#Jen Foster | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

softsan · 6 months ago

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˚ 🥀⊹ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄. (𝐩𝐭.𝟏)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Taeyong, Queenpin!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Childhood friends, Betrayal, Enemies to lovers, Eventual Smut. ✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: You were the only surviving heir of the old-time Mafia kingpin that had ruled the four territories. You were long thought to be dead, living the normal life you had always wanted...Until you run into a Taeyong, a formidable ghost from your past. You are then thrown back into the Mafia underbelly, reuniting with enemies you had hoped had forgotten you. Will you run away? Will you stand beside Taeyong, kingpin of the North, and be his queen? Or will you take your rightful revenge.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Kidnapping, Strangulation, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Past.

You felt all the air leave your lungs, your chest constricting as you tried to gasp for just one more breath. You heard the patter of your blood as it hit the hardwood floors.

“Y/N,” His desperate eyes plead.

“What did you do to her?!” Your brother demanded, yanking against the chains that were secured around his wrists.

“Good catch Taeyong!” One of your captors clapped his hand on Taeyong’s back.

You tried to lift your shoulders, but they refused to support the weight of your head. You were but a lifeless heap, carelessly discarded and left to slowly bleed out on the ground. The man’s sickening laughter echoed throughout the room, filling what was left of your heart with dread.

“Do it,” His voice urged, “Kill her now.”

Present.

“Today will be different,” You stared at yourself in the mirror, “Today I will smile, and I’ll mean it.” Your eyes circled down to your neck, your confidence waning.

“Come on!” Your roommate urged, “You can say it better than that.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, “You make me say the same thing at the start of every semester.”

Your roommate clicked her tongue, looking up from her phone. “And I believe this semester is going to be fucking fantastic.” She pointed at your white dress that cut just above the knees. “Look, we’re both looking cuter than ever. We have a new apartment,” She pointed to the living room’s ceiling to exaggerate her point. “This is our second year at college, and you, my friend, are going to put yourself out there.”

You shook your head in dread. “I thought we agreed that in this household, you can be the party fiend, and I’ll be the one that spends her nights binging TV shows on Netflix.”

Your roommate Jen threw you a dirty look.

“Hey! Who else is going to keep the universe in balance.”

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “The world is not going to stop spinning on its axis if you go out once in a while.”

“I highly doubt that.” You mutter to yourself, earning a playful hit from your dear roommate.

You and your roommate Jennifer had been cohabitating with one another since you were both seventeen. Back then, it had been a struggle to find someone willing to share a space with a teenager. That coupled with the awful reputation your foster father and sister had garner for themselves, you weren’t exactly considered an ideal house mate. However, to your pleasant surprise Jen was equally in need of someone to cover half of her rent.

You had somewhat known about Jen prior to living with her. She had been quite popular at your school, the social butterfly. Admittedly, you were a little suprised to hear she like you, had moved out on her own, yet you never pried.

Despite, her cheerful demeanor, you sensed a sadness akin to your own. You were both content pretending the other didn’t have secrets they’d buried deep inside their pasts.

The day had been too long, and the sight of a setting sun was a welcome one. A picturesque scene of pink and oranges painted the skies which backdropped Taeyong’s beloved city.

“Let’s get a drink to cool down,” Johnny piped, securing his gun back in his trousers.

Mark looked over disapprovingly, “You know you should really invest in a holster.”

“Not a chance!” Johnny grinned, “Taeil will flip if I make another extravagant purchase this month.”

Taeyong slightly shook his head, half-heartedly smiling. Taeil, his consigliere had only gotten on Johnny’s case after he bought two restaurants and three record stores on a whim. Johnny simply was dead set on never purchasing himself a holster.

Mark discerning Johnny’s lame excuse, decided to play along, “If you’re tight on money, why don’t we drink at the crappy-looking place.” He pointed to a shabby, bar with rusted molding at the end of the street.

Taeyong grimaced, he didn’t like spending too much time in disputed territory. The street they were standing on fell in a grey area, both claimed by him, the King of the North, and the terrible Black Crow of the West.

“We should head back closer to base,” Renjun cut in, noticing Taeyong’s hesitancy.

Taeyong had his own bars and hotels where he could drink and dine with complete ease. He saw no need to do so here.

“Let’s do it,” Johnny exclaimed, pulling a protesting Renjun into a friendly headlock.

“It’ll be fine,” Mark reassured, nudging Taeyong’s shoulder. “Nobody’s that stupid to take on all four of us.”

“I’m here! I’m here!” You breathlessly apologized to your manager, reaching for a bar apron.

“It’s fine,” He assured, handing you a docket, “First day back?”

You nodded, trying to catch your breath “It’s the first day, and I feel like I’m already behind on all of my classes.”

“Well, tonight should be pretty standard for a weekday.” He commented, his eyes scanning the empty tables, “I’ll be up upstairs talking to a supplier but, give me a wave if you need me.”

“Will do.” It wasn’t uncommon for you to be working the bar alone.

The 'Old Sand Bucket' where you worked was certainly past its prime. Its interior was outdated, half of the bar stools wobbled, and even the bar counter was unleveled. It just wasn’t a place that attracted a surplus of people.

You pulled your first load of wine glasses from the dishwasher, lifting them into the bar to be polished.

The door to the bar chimed, “Welcome to the Old Sand Bucket.” You said, without looking upward. “What can I get you?”

Taeyong gave the bar a lengthy overview. It didn’t appear to be suspicious, just the opposite. The dated bar was completely unoccupied beside the humming bartender who was mindlessly polishing wine glasses.

He examined you like the rest, evaluating the level of threat you were. Your head stayed down, occupied with your task. You barely spared a glance at his boys, who began ordering drinks.

You wore a simple black shirt underneath a bar apron with the ‘Old Sand Bucket’ labeled on its front. Your hair was tied in a low ponytail, revealing the curvature of your neck. At its base was a silky black ribbon knotted in a neat bow. Other than being pretty, you didn’t appear to stand out.

Taeyong hummed, satisfied the bar his boys wanted to drink at was nothing more than a dinky, uninspired establishment.

You heard another person pull out a wonky barstool, which made four people in your bar. Not bad, as you usually didn’t have customers come in until half past nine.

You placed down a bourbon and coke to your left—a man’s voice offering you a quick thanks.

“What can I get you?” You asked, finally looking up at the last man.

“Whatever’s good.”

Your eyes widened, blinking repeatedly, willing the ghost of your past to disappear back to your nightmares.

This can’t be real. This can’t be him. Please. No.

But he didn’t. He sat in front of you. His bored expression faded as he caught you staring. You immediately dropped your face, your face burning.

Taeyong furrowed his brows, confused. The way you looked at him just then… It was as if you knew him. He wasn’t mistaken. He couldn’t be. The way you were mumbling your answers, your arms shaking as you reached to pour a shot of vodka.

You did the best you could to keep a low profile, keeping your face down, and distracting yourself with work around the bar. You wanted nothing more than to abandon your shift— your heart furiously pounding every time you heard one of their four voices address you. However, at around eleven there was an unusual influx of people (what you believed to be a bachelor’s night out), therefore you needed to power through your discomfort.

You wavered for your manager to join you downstairs, while you stepped out of the bar and started clearing tables.

Taeyong kept you in the corner of his eye, unable to shake the curiosity that brewed in his stomach.

“Give us a smile, love,” Slurred one of the drunken bachelors, who had stripped off his shoes and was now wearing one on his head.

You complied, in order not to make a scene. You reached over his table to pick up one of the empty pints. You felt the irksome feeling of fingers brushing against your neck. You jumped back, dropping your tray. Your hands immediately shot to your neck, clasping where your black ribbon ought to be.

The shattering of glass made Taeyong stand, interrupting Renjun mid-sentence. Your eyes were aflame with anger, your mouth parting in horror. You were trying desperately to conceal the base of your neck.

Without a second thought, Taeyong approached, pulling the drunken patron up by his wrinkled collar. The man began sloppily flailing, trying to make his pathetic getaway.

Taeyong snatched the black ribbon out of his hand, before not so gently throwing him to the ground.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Taeyong stepped forward, extending his arm in your direction.

You instinctively stepped back, your eyes narrowing on the black ribbon between his fingers. There was no way for you to reach for your ribbon without exposing your neck.

“You keep it.” You said as firmly as you could, turning your back to him.

He watched as you retreated to one of the back rooms, his interest in you only spiking.

You hid yourself in one of the alcohol storerooms, searching for something to cover up your neck. You resorted to some paper towels stained with raspberry syrup. It wasn’t one of your greatest ideas, but it seemed to work when your manager came bursting in.

“Where’d you go?” Your manager pressed, “You left broken glass for me to clean up by table fourteen.”

"It accidently lock myself in the storage rooms again.” You lied.

Your manager sighed, ushering you out.

You did a quick scan of the bar, noticing the four men had since left.

“What happened to you?” Your manager pointed to the paper towels and raspberry syrup.

“Ah,” You pressed the wet paper harder against your neck, “A customer spilled a drink all over me.”

Your manager shook his head, “Go home and clean up,” He signaled you to grab your things, “I’ll close up,”

Scattered, you thanked him and reached for your rucksack.

“Wait,” Your manager handed you an envelope, “Some guy left you a tip.”

Who gives a tip in an envelope? You eyed it cautiously.

You waited until you had turned a corner before you used your fingernail to pry apart the sealed envelope.

Inside was a one-hundred-dollar bill, your black ribbon, and a napkin that read 'Thanks for your service’.

Taeyong kept his distance, hiding in the shadows. He watched you leave the bar, with your hand holding some paper towels to your neck. You use the other hand to tear open the envelope he’d left for you.

To his surprise, you barely acknowledged the bill—you were more interested in the black ribbon and the napkin. You stared at the napkin for a couple of minutes, your teeth grinding. You then scrunched it into a ball, throwing it onto the sidewalk with the envelope containing the hundred. You, however, kept the black ribbon.

Taeyong observed you as you slowly pulled the paper towels away, revealing a dark scar that wrapped around your neck... It was as if someone had strangled you with barbed wire.

A flood of emotions went through him, sympathy, guilt, and finally, coldness. He couldn’t help but remember a young girl who had experienced a similar fate.

You had died many years ago. Or at least he thought so…

NETWORKS: -

MONI’S NOTE: Woah! I cannot express how excited I am to dive back into this world. For those who don't know, this is an old fic of mine that I wrote like 5 years?! ago. I've decided to rework it and improve the story (also finally give it an ending). I would much appreciate your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are extremely valued.

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