for all of them, you thought. Maybe you can give them a couple of chickens from the coop.
While carrying plastic wrap covered plates to your garden, you hear a scream coming from the coop. That must be Hoseok. Without haste, you ran to the chicken coops, the food left for the birds. Hovering over Hoseok was what looked like a wolf– well half wolf.
“Back away from him!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, trying to scare off the scary hybrid. He ignored you completely. Suddenly, you gain the courage to step up to it, pushing it off of the fox.
“Are you okay?” You helped him back on his feet, feeling the trembles in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”
“N-no, he would never hurt me”, He stuttered. “You don’t understand.” You looked at him confusingly, then looked at the wolf. He was fuming with anger.
“Y/n, this is my packmate, Joon.”
***
You’re not sure how feeding one hybrid led to having seven hybrids on your couch, but you have no one to blame but yourself.
“You want us to do what?!”
“Live here?” It was really just a random thought that popped in your head. You didn’t give it any thought. And seeing them dirty and hungry on your couch just made you blurt it out. Hoseok seemed thrilled but his Pack alpha, Joon, wasn't too excited.
“You must be out of your mind”, he laughed. “What do you think we are, pets?”
“No, not at all!” You shook your head. Something in the back of your mind tells you that they’ve been burned before, that they’ve been mistreated. You feel sort of sympathetic. Could they not trust anyone? “You guys don’t even have to stay here long. I just want to treat your wounds and offer some food.”
He still seemed doubtful. “Yeah? And what’s in it for you?”
That's the question he's been dying to ask. What about you? You thought about it for a moment. Wouldn’t any human being want to help out someone in need? The answer to that is no. However, maybe they need some good in their lives.
And you could use the company.
“Well, I kind of live here by myself”, You explain. “My parents moved to the city so I don’t see them often, and I don’t have any other family or friends. If I’m being honest, I really just need someone to converse with. And maybe a little help around the house.”
One of the packmates raised his hand, as if asking permission to speak. “We left the other home we were in. They may still be looking for us. We don’t want to put you in any danger.”
“We can figure all that out later”, you promise him. “Right now, you guys just need to wash up and get a proper rest.”
Hoseok turned to Joon, waiting for his response. “Please, Joon. We’ll be good, I promise.”
He glared at you for a second, trying to sense if this was another trap. Maybe she’s genuine, he thought. “Okay, but we won’t stay for long.” You could hear sighs of relief. Even you let out a puff of air, not realizing you were holding your breath.
“Thank you. Thank you so much for trusting me. I know that’s not easy.” You gave them a tour of Emerald farm, showing them their sleeping quarters and where they can wash up. When evening came around, you prepared a feast. Your hybrid guests gobbled down all they could– except Joon. He didn’t eat, probably from fear of being poisoned. Hopefully, one day he’ll trust me, you thought. But for now, all you can do is show them tender care and affection until they believe it.
When it becomes time for everyone to sleep in their rooms, you're left alone in the living room with our thoughts. Maybe some television will clear your mind. You never really use it. Living on a farm left you with plenty of other things to do, but why not? Turning on the television, you flip through the channels until one catches your attention.
Breaking news! Seven dangerous hybrids escaping from a research facility
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