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cannedbananabread · 23 days ago

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Nobody Does it Better- Bruno Bucciarati x Reader

Word Count: 12.1k - I need psychiatric help

CW: smut (of course), kinda rough sex, some violence, mafia treachery, religious symbolism (presented in the context of art)

Can also be read on ao3 (probably easier given how long this is)

A/N: From an ao3 request for capo Bruno paired with a fellow capo reader. Keep in mind that I have never been to Italy so any information about the setting comes from google and my brain lol. Also, while I'm pretty sure the design on Bruno's chest is supposed to be a lacy undershirt in the manga, it definitely looks like a tattoo in the anime and I think it's a bit more scandalous if it's a tattoo, so it's a tattoo here. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, I'm hoping to get through more requests sooooon!! Hopefully not quite so long as this one oops!

Rising to the rank of capo in Passione was no small feat, but you had done so in just a handful of years. Your home life had been one of dissonance and so it wasn’t any wonder that you had gone the unfortunate way of many of your peers, scrounging for survival in the streets. Starving and alone, you were entirely out of options that night several years ago when a plucky little boy around your age had found you, sick and shivering in a filthy, damp alleyway.

Delirious from fever, you were met with the impression that an angel had fallen to earth and rescued you from ruin, but reality had not been quite as kind. The boy offered you solace in the dusky hotel where he resided and saw to it that you were fed and taken care of. In the morning, with your lucidity having returned to you, it was quite apparent that the boy who had come to your rescue was a member of Passione and the very thought left you reproachful of even his most genuine assistance.

The extent of the power Passione had over Italy could not be overestimated. You knew that the shadow of that treacherous organization extended far beyond the edges of the little city you called home. You had known better than to involve yourself with something so unsavory; however hard up you were, you were not going to trade your life away just to end up the beast of burden to a faceless, unknowable entity who viewed you more as a number than a human.

The boy who had acted as your savior approached you with a stoic expression that made him appear far wiser than his meager years would’ve suggested but you only glared back at him with contempt burning in your eyes. You knew a debt to Passione was not one you could easily be free of, so before you even properly met the boy, you loathed him with all the fire in your soul. He tentatively handed you a glass of water which you accepted, only to promptly splash in his face. “Puttana, what did you do that for?”

“I know what you are,” you spat, rage bubbling in your chest until you reached your fatal boiling point, “goddamn mafioso, the world would be a better place without the likes of you in it. Whatever you brought me here for, I won’t do it!”

“You would be dead in the gutter if I hadn’t helped you stronza!”

“Bruno…” a deep, almost metallic-sounding voice bellowed, reverberating off the walls of the hotel room, “what did I tell you about bringing another ruffian into my home?”

“Polpo, sir, I—”

“Oh, a girl, Bruno, you dog you.”

“It’s not like that!” The boy shouted in vehement protest before shrinking back in fear of impending punishment for having spoken out of turn, “and besides, she was just leaving.”

You nodded silently to affirm his claim and made a quick, darting movement to escape. Polpo’s reputation preceded him; he was a cruel and cold capo who seized what he wanted through whatever means necessary and wherever he went, he was undoubtedly treated like a king but in practice, he was more akin to a tyrant. In the far recesses of your heart, you felt a pang of guilt for the boy; a mafioso he may be, but he had still come to your rescue without the hope of selfish gain. You bowed humbly to show your gratitude for the sanctuary you had been provided the night before, hoping the gesture would be enough to placate some of the man’s ire towards his subordinate, then you made another hasty attempt to make your exit, but your arm was caught in the capo’s massive, swollen hand. “And where is it that you are so eager to run off to, it’s clear that such a sickly thing has no home waiting for her, why not join me? It’s a generous offer, you would have food, shelter, and above all else, my protection, all I ask is that you pass one simple test.”

His booming voice struck something deeply within you, as though he had tapped into the very wiring of your brain and pulled something loose. Before him, you felt entirely powerless and it required all of your strength just to remain on your feet as he forced you to look into the black depths of his soulless eyes. “A-and if I were to refuse?” You stuttered, unable to hide the irresolution that quaked your entire frame.

“Hmm? Well, in that case, I suppose you would be of no use to me,” he said, forcing aloofness as he glanced over his fingernails. “Quite a shame too, I can’t say things tend to bode well for those who cross me.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach as he uttered such a thinly veiled threat, you were foolish to even tenuously believe that he would let you walk free without the demand of some kind of restitution, in the face of him, you were left utterly bereft of words, so shaken that you couldn’t see beyond the immediate terror that drowned out any of your better senses.

“Think it over, someone like you could be quite an asset to this organization.”

“S-someone like me?” You asked and a dim hope arose that he might look favorably upon you and that you might find your freedom yet.

“Yes, someone that no one would ever come looking for, someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain. Someone expendable.”

There it was, your worst fears laid out before you as if by the wave of a hand, you had been stripped of all your resolve, forced to relinquish the last vestiges of personhood you had clung to so fiercely. “What do I have to do?”

A wicked sneer crawled across the corpulent man’s face and though you could not see what happened next, the ominous aura caused every inch of your skin to prickle with goosebumps and the acute sensation that followed was enough to make your body go limp. After that, the next thing you were able to recall was waking up in a warm bed feeling rather worse for wear, but the pin on your bedside table let you know that your initiation into Passione had been a success.

And so swore fealty to Passione, from then on your future was set in stone, you would not know any other life that wasn’t one of carnage and bloodshed. After a while, it became normal, more than that, you began to revel in it. What had once been stomach-churning acts of violence soon left you aglow with pride, you ruthlessly pursued anything you wanted, no sacrifice was too great, “all for the good of the organization,” you said as you rose effortlessly through the ranks, paying little heed to those you had stepped on to reach for higher and heights. Was it any wonder that you’d become a capo in only a few short years? Certainly not, and you were as respected by your subordinates as you were feared and in truth, any of you considered even your darkest of deeds to be worth the price now that you lived a life of luxury.

As the years passed, any thoughts of the boy that had come to your rescue had receded to only a dim recollection your mind could only laboriously conjure up, though your connection to him was not one you could so easily forget and every time you heard his name in passing, you were catapulted back in time, struck by a vision of tan skin, dark hair, and deep blue sunken eyes that looked upon you with violent contempt.

Bruno Bucciarati; you had not seen him in years and perhaps that was for the best, he had not been shy about his acrimonious feelings towards you and even though there was a part of you, deep in the reservoir of your cold, cold heart that still looked favorably upon him, you did not think the possibility of amends would be worth the risk of altercation.

But then, on a perfectly common day at the end of March, came the instructions for your latest assignment, direct from the hands of Percilo himself. You had been requested to undertake a special mission with the newly appointed capo with one clear goal in mind: eliminate the leader of the hitman team, Risotto Nero. So you were left with no other choice but to follow the orders that had been handed down to you, you could never violate a direct order from the Boss and live to tell about it. Armed with the knowledge that Bruno would be less than enthused by your presence, you arranged your travel plans and made a reservation under a false name at that little restaurant Bruno was so terribly fond of and planned to enter unannounced before he had a chance to deny you entry.

Seated at one of the quaint tables, you observed as a group of well-dressed civilians was led to their reserved table nearby which provided you with the perfect opportunity to ask the maitre-d’ if he could send for Bucciarati. While he complied graciously and assured you that he was in, instead of Bucciarati, a trio of vibrantly dressed, obstreperous youths emerged from the back of the restaurant and crowded your table.

“Are you the one who’s been asking for—” the blond dressed in a green suit asked before being interrupted by one of his friends.

“Who are you and why do you want to see Bucciarati?”

“Narancia, cool it, that’s not the way you talk to a guest. You gotta ask nicely and if they don’t comply, then, well, we have other means.” The third man said as he glanced at the purple handle of a pistol that stuck out of his waistband.

“Are you threatening me?” You asked, feigning an affectation of coyness as you looked up innocently from your menu.

“A threat? No, no, I like to think of this as more of a suggestion if anything.”

“And if I choose not to take your suggestion?”

“Well, you don’t have to, but I can’t say I’d be so eager to throw my life away,” he said with a shrug, letting his fingers over just over the handle, baiting you to continue your defiance.

“Aw, you think you could kill me? That’s adorable. Where did Bruno pick you up?” You simpered, folding your hands together in an offhand gesture to emphasize the meaninglessness of his threats.

“Listen, lady, just tell us what you want with Bucciarati, we’re not gonna fight you if we don’t have to,” he said at last, planting his hands firmly on the table, having given up any pretense towards a gunfight in the middle of the restaurant.

“I will only talk to Bruno, not whatever help he’s pulled together.”

“And what makes you think we’ll let you?”

“Oh, you will,” you said, standing up with a crazed look in your eye, ready to fight if necessary, but you reined in your temper just enough to keep the upper hand, “after all, he and I are old friends.”

“Doubt it,” the blond cut in, matching his tone to yours, “Bucciarati told us about the kinds of friends he had before and none of them are welcome here.”

“Well, that’s quite a shame then, because—” you began, but were cut off by a familiar voice slicing through the ensuing quarrel.

“What is going on out here? Mista, Narancia, Fugo, when I sent you to see who was asking for me, I explicitly told you to do so without disturbing the other guests!” Bucciarati shouted, a pair of other men flanking him as they entered the scene, the man to his left had silver hair and wore a long, dark coat, and to his right was a young blond with his hair tied back into a braid, dressed in a lurid pink suit.

“My, my, Bruno Bucciarati, as I live and breathe,” you said, a sly, coquettish titter to your voice as you collected yourself, he was certainly just as handsome as you remembered him, “can’t say I thought I’d ever see the day where they’d let you make capo, the Boss must really be desperate after what happened to ole Polpo.”

“You… I thought you knew better than to ever show your face around me again,” he sneered, several vulgar interjections from his colorful subordinates followed his declaration.

“Now, now, is that any way to treat a lady?” You asked, abandoning the table entirely and sauntering over to where he stood with the letter in hand. “And besides, I’m here because of my orders alone and these have been handed down from the top, if you care to have a look.”

He snatched the paper from your hand and read it over carefully. It was legit. Only a select few had ever been chosen directly by the Boss himself, but all were rewarded handsomely in both monetary compensation and under the banner of greater trust. As much Bruno did not want to tangle himself with any of the unsavory business you often dealt with, that added trust alone could prove essential to the long-term goals he and his newfound friend were aiming towards, “one last mission and then we go back to being strangers. I mean it, I don’t ever want to hear from you again, are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

The details were dealt with accordingly and you returned to your hotel to bide your time until your departure the following day. Meanwhile, Bucciarati discussed the matter in depth with his team, though all the while, a flurry of unwelcome emotions stewed relentlessly through his mind, as vivid and intolerable as the last time he laid eyes on you.

“Bucciarati, I think you should seriously reconsider accepting this mission, something about it seems strange,” Giorno said as he looked over the fragment of the letter you left in their care.

“You can’t be serious, stronzo! Bucciarati can’t just ignore a direct order from the Boss!” Abbacchio exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table with such ferocity it caused the dishes to rattle in their places.

“Listen, Giorno, I know you’re new here, but the Boss doesn’t hand out missions like this to just anyone,” Fugo said, more calmly than his cohort, but still in vehement opposition to anything that may create conflict between them and the Boss. And rightfully so, it would be a foolish endeavor to even think one stood a chance against such a fearsome adversary.

“Yes, they’re right Giorno, disagreeable as they are, orders are orders and I am determined to see this through.”

Giorno sighed and mulled over the arrangement before drawing his own conclusion and covertly hiding something in Bucciarati’s pocket. “Giorno, what is—”

“Take it for luck. It’s… insurance.” Bucciarati did not need to ask questions to understand where Giorno’s intentions lay, but he could not afford to disclose any further information and jeopardize the safety of his team.

“Come Bucciarati, the instructions say to meet at Napoli Centrale, I’ll drive you.”

“That won’t be necessary Fugo, I promised my old friend that I would meet her at her hotel.”

“Is it wise to disobey orders like that?”

“Perhaps not wise, but I doubt any harm will come of it. The Boss must be well aware of our history or else he would not have specifically paired us to work together.”

“Well, alright, you would know best, just promise that you’ll be safe… for all of us, we need you as our leader.”

“Thank you, Fugo, I will make it back from this, you have my word,” Bruno declared, his resolve was evident in the deep tone of his voice. One more mission, that’s all it would be. He would earn the Boss’s trust and then you would be out of his life for good.

It was early the next morning when there came three rapid knocks on the door of your hotel room and with all the swiftness of a cat, you glided to the door and pulled the chain through the lock so that you could open the door just enough to make sure your visitor had been invited. “So you came after all, Bruno, but really, how could you stay away?” You purred as you undid the chain and bade him inside with far greater amiability than he was likely to offer you.

“You know very well that I had no choice in the matter,” he spat, trying desperately to avoid eye contact with you… those damn eyes of yours, like sparkling jewels, they always hypnotized him.

“Come now Bruno, that hurts my feelings, and after all the things we’ve been through together, it’s quite a shame, I remember when you used to be so terribly fond of me.” You purred, dragging your index finger tediously down his exposed chest.

With an abruptness that startled you out of your cavalier disposition, he harshly gripped your wrist to stop the salacious pursuit of your hand. “You know very well that any fondness I once had for you died a long time ago.”

“Are you quite certain about that? I saw the way you were looking at me at the restaurant, I think there’s a part of you that still wants me like you did all those years ago.”

His brows furrowed together and, with the same suddenness with which he had grabbed your wrist, he pushed it away and took several steps away from you.

“Aw, Bruno, haven’t you realized that you shouldn't show your hand so early?” You snickered, drifting slowly over to him, your hips swaying with each purposeful step.

“Well, it’s not as though you ever made it a challenge.” He snapped, unamused by your performance.

“If that’s the case, then how come you were never able to seal the deal? We both know how desperately you wanted to.”

“It is very like you to think more highly of yourself than you deserve, but you must be misremembering.”

“Oh, am I misremembering the compromising position that Polpo caught us in that Easter?”

“That was before Milan.”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t even the least bit curious about what would have happened if Polpo hadn’t come back early,” you said, pressing your chin to his shoulder and whispering softly into his ear.

“Hmm,” he mused carefully, drawing back from you and finally securing a seat in one of the finely quilted chairs, “even back then you tasted like a liar.” If looks could kill, you would have been dead, face down on the floor after the way he looked at you, full of hate, ire, and a deep desire for vengeance. And yet even for all the malice in his stare, it tickled you to know you still affected him so strongly. Had he truly cut you from his life with the same knife you had used to stab him in the back, he would not have been driven to such brutish, adolescent insults.

You smoothed out the skirt of your dress and sat in the chair opposite from him, quickly, but not without a degree of ceremony, you unfolded the remaining pages of the letter and spread them out in order upon the coffee table, “I suppose we should get down to business then, shall we?”

He made no reply but began to sift through the separate papers to familiarize himself with the administered task. A look of confusion sprung across his face when he reached the final sheet, “this can’t be all you were given.”

“For now, yeah, the rest of the mission will be waiting in an envelope behind The Birth of Venus then we just go from there.”

“You act like it’s that simple, thousands of people go to the Uffizi Gallery every single day!”

“And we will be among them, just leave everything up to me, I have a plan.”

“I will certainly not trust you with my life, not after last time, you will tell me exactly what you have devised and then we can decide what the best course of action is as a team.”

“A team? Well, in that case, perhaps I can accept those conditions.” You simpered, crossing one leg over the other, knowing full well it offered him a titillating view of your upper thigh. “Truth be told, Risotto and I were once… friends. I have some apprehensions about targeting him and his team, especially after what happened to Sorbetto and Gelato.”

“This is precisely why they tell you not to mix business with pleasure, though I was certain you’d learned that lesson a long time ago.”

“Hm, I don’t recall you being the jealous type, Bruno, perhaps you have changed.”

“And unfortunately for us both, it appears that you have not.”

That cut a bit deeper than his previous affronts and you felt a bit of your playfulness recede, “I’m merely saying that while Risotto was an irrevocable fool for believing he stood a chance against the Boss, I think his motives are understandable, after what happened to Sorbetto and Gelato, but they should have known better than to go poking around into the Boss’s identity.”

Bruno sat pensively as he considered the circumstances, “far be it from me to question the Boss’s absolute authority, but isn’t it a bit odd that he sent us to do a hitman’s job, that really isn’t either of our specialties.”

“Well, La Squadra was in charge of assassinations, I’m not sure he could get any one of them to defect from their leader. I suppose he trusts us more at any rate.”

“I’m sure he has plenty of other skilled assassins that would be better suited for the job than us if this job is really so important.”

“Well, you can consider it your initiation. Prove your loyalty now that you’re a capo.”

“Then why you?”

“Because of my relationship to Risotto of course. Listen, I know you aren’t fond of me, at least not anymore, but you know there isn’t a better person you could have been paired with for this mission. I know Risotto like the back of my hand, I’m wise to his tricks, I know how he thinks, and I’ve seen his Stand. I know all of his strengths and weaknesses, like it or not, you need me for this.”

“Fine then, but my previous request still stands, once this is over, you and I are strangers once again.”

“I agreed before, didn’t I?” You asked, resting your head on your folded hand to eye his movements more keenly. The stern, unwavering look on his face remained, as such you were forced to resort to far more efficacious means to restore the upper hand you so desired.

Without a word, you moved across the room with the same rhythmic sway of your hips that always seemed to catch Bruno’s eye and situated yourself before the only mirror your hotel room offered.

“What on earth are you doing?” He asked, aghast as he watched your dress flutter to the ground and pool around your feet.

“Don’t act as though it’s something you haven’t seen before,” you groaned, rummaging through the mess of your suitcase for the necessary garment until, at last, you found what you needed, an expensive sundress covered in a vibrant pattern of flowers and citrus fruits.

“And your previous attire was unsuitable?” He asked, that unflappable aplomb had been utterly laid to waste once he got a glimpse of your body.

“Naturally, we will be going to Florence, what better way to blend in than as tourists? Every member of La Squadra is a thoroughly trained assassin, this way we can hide amongst the throngs of couples on holiday and they will be none the wiser,” you explained as you stepped into the dress. “Now then, zip me up?”

“I never imagined you’d be capable of appearing so docile,” he mused, tugging the zipper up the length of your spine to where the hem of your dress sat between your shoulder blades.

“Don’t look so smug, I brought something for you to wear as well,” you said and handed him a tidy garment bag.

“You can’t expect me to wear this…” he said, recoiling as he unzipped the bag and caught sight of its sickeningly pastel colored contents.

“I do indeed, and as sexy as that suit is on you, we are aiming to be as inconspicuous as possible, so get changed, I promise you’ll look just as dashing in this little costume I’ve picked for you. Now hop to it.”

With disguises set and travel plans arranged, you boarded the train for Florence. The journey was long, several hours at least, but the journey across the Italian landscape was beautiful. Perhaps, had it not been for your addled mind, you would have been able to enjoy it more. Instead, you leaned your head against the window in your private car and watched as Bruno slept in the seat beside you. The tan suit and pale blue shirt suited him perfectly, in fact to any unknowing passerby, the two of you could have easily been mistaken for a young couple on a scenic ride through the countryside.

Baring that thought in mind, you felt nothing but contempt for the dismal shell of a life you had been living. Briefly, you wondered what might have been if young Bruno had been your savior all those years ago, but you couldn’t see past the immediate severity of what you had been rescued from. Even so, you never wanted this, but for all your dangerous desires, all the money and power you had amassed in so young a life, you knew that you could never be anything else but what you had already become. You were a murderer and no matter how you tried to couch it in the insistence of necessity, that it was a matter of your life or theirs, that they were no better than you, but no matter how you dressed it up, a murderer you would always be. Even if by some stroke of luck you managed to escape the grasp of Passione, you could never escape all you had done. Years of miserable deeds and back alley deals; it would all have to be paid for in time.

You gazed upon Bruno’s gentle face, his soft features and the glow of his tan skin always seemed somehow angelic especially in the warm light of the late morning sun, even when you had been young you’d always been struck by his appearance, he was beautiful and even beyond on that, you found him admirable, he was loyal and disciplined and merciful, all of the things you were not and it drew you to him like a moth to a flame. You wondered if he ever felt the same, dissatisfied, downcast, and disillusioned. You could recall all the nights you’d spent looking into his eyes as though you’d been twins, cut from the same cloth and doomed to the same forsaken end, but now you were not so sure. In spite of your unfathomable success, Bruno had eclipsed you somewhere in the years between. He had built a life for himself, one surrounded by friends who truly cared for him, seeing that ragtag group he’d assembled at his restaurant, you knew that he had found something that you had never been able to and you were then rendered certain that you could never again be equals. It was an appalling realization to face while stuck within the cramped walls of a train car when all you could do was stew in your dismay. Whatever you were to become, you could never be all that you wanted.

Florence, known as the birthplace of the Renaissance, has been home to many notable figures including authors Niccolo Machiavelli and Dante Alighieri as well as Renaissance masters such as Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Sandro Botticelli. In part due to the extensive commissions made by the eminent Medici family, it has been a thriving centre for history, art, and culture ever since. Many of the world’s seminal works of Italian art remain today in the many museums and chapels that line the streets, but none more recognizable than the great duomo of Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore, which prominently holds its place in the skyline, ever looming over the city like the crown marking a bygone dynasty.

And still, the city teems with life, attracting tourists from all walks of life, and that is precisely how you found yourself when the train rolled into the station on that bright afternoon.

Staying at one of the many charming little hotels, you unpacked your things and set up a makeshift base of operations where Bruno made you tediously go over the plans you had set ad nauseam; he wanted to hear every detail laid out for him in the exact order you intended for the umpteenth time, “again,” he said, the velvety timbre of his voice that you normally would have found dangerously alluring only grated on your nerves.

“We are going to the Uffizi Gallery as tourists, we will arrive just after one, when it should be the most crowded that way we can blend in seamlessly, then we will nonchalantly peruse the museum for several minutes so we don’t raise suspicion, finally, on my mark, you are going to position yourself at The Birth of Venus while I go across the hall and trip the security system, once the guards have rushed over to me, you grab the envelope and use your stand to make a swift exit. We reconvene here to figure out what needs to be done next, got it?”

“I am still finding it rather difficult to believe that you would willingly put yourself in the position to get caught, that is not how I remember you operating,” he said, though his words had been unabashedly smug, his tone was thoughtful as if he were sincerely trying to piece together the path your life had taken since you parted ways.

“Well, I just know that you are far better suited to retrieve the envelope than I am, plus, as pretty as you are, I’m sure I can do a better job of seducing the guards if need be.”

“And if the guard is a woman?”

“Ha! You act as though that would make a difference.”

“Your modesty has been dearly missed,” he said, rolling his eyes, though there was playfulness in his chides that had not been there the afternoon before.

“You know as well as anyone that my claims are not without merit.”

He let out a discontented sigh before he could manage a response, certainly, there was an inkling of truth, but did you always have to tout your wiles so audaciously? “ I was young and dumb then, I would not fall for your same tricks again.”

“Who said my tricks are the same? I have refined my craft since last we met, you could be falling for me as we speak, you might not even know it.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” He muttered before rising to his feet and tossing the sheets of paper containing your instructions onto the fire, “there, now that that’s done, we had better be off.”

So you walked, arm I’m arm through the piazza and made your way up the steps of the gallery where you seamlessly wove into the colorful menagerie of attendees that dispersed through the halls. Falling into an old routine, you walked up to a painting across the room and looked up at it with a thoughtful expression, “The Annunciation by Leonardo da Vinci,” you said, leaning closer to trace the intricate details of the diaphanous veil with you eyes, “imagine being so skilled that you can paint something sheer and gauzy like that.”

Bruno gave a little nod and followed the line of your gaze, “hm, I’ve never had the opportunity to see this one in person, quite impressive, far different from The Last Supper.”

“Now that’s one I’ve never seen in person.”

“That’s because you absconded Milan before we had the chance,” he said with that same grave intonation that he always summoned when he made reference to your duplicity.

“Not here,” you whispered tersely, giving his upper arm an emphatic squeeze, “here we are civilians and it’s imperative that we remain so. Now, let’s go.”

You left brusquely and escaped around the corner, forcing him to quicken his pace to follow after you. You continued through the bustling halls of the museum in silence, a jarring difference from the myriad of conversations from the other patrons that echoed liltingly through your ears as you wandered into each of the different rooms, passing the target of your mission several times and taking careful stock of the artwork that lined the accompanying walls.

“Don’t you think you’re taking your role as a tourist a bit too seriously?” He asked before glancing inconspicuously around the room.

“Hey, I paid for these tickets, I’m going to get my money’s worth and see the art! Won’t you indulge me a little bit, it’s not often I get to do things like this.”

“Well—”

“And think of it this way, if we do a sweep of the entire place, we can be sure no one from La Squadra is lying in wait for us.”

“Well, in that case, I suppose we can waste a few more minutes. Come along now,” he said, there was something suave about his voice as his strong hand found the small of your back as he effortlessly jockeyed you through the crowd. You felt your mind relinquish long-held apprehensions under the gentle force of his palm. So easy it was to let him take control, to let him handle you as though you were his own. Contentedly you accepted this subtle comfort as you soaked in the remaining minutes of quiet bliss.

“Hm, you know, I always preferred Primavera to The Birth of Venus.” You mused, staring up at the painting, your eyes flitted between the various allegorical figures

“Oh, is that so?”

“Definitely, the colors, the dresses, the setting, there’s something very idyllic about it; pleasant and dreamy, something that makes me feel like there’s still beauty in the world,” you quickly ceased your wistful longings, realizing you had spoken far too honestly than the moment called for, you quickly tried to divert the conversation elsewhere, “did you know the orange grove was meant to symbolize the Medici family?”

“That’s very interesting, I had no idea you were so well-versed in art.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know as much about me as you’d like to think you do.”

“Maybe so,” he murmured, twining his fingers with yours leading you to the stairs.

And so you meandered through the various rooms, hand in hadn’t while you prattled on about art and for one brief moment, you felt as though your life was normal, you felt, through all the depths of your desperation, that maybe, if your mission went well, that you could take whatever funds you acquired and run as far away from Italy as you were able, start over and never look back. Build the life you wanted from the rubble yours had crumbled into.

“You know, sometimes I feel like that,” Bruno said as you both looked at Caravaggio’s The Sacrifice of Isaac.

“Abraham or Isaac?”

The question went unanswered and you both stood in silence, staring at the scene brought to life by dramatically staged lighting that was so characteristic of Caravaggio’s works, feeling the moments tick away like grains of sand in an hourglass. “Now then, I believe it’s time for us to take our positions.” Bruno declared before taking his leave of you. It was a curious feeling, the way that his hand slipped from yours, the way the touch of his fingers lingered in the moments after as you walked in the opposite direction, ultimately landing yourself face to face with another recognizable painting. Judith Slaying Holofernes. Gentileschi’s gruesome and dynamic depiction left you to ponder how deep your resolution ran. If it came to it, could you ever posit yourself as Judith? It concerned you even further to realize that you did not know if you could.

Without any other time to think, you made your way across the room where The Birth of Venus housed and with Bruno already in place, you positioned yourself far enough away from him so that when the alarms went off, he could secure the envelope unnoticed. It was a simple task, some may say foolproof, all you had to do was reach across the threshold of the protective railing… all the world around you appeared to move in slow motion, all except for your racing heart, hammering hard against the walls of your chest. It was such an easy task, you had done far worse and yet, you hesitated. Quaking in your resolve, you made a move to look back at Bruno but before you could turn your head, someone knocked into you and sent you careening past the protective bar.

All at once, the alarm sounded, piercing the reticence of the serene gallery and then every guard in the vicinity was upon you. A swarm of quick steps and terse exchanges could be heard throughout the whole room as civilians began to gather around you to catch a glimpse of the commotion. Out of the corner of your eye, as you were assisted to your feet and escorted away via museum security, you were certain you saw Bruno quickly disappearing beyond the farthest wall, from there, you were able to breathe easy.

Bruno had made it back to the hotel with ease, your little spectacle had proved more than sufficient for him to make off with the next set of instructions unnoticed. So by the time you were released by security and made the journey back to the hotel, Bruno had already thoroughly read through the instructions and drawn several conclusions of his own. As you sheepishly slinked through the door, you found him seated in one of the comfortable chairs with his elbows resting lackadaisically against his knees.

“So it seems they let you go free without much trouble,” he drawled, straightening his posture and crossing one leg over the other.

“I told you that I can be very persuasive, did I not?” You said, muster greater confidence than you actually felt. He looked back at you without speaking, as if he were trying to reduce the veracity of your claims hidden in your shaky inflection. “So… what’s the next step, I assume you’ve read it without me.”

“I have and… here, see for yourself,” he shoved the folded sheets in your direction and watched keenly as you read through them.

“The duomo, huh? Can’t say I expected the likes of Risotto to be holed up in an ancient Cathedral, but I guess I can give him points for style,” you said, trying to disregard any apprehensions with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders.

“That is precisely what I thought… a very peculiar location for a safe house.”

“Regardless, I suppose we should devise a plan, it’ll be dark soon.”

“Listen to me, you said yourself that Risotto is a skilled assassin, why would he choose to hide himself in the most recognizable building in the entire city?”

“As you said, he’s incredibly skilled, he doesn’t need to be discreet.”

“That sounds ridiculous, even by your standards!”

“Everything else worked out, didn’t it? You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“I will not blindly trust you, I’m telling you that there is something wrong with this entire mission.”

“That isn’t for us to decide, we shut up and we do our jobs, that’s all!”

“No, you aren’t understanding, don’t you think it’s a little odd that we spent the entire afternoon in public and not a single member of La Squadra came after us?”

“Yes, but—”

“You feel it too, I know you do. Just think for a moment, you have always been shrewd, you know that something here isn’t right!” He shouted, his hands grabbed harshly to your shoulders, holding you in place, so close to him that you could feel the heat radiating off of his impassioned frame.

“No! No, I won’t even consider it. We have to do this, this is what we do, this is what we signed up for when we became mafiosi. We have to see the mission through, we don’t have a choice!” You screamed, violently breaking yourself free of his restraint.

“You’re wrong, we always have a choice, we can walk away from this.”

“You’re far too naive, Bruno, you can’t possibly believe that, if we don’t go through with this, the full wrath of Passione will be after us, we wouldn’t even make it out of Italy before they had us killed or worse...”

“Why must you always be so damn stubborn?”

“Why must you always act like you know better than I do?”

“Because I do,” he said, a coolness to his voice that left you both standing frozen in place as if noncommittal in the face of what you both knew would follow.

Propelled by some invisible force far beyond the realm of your control, your lips crashed against each other, gnashing brutally in a battle for dominance that neither of you would concede so readily.

With ease not suggested by his lithe figure, he lifted you off the ground and pinned you securely against the nearest wall with such force that it caused the decorative print to rattle against the plaster. As if on command, your legs wrapped around his slender waist to draw him closer. With sufficient stability acquired, his hands were able to roam up your thighs, enough to hike your dress up past your hips. Your skin prickled with goosebumps under the urgency of his touches and a breathy whine caught in your throat and came out as a feeble squeak which in turn, only heightened his desire and the thin lace of your panties did not help matters either, “look at you…” he murmured, his cool façade hardly concealed the ardor that had stirred his disposition. Pulling your panties to the side, his fingers were able to explore between your folds, “you’re so wet,”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You purred, back arching against the wall when you felt his fingers slipping into you.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said, pupils blown wide as saucers as he glared at you with a menacing, hungry look. Your plush walls clenched around his fingers, fuck, the way he looked at you, like he hated you, like he needed you, as if you were the only person in the world that could quell the raging fire within him— it was as though several years of unmet desires had unfolded right in front of you.

Not a sound of protest was made towards his brazen declaration and it took no more than an instant for him to throw you onto the tiny hotel bed. Before he could climb on top of you, you managed to shimmy out of your dress and toss the garishly colored fabric to the floor so that you were left in nothing but your lingerie as you lay back on the velvety comforter and watched as Bruno quickly undressed at the foot of the bed. Each discarded layer revealed more of his brilliant, tan skin, ever so lightly flushed from the ardent rush of your previous actions

Once his shirt had been cast away your eyes were able to trace the intricate line work of his tattoo down his chest to where it culminated in the outline of a heart just above his navel. The precarious position urged your eyes to wander lower as his hands moved pants to undo the button of his pants. The newfound freedom offered you an excellent view of his cock, which stood erect, firmly pressed to his abdomen. You sat up on your knees with hands folded between your legs and mouth slightly agape as you tried your best to comprehend the perfection that stood before you, there was something elegantly baroque in the man that stood before you, like a mixture of gold and marble, his statuesque frame, his svelte waist, the tantalizing taper of his long, curved cock. You traced the fine slope until you reached the pinnacle of his flared, swollen head which eagerly dripped glossy pearls of precum as he held firmly to the base of his shaft.

“On your back,” he commanded, then, before you even had a chance to comply, he climbed over you and pinned you flush against the mattress. You let out a shrill gasp of surprise when you felt his hard length rubbing against your aching sex, the thin, damp fabric of your panties was the only impedance between your two bodies.

Harsh and indelicate, he lifted your back to unclasp your bra, without much care or effort the scanty garment was tossed away and Bruno seized the opportunity to quickly explore the newly exposed skin. His teeth rasped against the swell of your breasts, leaving behind a pattern of oblong crimson marks. “Bruno,” you moaned, craning your neck back before hurriedly biting your lip to stop the indecent squeals as his lips close around your nipple, god, he hadn’t even fucked you yet, how could he have managed to unravel you so fast?

Without warning, the sensation stopped and you were left panting nearly delirious from even such paltry stimulation. Through your heavy-lidded gaze, you watched as Bruno repositioned himself at the foot of the bed, from where you lay, you could easily guess his next play and that assurance was enough to restore a bit of your confidence, “How long have you been dreaming about this moment?” You taunted, doing your best to maintain a semblance of control as he fluidly pulled you to the edge of the bed by your ankle.

“Were you not just moaning my name a minute ago?” He scolded, roughly pulling your legs apart and immediately hooking a finger under the lace band of your panties and rolling the sullied fabric down your legs. You gave a soft, approving mewl at the feeling of his warm breath against your cunt. In spite of your lewd appearance, there was something undeniably pretty about having you there in the position he had so many times imagined you in.

“Just fucking do it already!” You growled, teeth clenched to maintain an illusion of aplomb, but the frenzied look in your eyes betrayed you egregiously.

“Typical. Something doesn’t go your way so you behave like a brat, is that how you expect to be rewarded?” He teased, his mouth hovering millimeters above your throbbing pussy, so tantalizingly close, but never close enough to give in to the pleasure you wanted.

“For fuck’s sake, will you stop talking?”

“So demanding,” he purred, licking one long, arduous stripe along the entire length of your sex.

“Fuck,” you breathed, the meager sensation was enough to send a chill down your spine and leave you all but begging for more. He had intended to carry on teasing you for far longer, but the moment your honeyed taste filled his mouth, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to deny himself any longer.

He abandoned the façade of bravado in one heedless action and began frantically lashing his tongue over your cunt, drinking in the heavenly juices that poured for you all too freely with each of his reckless ministrations. The wet sounds that emanated from you were nothing short of vulgar as his skilled tongue easily parted your folds and dipped into your dripping cunt just enough to make you squirm in place, but her certainly wasn’t done with you. Once he had thoroughly enjoyed your taste, he quickly turned all of his attention to your neglected clit. The sensitive bud was hot and tender with need and even a perfunctory flick of his tongue is enough to send a jolt of electricity surging through you that only intensified when he began fervently lapping at your clit, drawing hasty, swirling patterns that made your head spin and your vision bleary. Shit, you should not have been as sensitive as you were, not that soon, but if he continued like that, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Tell me Bruno, do I still taste like a liar?” You asked through a slew of uninhibited groans that certainly made the question feel less mordant than you had intended it to be.

“A horrid, filthy, little liar,” he sneered, his lips forming the words against your needy cunt, even for all the malice he spoke, it only served to arouse your further, causing your hips to roll listlessly into his face, “an awful little liar.”

“Bruno… fuck!” You moaned, knitting your fingers into his silky black hair and tugging with such vehemence that you dislodged one of his hair clips.

He let out an inadvertent groan, either brought on by your taste alone or the strength of your grip on his hair, but that too only further drove you towards your inevitable peak. His tongue continued its relentless pursuit, maintaining the same diligent rhythm that had already rendered you delirious and you were no longer able to stifle any of the sultry moans that spilled from you, “Bruno, I’m— fuck, so close!”

Your hips sputter out, indecorously writhing to a hectic rhythm that made it difficult for him to maintain the consistent pace he had devised, but the sweet sounds of your pleasure were more than enough reinforcement for him to forge ahead. One hand spread across your pelvis in an attempt to quell your incessant thrashing. The restraint only caused the pressure to build until it became unsustainable, heat rushed to your core and the sensation you’d only tenuously been staving off snapped within you, leaving you awash with the brilliant glow of orgasm.

Satisfaction dripped off Bruno’s face as he cleaned your excess arousal off his lips, leering up at you, content to take in the vision of your panting form, only brought to such an agreeable state through his efforts. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so submissive,” he said as he pulled himself on top of you, the swollen top of his cock prodding shallowly into your entrance.

“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, damn near docile as he sunk into you. Given how amply prepared you were, it only took one effortless glide for him to be fully buried within you. You let out a shaky whine against his neck when he bottomed out, a response he couldn’t help but feel was incongruously cute compared to your typically ruthless demeanor.

It was not long before he had established a steady rhythm. He had not allowed you any time to recover from your previous release and the sensation of him savagely fucking you quickly thrust you into overstimulation. In such a state, all you could do was scream out his name between an array of curses, all of which only urged him to continue more brutally, the strength of his grip was nearly bruising as he held your hips in place to keep you from wildly bucking beneath him. He pounded into you with such ferocity that it caused the headboard to clatter against the plaster wall. Your back arched, meeting him mid-thrust to pull him back down, your tight walls sucking him in so luxuriously that he could help but let out a choky moan into the crook of your neck. Fucking you, claiming you, ruining you, reality had eclipsed anything he had ever imagined when he would violently fuck his hand to the thought of you. The silky mewls and shrill screams you made each time he drove into you rendered him certain that your neighbors and very likely every patron on the entire floor knew how much you were enjoying his cock.

Overstimulated to the point of babbling, each thrust added a new sensation you were certain you could not handle. Lost in a haze of bliss, the line between pleasure and pain had blurred beyond comprehension and you were not sure if you couldn’t cum anymore or if you simply hadn’t stopped cumming.

Your nails scratched viciously into his back, leaving behind jagged claw marks that would last more than just the evening and serve as a reminder of the amorous affair. Bruno let out a hiss and dug his teeth into the supple skin of your shoulder.

In a quick, ungainly action, he pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness caused you to let out a dejected whine for want of further stimulation, but he only knelt above you, frantically stroking the tip of his cock until he’d decorated your abdomen with sticky ribbons of cum then collapsed on the bed beside you, both more fucked out than either of you could remember.

The afterglow hung heavy in the air, lingering silently between you as reality flowed back in along with the unsettling feeling of irresolution. After you’d cleaned up the mess that had been left, You returned to the bed and covered your body with the blanket to placate the meekness that left you dithering over what needed to be said. From the window, you could see the outline of the great duomo, only faintly illuminated against the darkened sky, its imposing shadow loomed ominously over the streets, as though it were itself some great beast that would swallow you up if you dared tread further.

But before you could voice any apprehension, Bruno had left the bed and begun dressing, “well then, shouldn’t you be getting ready?” Something in the way he spoke seemed to banish all doubt from your mind, or at least enough to restore your confidence.

“Oh, I thought you were determined to abandon the mission?”

“I have my concerns, but you were right, we need to see this through to the end, whatever that may be.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you’ve finally admitted who’s really in charge here.” You simpered, padding over to him with a characteristically feline strut.

Bruno caught you mid-step and drew your body firmly against his chest so that he was able to whisper directly into your ear, “oh cara mia, we both know it certainly wasn’t you,” he said, drawing out his words far more seductively than you could handle at present and punctuating the sentiment by nipping along your earlobe, “now, don’t dawdle, we have business to attend to.”

It had been far easier to access the duomo than you would have thought, even so late into the night you would have imagined a perpetual presence of security to make sure ne’er do wells, such as yourselves, did not get up to any chicanery on the premises, but that was not the case. It merely required the picking of a cheap lock on one if the auxiliary entrances and you were in.

The air hung every in the dark halls, but even so, there was something reverent about the hallowed halls of the imposing structure. A feeling of peril caused your stomach to churn violently, it wasn’t merely the sanctity of the space that filled you with an acute sense of danger, but the sudden realization that you were not alone in the darkened chamber. You made a quick motion to turn and alert Bruno, but before you could make a sound, a large hand was clamped over your mouth and you felt your strength give out under whatever force had apprehended you

When next you awoke, you found yourself in a windowless room, tied with your back to Bruno in metal chairs that had been affixed to the ground with heavy bolts to ensure no means of escape. “Bruno…” you whispered meekly, hardly able to muster the resolve to speak in such a dismal position, “Bruno, are you alright?”

“I believe so… but I’m afraid that… from the start… this whole mission was a setup.”

“I know, I— fuck, I should’ve listened, I just didn’t want to believe that…”

“Oh, isn’t that precious, our little saboteurs are awake,” an unfamiliar voice broke through the emptiness of the room and an odd-looking man dressed in a long white coat with emerald green hair that appeared almost harlequin alongside his makeup emerged from the darkness, flanked by his even stranger looking companion who walked threateningly on all fours.

“So, I take it the Boss sent you to get rid of us,” Bruno said, managing a far more assertive tone than you would have been able to muster.

“You could say that… you see, Passione is like a living organism, all the parts must function together to keep it alive, and much like our bodies have an immune system as a failsafe to fight off any unwanted pathogens, so must our little organization. You may consider me as such.” The green-haired man mused, partly to you, partly to his associate who looked upon him with awe as he spoke, as though his words contained some kind of sacred divination. “That’s why I’ve brought you here, to test a little invention of mine… you know, when here in Florence, I can’t help but recall Leonardo, he was more than just an artist, like me, he also dabbled in many inventions himself. I was always struck by his proclivity towards water, the water wheel, hydraulics… perhaps he would find some of my research… fascinating,” he gave another wicked grin, eyes dancing with delight at the thought of his malevolent intentions.

“What are you getting at?” Bruno demanded, breaking the man free from his wistful daydreams.

“All in due time,” he said, never wavering from that malicious grin that made your heart go cold with fear.

“You know, they say drowning is one of the most painful ways to die, I must say, I’m very excited to see for myself,” he declared boldly and burst into an uncontrollable fit of cackles and anticipatory groans, “Secco! Is the camera set up yet?”

The man sat up on his hind legs and gave a series of garbled hoops and excited cries as he thrashed to and fro in wild, ungainly gestures.

“Good boy, Secco, good boy! Now how about a treat?” He groped for something in his pocket as his strange companion eagerly lashed his long, serpentine tongue around his mouth, then darted with expert precision after what had been tossed his way. So nimble, he almost defied gravity as he snatched the sugar cubes out of the air and began to gnaw on them like a rabid animal.

“You’re sick,” you spat, brows furrowed with disgust and indignation.

A dreadful, malignant smirk settled across the green-haired man’s face as he knelt down to your level. A skilled hand dragged across your cheek, unexpectedly tender as he caressed your smooth skin, “is that what you think?” He asked, baring his teeth as he roughly grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, “on the contrary, dear girl, I am free. The same cannot be said for a weak little traitor such as yourself.”

You clamped your eyes shut, frantically shaking your head to dislodge his grip but to no avail, all of your efforts only earned you a forceful slap across your face that caused your cheek to burn, swollen and red from his violence. “You know, It’s useless to struggle, but then again, it’s so deliciously fun to watch you try!”

“Why not just use your Stand to kill us?”

“Oh you pretty little thing, that’s the best part! I don’t have to.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to summon any kind of response, before a man as cruel and sadistic as he, you were utterly helpless.

“And Bucciarati, I can see the gears turning in that head if yours, ‘once they leave, I’ll use my Stand to get us out of this,’ and while I admit that your Stand in particular is a bit of a nuisance, I would strongly advise against taking such a measure, you see, even with whatever evasive maneuvers you may attempt, we have ways assuring you do not get far.”

The quadrupedal man let out a series of gleeful howls as if to affirm his companion’s threats.

“Now, what will happen? Hmm, decisions, decisions. Will you lie down and die like the good dogs you are? Ah, or maybe perhaps you will pull one another down like crabs in a bucket. Or maybe one of the lovers will make a desperate attempt to save the other. Hmm… which will it be? I can’t endeavor to say.”

“Have you been watching us…?”

“Oh, my dear girl, our eyes haven’t left you since you departed from Napoli, any secrets you might’ve thought you had… well, rest assured that I have them very well kept,” he said, falling into a menacing laugh as he patted the handheld camera.

“Fucking sicko,” you snapped, indignantly writhing in your bindings in a futile attempt to free yourself.

“Aw, poor little puppy, all bark and no bite,” Cioccolata sneered, eyes darting for you over to Bruno, “She’s in love with you, you know?”

Violently, you bit your lip, how could you even begin to formulate a response? “Oh, by the looks of it I guess you didn’t know, well, it’s no matter.” He said, crossing the room and pulling a heavy lever. The loud, mechanical noise of machinery engaging could be heard through the ancient stone, “I look forward to the show, please do remember to smile for the camera.”

With that, both he and his companion took their leave through the only exit, a heavily barred metal door that you knew you wouldn’t have a chance of breaking through. And then you heard it, faint at first, but the distinct sound of running water caught your attention, open pipes on either side of the room flowed freely, splashing violently against the floor, faster and faster with each second that passed and only then did you fully understand the meaning of your captor’s threats. There were no exits, no windows, no vents, nothing to let the water out, you were trapped and the flow of the water only seemed to quicken as the flood reached your feet.

“Is this really how it all ends?” You asked, a vehement lamentation to no one in particular as you struggled restlessly in your bindings.

“It should be a few hours before it’s over our heads, maybe we can think of something in that time.”

“No, don’t you see that it’s hopeless, they must’ve had this planned for weeks, the only way out is through that door and they’re on the other side. They’re going to kill us one way or another… we lost.” You sank into silence and let the sound of the water drown out your other senses. It was sick indeed to force you to sit and contemplate your death for hours before it arrived, even sicker to derive some twisted satisfaction from it all. You were bested and there was nothing for you to do but wait for death to come and hope for your sake that it would come swiftly.

“He called you a traitor… what did you do?” Bruno asked, breaking the silence as the water crept up past your knees.

“How should I know, he’s obviously fucking crazy, he called you one too and I know for a fact that Bruno Bucciarati, Polpo’s finest little soldier, would never betray the big bad Boss.”

Bruno sat silent for a long time, he hadn’t planned on telling you the extent of his perfidy, but if you both were going to die anyway, it would be almost an act of confession. “He wasn’t lying…”

“Bruno… you didn’t…”

“Not me, Giorno.”

“ That little blond with the baby face? No, I can’t believe that.”

“I don’t know how he did it, but he did. He went to see Polpo in prison and the next I heard, the man was dead. I believe he intended to use my newfound privileges as capo to help me unmask the Boss, I guess it is all for nought now.”

“Why Bruno, you knew that would be a death sentence… why?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of seeing people… of seeing kids end up on the street, addicted to drugs… the same goddamn drugs the Boss sells, the same goddamn drugs my father was killed for and for what? Money, power? As if the Boss doesn’t already have more than enough of either. Those are people, good people, my people and they’re suffering and they’re dying and it’s my fault because I answer to the same power that signs their death warrants. I have to do something, I have to make things better, it’s my responsibility.”

“Bruno, you know that’s a damn pipe dream, you know you can’t take on the Boss!”

“I knew the risk when I took it, but I believe in Giorno, if there’s anyone out there that can usurp the Boss, it’s Giorno Giovanna!”

“How can you have such faith in someone you just met?”

“Because I have seen what he’s capable of, I’ve witnessed his brilliant determination, I believe that he will accomplish all he sets out to do, with or without me.”

You pondered his words carefully, had the sentiment not been so foolish, it would have been touching, but regardless, you felt it was too late for secrets as you felt the water rise past your abdomen.

“I’m the one who told Sorbetto and Gelato where they could find information about the Boss’s identity, I’m the reason they were killed.”

“That’s rich after all waxing on about the folly it would be to take him on. Tell me, how did you even come by such privileged information?”

“Last summer, I met a man on the French Riviera who told me that he knew the Boss’s identity, somehow he fought him and survived and… he wanted me to help him take out the Boss, I turned him down, told him no one could withstand the full force of Passione’s wrath. I guess I was right.”

“But you had no problem selling that information to Sorbetto and Gelato,” he said callously, adding insult to injury.

“Listen, what they do is their business, not mine, I have to look out for myself above anyone else.”

“Just as you always have,” he spat, vitriol spilling off his tongue with each pointed word, like a poisoned dagger to the heart.

“I… I didn’t want it to end like this… I thought… I thought if there was anyone who stood a chance against Diavolo, it would have been La Squadra. I only told them how they could get in contact with my informant, that was all. I thought they’d concoct a better plan, I thought maybe Risotto…”

“Diavolo… so that’s his name, huh? I guess it doesn’t matter now, poetic really, that I finally learn his identity, but I’m going to die before it can be of any use.”

Conversation ceased as you both fell silent, the soft hiss of the water filling the room was the only sound that could be heard, endlessly jeering at your helplessness. You glanced around the room in the hope that you could locate some weak point that could serve as an exit, but your search proved fruitless, and with the water already up to your chest, there seemed no other possibility than to accept your dismal defeat, certain that from wherever he watched, your captor took sadistic satisfaction in your inevitable surrender.

“Bruno…” you said, at last breaking the silence, though your voice was stifled and words had been muddled by your tears, “Bruno, it was my fault… in Milan, it was all my fault. It was a stupid risk to take and I almost got us both killed and then… and then I left you with the mess. I— Bruno, I’m so sorry, it was such a selfish thing to do, do you think you could ever forgive me?”

“If we make it out of here alive, you may consider yourself forgiven.”

You mustered a feeble sound of thanks through your sobs but any intelligent words had been long abandoned.

The water had risen to your neck, it would not take much longer for you to be swallowed up, perhaps Bruno could last a few extra minutes but what did it matter in the end? Your thoughts grew fuzzy from the great strain it was to keep your head above water. It wouldn’t be long, only a minute more and your head would be underwater.

It was then, at the moment when you were sure all hope had been dashed, when you had resigned yourself to the inevitability of your death, that a muffled clamor rose beyond the thick stone walls of your would-be tomb.

“How’s it going Narancia, we have to find Bucciarati and fast!”

“W-what’s going on?” You mumbled, struggling to make sense of the noises in your listless state.

“Got it! There should be two people in the next room!”

“Giorno! He must’ve been tracking us this whole time.” The thought had not occurred to Bucciarati until just then, but he had wisely held onto Giorno’s parting gift throughout the entire mission. It seemed like it had brought good luck after all.

“Stand aside, leave the rest to me,” the sound of crumbling masonry echoed loud across the receding water and the light that filtered in when the wall had been breached seemed almost blinding to your eyes. There, standing framed in a golden mandorla of new dawn light, was Giorno Giovanna, regal and determined as the dust settled around him, “Bucciarati, are you alright?”

What happened next was a blur, but someone pulled you from the water as Giorno gave Bruno a complete rundown of the situation, how Giorno had been able to track your location with the ladybug his Stand had imbued with life, how they had managed to kill the two men that held you captive, and their tentative plan to proceed now that they had fully defied the Boss. Of course, Bruno was all too eager to inform Giorno of all you had told him, the Boss’s identity, your secret informant, the inevitable defection of La Squadra. With everything looked at together, it was as though each piece of the puzzle had fallen perfectly into place and Giorno rejoiced in the miracle of timing.

It did not take long for a plan to be devised and with the added strength of La Squadra and the help of one eager Frenchman, it was only a matter of time before Diavolo was defeated and Giorno assumed his rightful position as the head of Passione.

“Tell me,” he said one average day only a few months after all had been said and done, “what is it that you truly want?”

“I want out of this life for good,” you answered readily, it was the truth after all.

“Is that all?” He asked, the drawl of his voice as sweet and commanding as it always was.

“Well, I suppose… I’d like to go to Milan,” you said, a curious diffidence had arisen in your voice as you stated your request.

“Then so it shall be,” he said with the gentlest of smiles that made him appear more like an angel than any man you’d ever seen before.

And as he ordained it, so it was.

“Well, is it everything you thought it would be?” Bruno asked, his hand in yours as you stood before The Last Supper.

“No— I mean yes… it’s marvelous, it’s incomprehensible… thank you for taking me.”

He gave a salacious purr as he kissed the back of your hand, “I couldn’t think of anyone better to accompany me.”

“It’s a little nostalgic being back here, don’t you think?”

“Well amore mio, for what it’s worth,” he began, moving his arm around your waist as you exited the church and began the walk back to that little hotel you stayed in what felt like a lifetime ago, “I have always loved Milan.”

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dailynnt · 2 days ago

Text

FRIENDS WITHIN TUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 26/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Hi guys 🥰 It's been a week since I posted part 25. I really don't have enough time to write for you on time, so I apologize for the long wait 🥺🫂 I hope this part was worth it 🥹 Let me know in the comments ❤️‍🩹

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi, @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie, @kooccult , @smokinghotstargirl, @curse-of-art @wintaemoonjen (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 25. Gold on the tip of the knife.

Jungkook walked over to the table. His thoughts were overloaded and he was still there, in the businesses he could never fully detach himself from. He had done too much today. He had gone over the plan for the delivery of the Uranium, talked to the logistics company that would be transporting the Uranium, and decided issues about set up a fake company that would sell depleted uranium to the military. It all took a lot of time, absorbed him, made him keep his mind in constant tension.

You had been with his mother all day, so he didn't have to constantly apologize for his busy schedule, but even now, when you and your parents were gathered for dinner together, Jungkook left the table every now and then to talk on the phone and take care of important things.

His fingers automatically gripped the phone before he put it away in his jacket pocket. His head was buzzing with endless calculations and plans, but as soon as he look up, all that tension gave way to something deeper.

You.

He looked at you and didn't like the way you looked. He saw you trying to smile and make conversation with your parents, but you were doing it for strength and he could see it.

Tomorrow, when you get back to Seoul, he will take you to the doctor right away. Most likely, it's overwork from work and studies. He told you to quit that job, but you're stubborn. You made a promise to someone. That's ridiculous. Why are you so righteous? But if the doctor confirms that you're exhausted, he'll go and fire you from that store himself.

Jungkook sat down slowly, not taking his eyes off you. You gave him a quick glance and looked away. You didn't even smile at him. Are you annoyed that he's always leaving because of calls? Or is it because he's having a busy day?

Jungkook looked at your plate. It was almost clean. And the panjang you had bitten once remained lonely on the round plate, obviously never to be finished at all. There was a lot of food on the table: baked fish in ginger sauce, kimchi, several types of panjon, beef soup stewed in spicy herbs, rice with chestnuts, and, of course, makkoli. You helped his mother prepare all these dishes, but you barely ate any of them.

His fingers involuntarily gripped the edge of the table. When your mothers switched to discussing a recipe and your fathers left the table, Jungkook leaned over to you.

"You're not eating anything." - His voice sounded calm, but there was a hidden anxiety in it. You barely looked up and forced a smile.

"I'm just not really hungry. I had time to taste everything while we were cooking with the omony." - You answered, adjusting your plate. Jungkook didn't believe you.

He saw how you could barely hide your fatigue. He saw how your eyes were a little cloudy. He had noticed this for days, but you kept insisting that everything was fine. He was irritated by your self-sacrifice for no one in particular.

"Do you feel bad now?" - He asked, still quietly, but insistently, so that the mother would not hear.

"No, I'm fine." - You said seriously. He saw that you were tense. He is annoyed leaned away from you. He touched the glass from which he was drinking the juice, and just started spinning it. Jungkook ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, holding back the urge to yell at you. He was annoyed by everything today, but he couldn't snap at you.

Suddenly, you stood up from the table. Jungkook watched you stand up, pushing the chair back with a slight movement. Your fingers touched the fabric of your dress briefly, as if you wanted to tidy it up, but he knew it was a habit when you were nervous or trying to hide something from him.

You said something about being right back, but didn't look at him. This alerted him.

"Son, between you everything okay?" - Jungkook heard his mother's voice. He turned his head toward her and met two pairs of concerned eyes. His and your mothers were waiting intently for an answer.

"Yes, mom, everything fine." - Jungkook says, and he doesn't believe his words. Of course nothing is fine. Why would you be sick? "But I'm going to go check for sure."

Jungkook wants to get up from the table, but the phone rings.

Shit. His fingers tightened around the device, and he pulled it out of pocket, glancing at the screen. An unfamiliar number. The mothers watched with the same concern.

"Excuse me." - He says briefly and walks into the kitchen. Behind the kitchen in Jungkook's parents' house was a closed terrace. He goes there so that no one can hear his conversation. All day long, he hasn't been contacted about the direct delivery of uranium, and maybe this is the that call. On his way terrace, Chonguk picks up the phone.

"Yes?" - His voice is unwavering.

"Jeon Jungkook-shi?" - He hears a man's voice on the other end of the line.

"Who is this?" - He doesn't answer, but instead asks his own question.

"My name is Lee Hyuwon, I'm a transportation agent. I was given your number. They told me to contact you about a delivery." - The voice on the phone was low and steady, as if the man was talking about something mundane. Jungkook tensed slightly, looking out the window at the dark sky. His fingers tightened their grip on the phone.

"What kind of delivery?" - He asked, just to be sure.

"The cargo you're interested in." - He answers meekly. Uranium. But must be a code word. If he says it, this is exactly the man he needs. Jungkook is silent for a moment, staring at the reflection of his face in the glass of the terrace.

"I see." - He finally answered, keeping his voice calm and businesslike. "Who gave you my contact?"

"Mutual acquaintances." - The man answered without giving specifics. Jungkook was on the alert.

"Did they give you the details?" - Jungkook asked.

"The highlights. The cargo is special, requires care, and needs to be delivered on time." - Lee Hyuwon says seriously.

"Okay, but..." - Jungkook wanted to ask about the code word, but he was interrupted by the man on the other side of the line.

"Jeon Jungkook-shi, I have some samples with me that you could inspect, so if you have time we could meet." - The carrier offers.

"Samples?" - Jungkook asks again. No one said there would be samples, and that he should check them. "I have no information about that."

The man on the other end of the phone falls silent and hums into the receiver.

"That's strange. That's why I had to contact you, to arrange the delivery and for you to look at the samples." - The man says. Jungkook raises his eyebrows. This is really strange.

"I need to know out more information. Besides, I'm not in Seoul, so there's no way I can meet you today." - Jungkook says, already planning to call Jimin.

"Oh. Yes, sir. I really don't understand why this happened. However, I don't know if my boss not will be happy that the meeting won't take place soon. I also don't think he'll be happy with the fact that you didn't know about the samples..." - The man says. Jungkook tenses up more. He clutches the phone in his hand as if he wants to smash it. He's been in trouble all day, and he doesn't need Namjoon to get angry because Jimin or Hoseok didn't give him any information. He exhales into the phone, he needs to make an appointment for tomorrow morning. But before Jungkook can say anything, the carrier continues. "In any case, let's coordinate with each other on what time we can meet. Because the cargo is not in Seoul, but in Suwon, you'll need to come in person."

Jungkook freezes. In Suwon? What a coincidence. Perhaps it's fate smiling down on him. Because if he can come now and look at the samples and discuss all the details about the uranium (its quantity and payment), Namjoon will be satisfied. He hasn't told anyone that he's going to visit his parents in Suwon with you. So it may be for the best that he is here.

"Are you saying the cargo is in Suwon? Where is the warehouse?" - Jungkook asks.

"On the outskirts of town. It's an industrial warehouse on Gyeonggi-ro. I'll send you the location via geolocation." - The driver replies.

"I'm not far away. I can get to the warehouse within 30 minutes." - Jungkook offers. He runs his hand over his chin, waiting for a response.

"How nice to do business with you. It's so good that you are here. Then our bosses won't have to worry. Right? I'll be waiting for you in thirty minutes. I'll reset the geolocation in just a minute." - The man says flatteringly. Jungkook responds "waiting" and disconnects the call. He stood there for a few seconds, staring at the black screen of his phone, analyzing the conversation.

Everything sounded like it was really the person who was supposed to contact him. But why hadn't he been warned about the samples he was supposed to examine? Besides, he didn't know how he was supposed to do it properly. He's learned some of the information he needs about Uranium, but he's definitely not an expert to evaluate the product. Maybe samples to know what the actual product will look like? That's weird. It's very weird.

Jungkook dials Jimin's phone. He doesn't pick up. Then he dials Hoseok’s phone. There are several rings and the call is dropped. Damn it. He'll call back on the way to the warehouse.

Jungkook turns around and walks to the door leading to the kitchen. He needs to go to the table and tell everyone that he's going to be gone for an hour. But before that, he needs to find you.

Jungkook opened the door and literally ran into you. You were standing under the door, looking at him in fright. He froze, just like you. You wanted to leave, but he grabbed you by the arm and pushed you out of the kitchen and onto the terrace. You gasped at the sudden movement. Jungkook pushed you against the wall, locking the door.

"Did you really do that? Are you eavesdropping?" - Jungkook asks, hovering over you. He can feel the irritation getting the better of him. You don't need to know what you're not supposed to know. You stand against the wall, pale and tired. But your gaze is determined and shows no weakness at all.

You didn't answer him right away. He saw you trying to collect your thoughts, as if you were looking for the right words.

"I accidentally..." - You say confidently, but Jungkook interrupts you unceremoniously. He doesn't want you to know anything.

"What did you hear?" - He asks a bit abruptly, which makes you raise your eyebrows slightly. He doesn't want to push, but he needs to know what you heard. You put your hands on his chest and want to push him away. But it makes Jungkook angry, he's not in the best mood today, so he's loses his temper easily. And even you are starting to make him angry. Your curiosity and stubbornness can backfire on you. You're up to your old tricks, and he has to be more careful this time because dealing with uranium is too dangerous.

"Let go of me." - You say, and he pressing your body against the wall. The wall is cold and Jungkook is worried that it might worse you, because you are already unwell. But he can't let go of you until you tell him what you heard. Your palms on his chest, giving him warmth, but your eyes are angry.

"Tell me." - He says shortly. You stare at each other, your eyes drilling into each other. Right now you don't look like a couple in love, but rather like people who won't give in for anything.

"I didn't hear much." - You say dryly.

"I'm not asking how much, I'm asking what did you hear?" - Jungkook insists. His voice is demanding, but not harsh. Again, you just stare at him angrily. Jungkook is late for the meeting, so you have to speak up.

"I heard you were going to leave. And that it was some about the samples." - You finally answer. Jungkook clenches his jaw. So it's almost nothing. But he needs to make sure that's all you heard. He brings his face closer to yours.

"Are you sure that's all you heard? Because if you lied to me..." - Jungkook says quietly. You raise your eyebrows skeptically.

"So what?" - You ask confidently. Jungkook bites his lip, and you can't miss the movement. He laughs when he sees you following his lips.

"Baby, you better not try to find out. You don't need it. So just tell me everything you heard." - He says with a shadow of a smile on his lips, but it quickly disappears when he looks back into your eyes. "I don't like being followed, especially by you."

"I told you everything I heard." - You say harshly. Your hand presses down on his chest again, leaving even more heat. Jungkook gets upset when you add. "Don't talk with me like this. I'm not your client, the one you're beating information out of. I overheard your conversation because I was looking for you. I'm not spying on you."

He holds his breath, as if for a moment he realizes that you are telling the truth, that he shouldn't be talking to you like this, but he's not ready to let go of the situation. He knows that you could have heard everything, but for some reason you don't tell him anything.

He pressed himself against you as much as possible, so that his chest was now touching yours. One of his hands rested on the wall near your head at eye level, and the other clenched your jaw. His lips touched your cheek.

"Everything is so fucking annoying today, and you're not helping. You walk around pale, eat nothing, and eavesdrop. Do you think I should hold back now, or should I let go of everything that's been building up?" - Jungkook's voice sounds tense and heavy. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, but he doesn't let himself relax completely. His hand on your jaw tightens, and his breath is heavy and hot, close to your ear.

"Jungkook..." - Your voice is quiet but determined. You try to keep it calm, even though your heart is beating faster from what's happening. You don't want him to understand your emotions, your uncertainty. But he notices it anyway.

He touches your cheek again, gently, but still with a hint of control.

"Are you forgetting who I am? It's not my fault that you have some problems. We went to parents' house, and you're on that fucking phone all the time, and you're going to go somewhere at this hour." - You say irritated. You try to pull away, but he won't let go of you. His eyes are dark, and his anger and irritation are evident in every movement.

"That's why you're angry with me, I can see that. But honey, I really have a lot of work to do, and it can't wait." - He says softer.

"Of course it can’t. But I'll wait, right? You can do whatever you want and go all the four sides of the world." - You say colorlessly. Jungkook was torn inside. You really angry. He holds his breath when he hears your cold response. His hand on your jaw tightens, his fingers gripping your chin so hard you feel slight pain. His eyes burn you, but he doesn't let go. There is bitterness in your words, and he cannot lose control again.

"You tell me not to talk to you rudely, but watch how you talk, baby. I'll go all four ways if it's with you." - His voice becomes deeper, almost hostile. He leans in closer, so that his breath touches your lips, and he are already reaching for your lips gently but insistently. You rest your hands against his chest, not letting him kiss you.

"I don't want you to kiss me right now." - You say even more harshly. He stops just a centimeter away.

"But I want to." - Jungkook says, unrestrained. "I haven't kissed you all day."

You snort, and it sounds mocking.

"Have you noticed? Don't kiss me when you're acting like this. Your work is none of my business. I didn't lie to you, I told you what I heard. That's it. Let me go now." - You say threateningly. Jungkook sees how angry you are, but he can't let you go. He really can't. He wants to kiss you. Even more, he wants to fuck you, but wonder if he should? Your parents might notice that you've been gone for a long time, and he's late for a meeting.

Jungkook suddenly leans down and captures your lips. Unexpectedly, you scream softly into his lips. You didn't close your eyes when he kissed you. You try to push him away, but your boyfriend is a rock. He kisses you, a hot, eager kiss that makes your heart beat faster.

You involuntarily feel all your control dissipate. But you don't want to give up, you don't want to show how you going weakness in front of him as soon as he kisses you so passionately. So you sharply push him away from you, trying to give yourself some space.

"Are you deaf, Jeon? I told you not to touch me!" - You almost shout. Your voice is filled with anger.

Jungkook smiles. He doesn't even let you take a step back. He comes closer again, pushes you against the wall again, his body literally engulfing yours. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, but his hands on your hips no longer resemble control - they own you, stubbornly trying to make you submit.

"Come on, my baby. You want it too." - He says boldly and his lips find yours again, this kiss even more impatient, thirsty. He wants your commitment, he wants your attention, he wants you to stop fighting him.

You can't let it go that easily. You respond to his kiss, at first with a little resistance, but then your hand involuntarily stops at his neck, pulling him even closer. Your bodies touch, and you feel all the bitterness that has accumulated between you, but at this moment you want nothing more than to give yourself to him completely.

Jungkook sees you giving in and breaks the kiss and looks at you, his eyes burning with desire.

"See? I know you." - He slips his hand under your sweater, slides it easily over the top you're wearing instead of a bra. When he squeezes your breasts slowly and with some force, you hold back a moan. He looks into your eyes, radiating cunning.

"It pisses off..." - You say, exhaling. Jungkook pulls your sweater and top up over your breasts and presses his lips to one of your breasts. As his tongue sucks in your flesh, you hold back a scream of pain. Jungkook tastes your nipple so good. But he wants to feel how wet you are. When he ignores your words and kisses your nipple, he reaches down to your leggings and easily gets under your underwear.

Jungkook pulls away from your nipple and, breathing heavily because he's aroused, approaches your flushed face. A moan escapes your lips as he massages your clit. Fuck, you're so wet for him, he could enter you so easily.

"So what were you saying? What's pissing you off?" - Jungkook asks demandingly, subjecting you to sweet torture. He kisses your jawline, and you try to say.

"It pisses off... that you..." - You are completely unable to speak because Jungkook has entered you with his fingers and is fucking you with them. He stretch up the fabric of your leggings so that his hand has a comfortable position.

Your legs give out and you can't stand. Jungkook is amused by your reaction. You look so sexy. Red, with your hair tousled, your eyes closed in pleasure. He leans down to kiss you. He puts his tongue in your mouth and you willingly accept it. And you return the kiss more than willingly, making him even more excited. Jungkook parted your lips and whispered without pulling away.

"Do I piss you off?" - He tries to find out. His fingers continue to fuck you.

"Mhhh." - You moan at his actions. "Not you. But that you turn our fights into fucking." - You finally say it. Jungkook laughs lightly.

"I never believe that you don't like it." - He says defiantly. "Besides, we didn't fight. We just argued a little." - You can't react because Jungkook has moved to your clit again. You're about to come.

"I... I don't like..." - You want to object, but you come on Jungkook's fingers. He feels your clit twitch and he presses lightly on it, extending your orgasm. You moan, feeling blissful. God, your parents are at the table, and you, or rather Jungkook, is does this with you. He's smiling, happy to have made you come. You try your best to fill your lungs with air.

Jungkook's hard length presses into your thigh. You cast a quick glance between your bodies, and when you return it, you meet your boyfriend's lustful eyes.

"I want to fuck you, my love." - Jungkook says.

"But we've been gone long enough. Our parents will be looking for us." - You warn. But Jungkook has already turned your back to him and removed your leggings in one motion, along with your underwear. He admired your naked ass for a moment, and then leaned over to you, pressing you against the wall. You put your arms at wall for something to hold on to.

"They won't look for us, because they know I went to comfort you." - Jungkook mockingly said the last word. "How do you like my consolation? Huh, baby?" - He asks in your ear. He takes off his pants and boxers and his warm, hard cock hits your buttocks. It takes him a matter of seconds to find your passage and insert his erect cock into it. You're wet, and Jungkook can feel it with his tip.

"Kook..." - You call out to your boyfriend, who is already plunging into you. At the beginning, you feel a slight pain, and the way Jungkook is in a hurry. You press your fingers against the wall until they turn white.

Jungkook heard your soft cries and slowed down, and he plunged more slowly the rest of the way. He moved away from your ear and stood up straighter. He took his hands on both sides of your hips to better control his movements. Jungkook squeezed in out of your passage as much as possible and you moaned. He couldn't hold back his moan either. That beautiful pussy took him well, as always.

Jungkook leaned down to your ear.

"Does it feel good, love?" - He asks in a caring, gentle voice. He's still worried that you're not feeling well.

"Yes." - You assure him, turning your head to him. "Very well." - Your voice sounds like a confession. Jungkook kisses shoulder and then straightens up. He strokes your thighs as if to soothe you.

"Be quiet, my baby." - He asks, and then begins to fuck your cunt rhythmically. It feels divine as always. Your tight pussy wraps around his cock so tightly. Jungkook fucks you every day, but he's never satisfied. What have you done to them? How do you make him want you so easily?

Jungkook has never felt this way about anyone before. He can't understand what's happening to him. He's never enough. It's like you're destroying all his reasonable boundaries by making him want you more and more.

How do you so easily overcome his emotionally controlled emotions? How do you seem to be able to make him forget everything else with simple words or gestures? You are not like everyone else. "I'm never enough," is the thought in his head again, and he can't push it out. He doesn't even want to. With you, he always need more.

You have broken down his walls. And he feels you in a way he hasn't felt anyone before. You are his addiction.

Jungkook fucks you fast and deep, he doesn't have time to stretch out the pleasure. You moan softly, your head tilted down. Jungkook grabs your chest and holds you close. You reflexively put your hands on his, squeezing his it.

"Where do you want me to cuming? Inside? Or maybe in your mouth?" - He asks, sounding bass in your ear. You moan, his cock inside you, his suggestions, and his hands massaging your breasts.

"Wherever you want." - You answer, not quite soberly evaluating Jungkook's words. Jungkook smiles with satisfaction. He turns your head and kisses you, deeply, hotly.

He leans you against the wall and speeds up the movement. You moan with every movement. The friction inside takes you to heaven. After a moment, you squeeze Jungkook's cock with your walls, you come around his cock. Jungkook can barely keep from cumming. He stops abruptly and comes out of you. He turns you toward.

"Get on your knees, love." - He asks. You kneel down, still feeling the waves of your orgasm. Jungkook takes a step towards you and you immediately open your mouth. His length is halfway in, and you start sucking him off. You don't have to do this for long, because Jungkook is about to come. His hard cock is in your mouth. You can taste the salty taste of his and your own cum.

You pump your head, sucking his hot cock. Jungkook curls his hand around your hair and moves your head. His velvety tip is dangerously on the bottom of your tongue.

Jungkook hardens even more. Your lips look so good on his cock. He can't hold back any longer. He gets hard as a rock and then he cums on your tongue. You swallow every last drop. He moans above your head, throwing it back. He looks down at you, admiring your position.

Jungkook stops moving his hips when he's completely softened. He gently withdraws from your warm, welcoming mouth, his cock. A ribbon of your saliva and his cum trailing his cock from your lips. You smile at him. He smiles back at you.

Jungkook gently helps you off your knees and kisses your lips. Lightly, almost without weight. He puts on his boxers, pulls on his pants, and even manages to dress you.

"Don't be mad at me." - Jungkook asks, hugging you and putting his forehead against yours. "I'm going to go to a meeting in a little while and we'll talk afterwards, okay?"

You smile. You feel better than you did before sex with Jungkook, even if it did take some energy. You're even hungry. You pull away from his forehead.

"It's okay. I won't be angry. How can I be angry after all these?" - You joke. Jungkook laughs heartily.

"That was the plan from the beginning." - Jungkook jokes back. "I'll only be an hour, maybe less."

Kongi-ro, 8:17 p.m.

The black Hyundai Palisade came to an abrupt stop at the entrance to the large warehouse. Jungkook took his father's car so he wouldn't have to use his own. On the way to the warehouse, he called Jimin and Hoseok several times, but no one answered. What the hell were they doing?

Jungkook is almost twenty minutes late because he fucked you on the terrace. This sex helped him partially relieve the tension he had been feeling all day because of organizing the uranium delivery.

However, his muscles are tensing again, but he is calm. He turned off the engine and turned off the headlights. At the entrance to the large warehouse, a group of men stand, cars and several minivans lined up along the side.

He got out of the car, glancing at the tall, thin figure of a man in a black coat standing in the center. His eyes glittered coldly in the semi-darkness, and he wore a slight smile on his face, as if he knew Jungkook would be there, despite his lateness.

"Jungkook-shi." - Lee Hyuwon was the first to respond, as if they had known each other for years. "You're late, but I'm still glad you came."

Jungkook looks around at the people around him. He didn't expect so many people. But these people are allies, he doesn't worry about them harming him.

"I got into a little traffic jam. I apologize." - He says, shaking hands with a man who introduced himself as Lee Hyuwon.

"Oh, it happens sometimes." - Hyuwon says in a friendly manner. They fell silent and Jungkook felt an inner discomfort. He cast a few glances around and turned to the man who had made the appointment.

"So where's the cargo?" - Jungkook asked. It was suspicious that Seongwan was taking his time.

"It's inside." - Hyuwon says meekly. "Please follow me." - The skinny man turned around and walked toward the entrance of a tall metal structure. Jungkook followed after Hyuwon, taking a closer look at everything around him. It was quite dark inside the warehouse, with only a few neon lights creating dim illumination. The air smelled like oil, iron, and something else... Jungkook knew the smell for sure - gunpowder.

His heart beat faster for a moment, but he remained outwardly unmoved. Long wooden crates were stacked on top of each other, and some of them had plastic wrappers sticking out. Hyuwon slowly walked over to one of them and tapped the lid with his fingers.

"Here is the product. I'm sure you'll like it." - The man's voice was excited with joy. Jungkook raised his eyebrows. He took a few steps forward, as if curiously evaluating the goods. One of Hyuwon's men opened the crate, and what he saw was not nuclear material, but precision weapons.

Heavy semi-automatic rifles, with perfectly polished black bodies, lay neatly in a row.

"These are weapons." - Jungkook says, more to himself than to the others.

"Yes. Good weapons that are highly accurate and of excellent quality. I've been assured that this is the kind of weapon you use." - Hyuwon confirmed. Jungkook thinks. This is not Uranus. So this meeting is not what he expected. Where the hell did this man come from and why did he think he needed a guns?

Before the new year, Jungkook bought a new weapons, he doesn't need it. He looks at the boxes and then turns to Hyuwon.

"Who gave you my contact remind me again?" - Jungkook asks demandingly. Hyuwon is visibly nervous, but he tries to hide it behind a smile, but Jungkook sees through it.

"Takeshi Tanaka, you worked with him. He mentioned you and said you'd be interested." - Hyuwon says, putting confidence in his voice. Jungkook doesn't remember the name. But they're actively working with the Japanese mafia, so he could have just forgotten. "This is an exclusive, Jungkook-shi. Great guns, great price. Take a closer look, you can hold it in your hands, evaluate the balance." - Hyuwon offers. Hyuwon looks at the weapon and then at the man in front of him.

"I don't need this weapon. And I don't know why Tananki thought I'd buy it from you." - Jungkook says businesslike. Hyuwon doesn't look upset. But his eyes have narrowed slightly, and he doesn't look as friendly anymore.

"You didn't even consider the offer." - He said coldly.

"Because I'm not interested." - Jungkook replied indifferently. The people accompanying Hyuwon visibly tensed up. He held the man's gaze, demonstrating his position. Hyuwon smiled, slowly, almost predatory.

"Well, then, you have no business being here, Jungkook-shi." - He bowed slowly. Hyuwon watched this movement. His intuition told him that something was wrong. Something was wrong with this man and this meeting in general.

"Obviously." - Jungkook said looking Hyuwon straight in the eye.

"But I'd advise you to write down my number, I'll give you the best prices and quality product." - He holds out his hand. Jungkook looks at it, but doesn't shake it back.

"I'll keep that in mind." - Jungkook says. Jungkook took a step back, watching Hyuwon's men stand frozen, waiting for further developments. He no longer had a reason to stay here, and he had to find out who the Japanese man was who was throwing his contacts around.

Jungkook leaves the warehouse. He gets behind the wheel and drives away. He keeps looking in the rearview mirror. He can't help but think that this meeting is strange. Hyuwon let him go so easily, didn't even insist on a deal.

Jungkook pressed the gas pedal, leaving the warehouse behind. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, giving off a pent-up tension. Hyuwon was too calm. Too confident. And that Japanese guy... Hell, he was sure he'd never had any business with Takeshi Tanaka.

He dialed Jimin again. The rings went on for a long time, until finally the other end of the line answered.

"Oh, kid, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you call." - Jimin immediately apologized.

"Where the hell are you that you didn't hear me calling you?" - Jungkook asked, irritated. "Hey, are you going to kill me over the phone?" - Jimin muttered. His voice was filled with background noise-people's voices, music, laughter. "What happened? Why three missed calls?"

"I needed to know out some information, but I've already did it myself." - Jungkook said seriously. He decided not to talk about the meeting with Hyuwon because Jimin would want to know the details, and he didn't want to say he was in Suwon. When it comes to his parents and you, he hides everything. "Are you at the club?" - Jungkook asks, changing the subject.

"Yeah. At Muse. We decided to relax with Hoby-hyung. We had a crazy day today." - Jimin says, now it's clear why Hoseok hasn't been answering. Jungkook is also having a crazy day. "Where are you, by the way? Don't you want to come over? Let's have a drink. Or are you busy with more important things?" - Jimin asks slyly, hinting that this “important thing” it’s you.

"Yes, I have more important things to do." - Jungkook replies with a smile. "Give me Hoby-hyung, I want to ask him something." - Jungkook asks, but Jimin doesn't listen.

"So you two made up?" - Jimin asks. He's the only person (besides Taehyung) who wanted you and Jungkook to get together. Jimin and Taehyung have long suspected you of having feelings, but you two denied it, and now you've there, told your parents you're dating.

"Yes. Thanks to you, Hyung. I guess I'm forever in your debt." - Jungkook thanked him. Jimin laughs briefly into the phone.

"Not forever, but you will to do whatever I ask you to do. Let's just keep it a wish." - Jimin suggests.

"Deal." - Jungkook agrees without hesitation. He will always be grateful to Jimin for arranging their meeting in that café. "Then put Hoseok on the phone." - Jungkook reminds him. He drove out onto the main street to return home.

"But wait. I'm burning with curiosity. So how did you two start dating? Did you start fucking her, and then you realized you were in love?" - Jimin asks. He makes it sound dumber than it actually was.

"Why do you think that we started fucking before we started dating?" - Jungkook doesn't answer, but asks his own question.

"It was obvious. The way you were with each other. The sexual tension between you was obvious. You tried so hard to hide it, but you couldn't convince Taehyung and me. Besides, I know you were living together." - Jimin replies. His voice sounds like he's smiling. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

"Jimin-hyung, you know you're really annoying, right?" - Jungkook said with a smile on his lips.

"Oh, come on. Just tell me when it happened." - Jimin demands. Jungkook exhales. Still, as much as Jimin is his friend, he will tell the truth if he is so desperate to know.

"After I meeting with you and Taehyung at the restaurant, when we were eating samgyeopsal." - Jungkook says, feeling a little lighter inside, although he tries not to show it.

Jimin on the other end of the phone instantly freezes. He laughs softly, but with obvious pleasure.

"Ooooh, it’s happening that night! You lied to me that nothing happened between you then. But I didn't believe you. Y/N's so cute when she's drunk, I think that's why you couldn't resist that night." - Jimin thinks out loud. Jungkook clutches the steering wheel. He stops at a traffic light and waits.

"She wasn't cute. You just don't know her well. She provoked me that day." - Jungkook tells the truth about your first time. Jimin laughs into the phone.

"Really? She can do that?" - Jimin asks through his laughter. Jungkook smiles too.

"She can do a lot of things." - Jungkook says, and he thinks it sounds polysemous.

"I don't even doubt it. So what's she like? Quiet or loud?" - Jimin continues, his voice sounding fiercely interested. Jungkook feels a surge of irritation. He doesn't want to discuss what it's like to be in bed with you, even if it's Jimin.

"Hey man, are you really that naive to think I'd tell you something like that?" - Jungkook asks.

"I know so much about your sex life. Why can't I know the same about you and Y/N?" - Jimin asks, offended.

"Because it's Y/N. You won't know what she's like in bed because she's my girlfriend." - Jungkook argues. Jimin snorts into the phone.

"Oh my God, can you hear that? Jungkook is really in love with his best friend because he's hiding everything about her." - Jimin sighs softly, still joking.

"Yes, I am head over heels in love with her. That's why I don't like the fact that someone else will know what she's like in bed besides me." - Jungkook says so that the topic can be closed. Jimin realizes this instantly and immediately concedes.

"I'm glad to hear that, buddy. I'm honestly glad you're in love with Y/N. She's perfect for you and you know I've been shipping you for a long time. I'm sorry if I crossed the line." - Jimin apologizes. Jungkook is silent for a while, feeling the tension ease a bit. His heart is still beating fast with emotion, but Jimin's words somehow calm him down.

"Don't worry, I know you were just kidding." - He says, relaxing his shoulders, but still not letting go of the steering wheel. "It's just... I'm not ready to discuss this with anyone, not even you." - Jungkook says, and moves the car out of the way because the light is green. Jimin laughs briefly.

"I see. I was really joking. But don't worry, my friend. I can see that you're happy with Y/N, and that's cool."

Jungkook feels his heart lighten, even though he knows they won't talk about it again.

"She's... she's really important to me. I don't want anyone else to judge her or interfere with what's between us." - Jungkook explains.

"I understand." - Jimin replies with a serious tone, though you can still hear the support in his voice. "You've known who to choose for a long time. And it's Y/N. Keep it up."

Jungkook feels his heart fill with warmth at his friend's words. He hadn't expected such support, but he realizes deep down that Jimin has always been his rock, even if it seems ironic at first glance.

"Thanks, Hyung." - He says quietly. "So, are you going to let me talking with Hoby-hyung?" - Jungkook reminds me what he wanted.

"Yeah, I'll put him on the phone right now. Just give me a moment." - Jimin replies. Jungkook waits until he's almost home. Jungkook hears muffled voices on the other end of the phone. Jimin must be saying something to Hoseok, and Hoseok is answering, but Jungkook can't make out the words. He's almost home. A few seconds later, he hears a familiar voice in the phone.

"Hey, little one. What’s up?" - Hoseok asks, sounding cheerful. Jungkook smiles involuntarily.

"Hi. Hoby-hyung, I have a question for you." - Jungkook says as he parks the car outside the house.

"Okay, but if it’s some difficult, I'm not in the right state to answer questions like that, right now." - Hoseok laughs. Jungkook laughs back.

"It won't be a difficult question." - Jungkook turns off his headlights and looks out at the street, lit by streetlamps. "Did we ever work with someone named Takeshi Tanaka?"

Hoseok is silent, obviously remembering. Jungkook hears him buzzing into the phone and later he hears his voice.

"It's someone from Japan. I can't remember right away. Why? Who is it?" - Hoseok asks.

"He might be connected with the supply of weapons. Rifles, grenades, and stuff like that." - Jungkook explained. Hosok is silent again, but only for a moment.

"Jungkook-ah, I don't remember, but that name sounds familiar. Let me find out more information and let you know. Tomorrow." - He adds quickly. Jungkook sees you coming out of the yard. Jungkook hurries out of the car to come to you.

"I'd appreciate if you knew something about." - Jungkook says. He blocks the car and walks to meet you. You are wrapped in your jacket and watch him as he arrives. Jungkook comes up to you and immediately hugs you. You can't help but smile lightly and rest your head against his chest.

"No problem. So should I wait for you or not?" - Hoseok asks.

"No, Hyung, I'm already home." - Jungkook says half-truthfully, not in a hurry to let go you from embrace. "I'll be waiting for information about this Tanak tomorrow."

"Okay, brother. Get some rest." - Hoseok says, and then adds with a twist in his voice. "Or work hard."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, though you can't see it.

"Have fun, Hyung." - Jungkook says shortly. He ends the call and puts the phone back in his pocket. You lift your head, looking at him with a bit of curiosity.

"Is everything okay?" - You ask quietly. Jungkook runs his fingers through your hair and then touches your chin lightly.

"Yes, my love. I'm fine. Why are you here?" - Jungkook asks, smiling and gently touching your nose with his finger.

"I went out to get some fresh air and then I heard you drive up." - You answer. Jungkook lowers to your face. He presses his lips to yours and enjoys the softness of them.

"Have you been waiting for me?" - He asks, forcing your lips apart. You smile.

"Maybe." - You answer playfully. Something dangerous but tender flashes in Jungkook's eyes. His lips are still burning from your kiss. Jungkook laughs softly, putting his arms around your waist and gently pulling you closer. He kisses you again, unable to get enough of your lips.

"You don't even miss me?" - Jungkook asks, pulling away just a centimeter to look into your eyes.

You bite your lip lightly, but he instantly runs his thumb over it, forcing you to let go.

"Maybe." - You repeat teasingly. Jungkook responds to your mockery with a smile.

"What maybe? You must have meant “yes”" - He says, leaning closer to your ear. His voice is warm, a little husky, and it makes you flinch involuntarily.

"No, I probably meant to say “no”. You were only gone for 30 minutes." - You tease him, hiding your smile. Jungkook tilts his head, looking at you with a sly smile.

"I probably won't believe you." - He whispers and kisses you again, this time slower, deeper, as if he wants to commit this moment to memory. You put your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating faster, even through his jacket.

"Do you want to come in?" - He asks when your lips finally part. "Or do you want to go for a walk?"

You decided a walk. It's a great opportunity to be together and clear your head. It sounds like you both need it.

10 days later.

You were sitting in the kitchen, slowly winding a lock of hair around your finger. On the table was a cup of barely warm tea and a plate with a half-eaten cheese and avocado sandwich. You took another bite, but as soon as the cheese touched your tongue, you instantly twitched. Something was wrong. Jungkook that you were talking to on the phone noticed that you had fallen silent.

"Baby, are you okay?" - He was worried. Wincing, you put the sandwich back on the plate and took a sip of tea to kill the strange aftertaste. But suddenly a strange feeling appeared in your stomach - a heaviness, a slight nausea, like a wave rising from somewhere deep.

"Shit, I don't think the cheese was very fresh..." - You muttered into the phone, putting the food aside.

"Don't eat it." - Jungkook said. "Do you want me to come over and we'll have lunch somewhere?" - Jungkook offers. You are not hungry. Your appetite is gone and your nausea is getting worse, so you take the plate and put it in the fridge so you don't even have to look at the food.

"No, love. I'm not hungry anymore. Don't worry about it. Besides, I have a doctor's appointment at 11 am." - You say. The feeling of unpleasant nausea did not go away. On the contrary, it was getting stronger. You felt a little dizzy. You leaned on the sink, near the fridge.

"A doctor? Ah yes, you said yesterday, that you have planned a visit to the gynecologist!" - Jungkook recalls. "After that you'll have to make an appointment with a therapist to see you. I've been asking you for a week to check your condition. You didn't just feel bad for no reason." - Jungkook says. So since you came back from your parents' house, Jungkook has been telling you to go to the doctor almost every day. He wanted to take you there himself, but you assured him that you felt better after resting for a few days. It was just fatigue, nothing more.

"Okay, I'll make an appointment. But later. When I have time. When are you coming?" - You asked, going to get a cup of tea, which you didn't want to finish either.

"If you don't make an appointment with a doctor this week, I'll tie you and take you there myself, and you won't be able to convince me that you don't need to do it." - Jungkook said seriously, but it made you smile. You laughed into the phone, holding back the terrible nausea and dizziness. Jungkook shouldn’t know that you felt sick again.

"That sounds so threatening." - You said through your laughter. Jungkook exhaled quietly into the phone.

"I'm serious, baby." - His voice was a little softer, but still sounded harsh. "I don't want you to neglect your health."

You dumped the tea into the sink and turned away. With each passing second, the nausea became more intrusive, as if your body was trying to tell you something.

"I know, I know... I just have a lot to do." - You put on a smile, hoping he wouldn't notice it in your voice.

"When I coming? I'll be home early tonight. Around 7 or 8 in the evening." - Jungkook recalls your question. You're happy that Jungkook can come early, because he's been working a lot this past week and arriving late, when you're already asleep.

You called him often and he didn't mind, he always found time to talk to you. You missed Jungkook because you hardly saw him all those days. But you couldn't really rejoice because of this terrible nausea.

"Oh, this is so wonderful. I can't wait for tonight." - She said sincerely. Jungkook chuckled into the phone.

"Me too, my love. I missed you so damn much. I don't know if I'll let you sleep tonight." - He says in a low voice. You purr seductively into the phone.

"Okay, now I'm going to be burning up with anticipation. I've missed you so much too." - You say. Jungkook takes a deep breath and exhales, probably burning with impatience as well.

"As soon as you get out of the doctor's office, text me, okay?" - Jungkook said.

"Okay." - You answered briefly.

"Now go lie down for a while. Don't do anything." - You rolled your eyes.

"I have to go to the doctor." - You say with a slight protest.

"Go, but get an Uber. Don't take buses." - Jungkook orders. You smile.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Controlling Boyfriend." - You joke.

"Well, how could I’m not?" - His smile was almost tangible. "You're mine, and I'm going to take care of you, whether you like it or not."

For some reason, these words caused a warm wave of tenderness in you, which slightly drowned out the unpleasant feeling in your stomach.

"Okay, I'm going to go get dressed. And I'll order a taxi." - You promised.

"Good girl. I love you." - Jungkook confesses.

"I love you too." - You reply with great trepidation. You say goodbye and put the phone on the table.

But as soon as you take a few steps into the bedroom, your stomach twists, and a wave of nausea rushes up your throat so strong that you barely make it to the bathroom.

Standing over the sink, you breathed heavily, trying to collect your thoughts. What was it? Was there really something wrong with that cheese?

Your stomach was empty, but nausea still lingered somewhere in your throat. There was an unpleasant taste in your mouth, and an unexplained feeling inside. But you threw up, and it should be easier soon.

You slowly went to your room and picked out some clothes. You pulled on a warm sweatshirt and high-waisted jeans, and glanced in the mirror, assessing your appearance. Your face seemed pale, your lips a little dry. This sucked.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the phone to call a taxi. Your fingers hovered over the screen when a notification came through.

10:25 AM. Tuesday | Sunbae Ji Sung: Hi Y/N. I'd like to see you. Do you have time?

You raised your eyebrows. Why does he want to see you? You haven't talked to Sunbae since you asked him to get information about the Jungkook’s clan. That was before the new year. So much has happened since then, it's like you've lived a lifetime. Why would he want to meet you all of a sudden? You quickly scribbled down an answer.

10:25 AM. Tuesday | You: Hi. Is it something urgent? I have a doctor's appointment at 11:00. Can we meet later?

The message was read immediately.

10.25 AM. Tuesday | Sunbae Ji Sung: It's urgent, I won't take much time. If you want, I'll take you to the doctor 😇

10.26 AM. Tuesday | You: Okay. We'll have 20 minutes. Drive up to the cafe on Guro-gu called Passionate Croissant.

10:26 AM. Tuesday | Sunbae Ji Sung: I'll be there in 5-7 minutes.

You reply to a message and get dressed. You don't feel great, but your eyes are opening a little bit. By the time you get to the cafe, you should feel even better because you're walking.

You threw your coat over your shoulders, quickly checked the contents of your purse - phone, wallet, documents - and took a deep breath and left the apartment. It was a little chilly outside, but the fresh air helped you to gather yourself. You walked slowly toward the cafe, trying to push away the remnants of your nausea and headache.

When you got inside, the smell of fresh pastries mixed with the aroma of coffee, creating a warm atmosphere. The nausea was slowly disappearing. You sat down at the table by the window and ordered a cup of tea, which you didn't even intend to drink, because you thought you might throw up again.

Sunbae arrived a few minutes after you. He greeted you warmly and even gave you a hug as a sign of old friendship.

"I'm glad to see you. You have become so beautiful." - Sonbe compliments you, but you give him a skeptical look.

"Hey Sunbae, have you lost your eyesight? I saw myself in the mirror today. I look terrible." - You say, making the sonbe laugh.

"If you don't look at your eye bags, you've gotten even prettier in the last few years." - He says almost flirtatiously. You blush.

"Thank you." - You say shyly, touching your hair. Silence falls between you. Tea is brought to you, and Ji Sung orders coffee.

"Love has people's beautifully." - Sunbae say, returning his gaze to you. You look back at him. His expression looks sly.

"What do you mean?" - You ask. Sunbae doesn't answer right away.

"Do you remember our last conversation? You asked me to find you some information on Run Noir?" - You listen to Sunbae carefully, trying to understand what he's saying. "I remember when you said you were worried about your boyfriend, who might be connected to this clan. Why didn't you say it was Jungkook?" - Sunbae finally asks. You freeze for a moment. You feel your heart speed up.

"Does it matter?" - You ask cautiously. You feel the atmosphere at the table change and become tense.

"Well, I guess it does." - He finally answers, still studying you with his penetrating gaze. "He's one of Namjoon's closest associates. You've been friends with him for years, why didn't you tell me you had such influential friends?" - Ji Sung says, almost mockingly. You're annoyed, but you control your emotions.

"I see you've learned a lot about me. I didn't know I had to tell you my whole biography." - You reply, trying to sound indifferent, but in reality, you're feeling all tense inside. Ji Sung leans back, smiling slightly.

"Now I understand why you were looking for information on the entire clan. You wanted to see how much the situation sucked, didn't you? So how do you like your boyfriend's activities?" - Sunbae says unceremoniously. You don't answer him. He leans forward a little, his voice quieter, but no less intense. "You must live well on the money he takes from people."

Your fingers grip the cup so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You feel anger boiling up inside, but you try not to give in to it.

"Don't you dare say that." - You say quietly but firmly.

"Oh, so I hit the nail on?" - Sunbae raises a subtle eyebrow, his smile almost mocking. You stop talking as a waiter approaches the table with coffee for Ji Sung.

"You don't know anything." - You throw back as the waiter leaves. You try to control your emotions as best you can.

"I know more than you think." - He takes a sip of coffee, not taking his eyes off you. "And that's why I'm here."

You sigh, realizing that he's not going to let go. You are disappointed by this behavior of the sunbae. He's just like everyone else, looking for an advantage for himself.

"What do you want?" - You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Remember, my dear, you have a debt to me. And to pay it off, I have a favor to ask of you."

A debt. You'd forgotten that you'd promised him you'd do whatever he asked in exchange for information.

"A request?" - You tilt your head, looking at him warily.

"You're close to Jungkook, so you can help me find out what I need to know." - Sunbae says. You will not find out anything for him.

"What if I refuse?" - You ask. Sunbae stretches his lips into a smile.

"Then your name will be in a place it shouldn't be. And not only yours, but his as well." - He says as if he's telling you what the weather is like outside. Your breath catches in your throat. His casual tone makes you angry.

"Are you threatening me?" - You ask with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm giving you a choice, Y/N. You're a smart girl, you know how to make the right one." - Ji Sung replies and takes another sip of coffee. You press your lips together. Now things have really become even more complicated.

"What do you want me to know?" - You ask, as if you're making a choice in favor of sunbae. But you're not. You're curious about what he wants to know. Ji Sung smiles wider. You hold back your smile.

"Namjoon's clan is involved in the supply of uranium to Korea. Jungkook is one of his trusted men who is in charge for the organization. I need to know what kind of transportation and when the first deliveries will be made." - Sonbae replies. You want to hold back your laughter, but you can't. You laugh openly and almost mockingly. Sunbae raises his eyebrows and clutches the handle of his cup.

"You made me laugh." - You say, touching the assets of your eyes. You're not afraid of Seongbae and his threats, because you know that if you say a word to Jungkook for him, Sunbae will be in trouble. "Sunbae, do you seriously think I'm going to do that? I'm not going to tell on my boyfriend to you. If you want to know any information about him and his activities, please find another source of information." - You get up and want to leave. But he stops you.

"You owe me!" - He says coldly. You freeze near his seat. You turn to look at him. "If you don't want to pay me back, you'll be in trouble."

"One word from me and you'll be in trouble." - Now you're the one making threats. "Sunbae, I'm ready to pay off the debt, but it's this way."

He assesses your reaction, as if he's trying to figure out if you're bluffing or if you're really ready to fight back. Ji Sung sighs, as if he's bored by your heroics.

"Y/N, be realistic. You do realize that this isn't just your boyfriend. He's Jeon Jungkook, Namjoon's right-hand man. And sooner or later you're going to get hurt by him yourself." - He gets up and stands close, which makes you uncomfortable. He leans forward, his eyes full of hidden excitement. "I'm offering you an opportunity to get ahead of the game." - You clench your fists.

"You know nothing about us..." - You say angrily.

"I know more than you think." - He interrupts. "For example, that he's been living with you in your rented apartment for almost a month. And that he would do anything to keep you close. But have you ever thought about what would happen if he stopped being interested in you?" - His words hurt, even though you don't show it. It can't be that way. You love each other, and this man's words are nothing.

"Stop it." - You say coldly. "I'll pay you money for that fucking information which one did you get for me, how much do you want?"

Ji Sung smiles even wider.

"It's not about the money, Y/N. I could just tell you the amount, but that's not what I need. I need information." - Sunbae doesn't give up.

"Then consider that I don't owe you anything." - You say, picking up your bag and turning to leave.

"Think again." - His voice catches up with you at the door. "You have until the end of the week. And then... well, I don't want to scare you, but know that I'm not someone to ignore." - You give him one last angry look and walk out the door in desperation.

You walk out of the cafe, feeling your heart pounding furiously in your chest. Ji-sung is playing a dangerous game, but you're not one to give up easily, either.

You lie down on the chair, trying to calm yourself down as the doctor examines you carefully. The meeting with the sunbae, which had been so unexpected, had turned into something really horrible. He wanted to use you to get information. What kind of information? Jungkook is involved in the uranium supply. While you were in the taxi to the hospital, you read something about uranium and what it's used for. It's dangerous and very bad.

Is it suspicious why he wanted to know this information? He definitely wanted to know it for someone. Because he specifically indicated that he wanted to know how much and through what means the supply would go. Sonbe gave you until the end of the week. What should you do? Tell Jungkook?

It's only everything was fine, there was no word about Doohoon, but now this Ji Sung showed up and demanded from you to get information your boyfriend. That crazy.

Your body felt tired, and you could barely keep still as the doctor pressed her cold fingers on your stomach, listening intently.

"Are you in any pain?" - The woman asked in a calm voice, bringing you out of your thoughts.

"No." - You answered briefly. The doctor just nodded, finishing her examination. She sat down at the table, asking you to get dressed and sit next to her. She was checking something in her notes with a computer mouse. You got dressed and sat on the table opposite her.

"Y/N, do you have a register care with us hospital?" - The doctor asked, looking up from the monitor.

"Register? What register care?" - You didn't understand, looking up in surprise.

"The register for prenatal care. You're about three weeks along. But I don't see any records about you in our database." - Says the doctor. You freeze. You think you heard something. It seemed like you were about to lose your balance, even though you were sitting in the chair.

"What...?" - Your voice was weak, barely audible. Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest. "By all indications, you're in early pregnancy, so if you haven't registered yet, I'd advise you to do so as soon as possible." - The doctor explained calmly. You couldn't move. You just blinked your eyes, feeling as if your consciousness was separating from reality. But how? You had been taking anti-inflammatory drugs and in some cases emergency contraception every time you didn't take your medication. How could this happen?

You are carrying Jungkook's child?

This discovery hit you with a powerful wave of shock. You didn't even know what to feel: fear, panic, or something else that didn't fit in your head.

You are pregnant. How do you tell Jungkook? What will happen now?

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