#mafia!san

[armpirate]

Until You're Mine || Choi San | Ch. 1

MASTERLIST Next

Pairings: Mafia!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, obsession, mafia love

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, explicit language, mention of drug and guns, violence, rough sex.

Summary: San, a notorious and feared mafia boss, has always lived in the shadows of power and violence. When an ambush leaves him wounded and on the run, he finds refuge in an empty event hall. Inside, Y/n, a rising star in the world of event planning, is nursing her own wounds -a career on the line after a confrontation with a powerful client. The last thing she expects is for her night to take a dark turn when San stumbles into her life, bloodied and dangerous.

Despite the fear and uncertainty, Y/n can't turn away. She helps him clean up, binding more than just his wounds in the process. What begins as an intense, chance encounter spirals into a dangerous obsession. San, used to being the hunter, becomes fixated on the one woman who dared to help him, even in his darkest moment. Meanwhile, Y/n, caught in the mystery of that powerful man, finds herself tracking his every move, unable to shake the dangerous allure of his world.

Neither knows that their fascination with each other is mutual. In a city teeming with danger, power, and deceit, their secret obsessions will pull them deeper into a deadly game -one where love, power, and obsession intertwine, and nothing is as it seems.

Chapter duration: 20 minutes

Chapter warnings: Violence, shooting, mentions of blood and drugs

The night had gone according to plan: the cabs were on time, the guests started arriving -with a significant amount of people showing up for the event-, the cloudy sky only showed its black tone with some shining starts standing out -at least, what the city of Detroit allowed-, which meant the cocktail would be held on the outside as planned.

Everything was going according to plan… until it didn't.

Y/n's fingers trailed absently over the clipboard, eyes scanning the banquet hall for any last-minute hiccups. The small awards ceremony had flowed as smoothly as she'd envisioned -perfectly timed speeches, lights dimming at all the right moments, and not a single technical glitch. The guests were enjoying the short colloquiums, the awards were safe and taken well care of before handing them to their owners.

She had everything under control… until the cocktail hour came.

The shift to the cocktail reception felt like a descent into chaos.

Y/n's gaze darted to the far end of the adjacent room, where a tall, chubby woman -one of the night's winners- was animatedly arguing with a waiter. A simple mix-up over her drink order had somehow spiraled out of control. The brunette was waving her arms, her voice rising over the soft chatter of the crowd, her complaints turning heads. Y/n felt the knot tighten in her stomach as she hurried over, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

Those situations always made her nervous, but it wasn't something she hadn't seen before or something she wasn't able to find a solution to.

—Look at what you've done —the woman snapped, her frustration palpable—. Do you have an idea of how much this dress costs?

It was a trivial mistake, one that could have been handled discreetly, but that ended up having the attention of half the room.

—I'm sorry, miss. I'm sure it was an accident, she was trying to get through… —Y/n said in her calmest voice, attempting to calm down the situation— Let me help you clean you up.

—Are you blaming me now?

—No, no —she quickly shook her head—. I meant that she didn't do it on purpose, these things happen. There's a trick to clean wine up.

—I don't need your boorish tricks —the woman pushed her away before Y/n could even attempt to help her—. Shit, this dress cost eight hundred dollars. Are you going to pay for it?

Y/n's body tensed after hearing the price. That woman paid for her dress the same amount Y/n paid for her rent, which she thought was expensive just a few hours back, while discussing with one of the hostesses back in the hall.

That woman was making a big fuss, when she knew s\well he had no problem buying another one if she wanted to. Hell, she probably had that same dress in different colors back home.

—Miss, again, the waitress was trying to get through, but you were in the middle of the way. I'm afraid the company can't pay for the dress, but…

—Not only do you ruin my dress, but also call me fat?

—What? No, of course not. I never meant it that way.

Y/n was trying everything in her hand to calm the woman down and keep her from making a scene, but it was too late. All eyes were already on them as Celia Curry kept ranting about her dress, ignoring all her attempts on making damage control. Some guests whispered behind their hands, and others simply watched, relishing the drama of someone else's accident.

The situation kept scalating out of her control, feeling like every word she said only helped to make things worse.

It didn't take long for Y/n's boss, Darnell, to appear beside her, his towering frame and stern expression making her stomach clench.

Darnell was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his tone carried weight. His skin was as dark as the fitted suit he wore, his eyes sharp behind his glasses as he fixed her with a disapproving look, before he took control of the situation that she wasn't able to, moving away with the problematic lady.

Eventually, the situation was handled, but the damage was done. The smooth control Y/n had so carefully maintained all night was shattered.

Darnell was chatting with the few guests left, while the only people left were those working for the catering company -and who were picking up all the tables spread all over the room-, and the three hostesses that were chatting between them.

She hoped that conversation would last forever, because she knew what would come next for her wouldn't be good news.

—Y/n —he said, his voice serious—, you need to handle situations like that better. You're supposed to put out the fire, not to make it worse.

Her stomach twisted. She was convinced it wasn't that bad, but she guessed wrong.

—I know what you're trying to say, but she only calmed down because it was you who spoke to her —she tried to explain.

—I have to pay eight hundred dollars of my own money, just so she'd stop making a scene. You've been working in the industry for long enough to know that it's always better to just nod and let them rant than say something else that could get us in trouble.

—It was an accident. The waitress didn't want to ruin her dress. What did she expect us to do? To call out someone who was doing her job? It was her fault for being on the way…

—I don't want excuses —he cut her off, his tone sharp—. Celia was going to hire us for one of the parties she hosts, and we almost lost that opportunity because you still don't know what are the right words to say in situations like these. I won't let it pass another time.

With that, he walked away, leaving her standing alone in the now quiet venue, her confidence shaken.

Y/n stayed behind, even when everyone that formed the staff left, needing the time to process and, more than anything, catch her breath.

The venue was eerily quiet now, the earlier noise replaced with the echo of distant footsteps and the soft hum of the lights. She glanced at the bar, where leftover glasses and discarded napkins remained.

She sighed, sinking into one of the chairs in the now-empty hall. It was supposed to have been her night. A flawless event to prove she could handle anything. Instead, she was left picking up the pieces of a mistake that never should have happened.

Alone with her thoughts, Y/n's mind wandered. Little did she know, her night was just getting started.

San stood at the edge of the abandoned ceramics establishment that once belonged to his family, the dim light from a single hanging bulb casting long shadows across the concrete floor. The air was thick with tension, and the scent of dust and humidity filled the room. It was a place where deals were made in silence and sealed with blood.

That night was supposed to be no different.

He had chosen that place himself -an isolated part of the docks, far from prying eyes and the ears of law enforcement. No one in that part of the city spoke about what they saw, even less if he was involved.

His black suit clung to his form with a precision that matched his meticulous nature. Everything was always under control.

Behind him stood Mingi and Jongho, his most trusted men. Mingi's height alone made him intimidating, his broad shoulders like steel doors guarding a vault. Jongho, quieter but lethal, had eyes that missed nothing. The two were formidable, their presence an unspoken warning: Do not cross us.

San's gaze was fixed on the men standing opposite him. Four of them, each dressed in leather jackets and cheap denim, their eyes darting nervously between him and his men. They had the look of street thugs -greedy, reckless, but not entirely stupid. Their leader, a man named Lucas, had swaggered in as if he owned the place, a false confidence that grated on San's nerves.

It had been an important deal, one San had personally overseen. This wasn't just another routine drug exchange; it was one that could tighten his grip on the city's underworld, push his operations to new heights. But from the moment the other group had walked in, San had sensed something was off.

The bags of money and drugs were in place, stacked neatly on a table in the center of the room. The terms were clear: a large shipment of high-grade product for an equally large sum of cash. But the other men -they were stalling.

San narrowed his eyes, his fingers lightly tapping the handle of the gun hidden beneath his jacket. He didn't like delays, and he liked hesitation even less.

—What's up, Lucas —San's voice was calm, but it carried an edge that made people pause.

He didn't need to shout to be threatening. Power, he had learned long ago, was in restraint. When you had it, you didn't need to flaunt it.

Lucas glanced at his men, shifting on his feet. His cocky demeanor faltered.

—We just… we need to make sure the product's pure, you know? No offense, San.

San's jaw clenched. He didn't like repeating himself. The product had already been tested, vetted, and verified. These kinds of second guesses were a slap in the face, especially after the reputation he had built. But Lucas' behavior wasn't just about caution. It was something more.

—You're wasting my time —San said, stepping forward. His voice dropped lower, a dangerous warning—. It was already tested. Are you implying I'm trying to fool you?

—It's not about trust, but I guess you already know that.

Lucas fumbled, gesturing to one of his men to check the drugs despite the first rejection, but San's focus wasn't on the drugs anymore. It was in their hands. Fidgeting. Twitching. Lucas' right hand, tapping rhythmically against his thigh. The unmistakable sign of a man on edge -one waiting for something.

It clicked in San's mind: This isn't just nerves. They're uneasy for a reason.

His instincts, honed by years in the streets, screamed danger. Without a word, San's eyes flicked to Mingi and Jongho. The two moved imperceptibly, hands ready on their weapons, their muscles coiled like springs, waiting for his signal.

—There's the money —Lucas insisted, his voice cracking slightly as he pulled a gun from his waistband, waving it casually like a prop.

A bad attempt to look tougher than he was, while trying to distract the man in front of him.

San didn't flinch. He never did.

—Test the fucking coke —he said coolly, nodding toward the product—. Do the job you came for. Unlike you, I know you don't have the balls to trick me.

Lucas hesitated. His men shifted, their gazes bouncing between each other. It was a subtle tell, but enough for San to know what was coming.

They've already decided.

San's eyes hardened. His blood surged with the cold realization. He didn't wait for the first move -he made it.

In one fluid motion, San drew his gun, his aim deadly accurate as he fired at Lucas' man who reached for the drugs. The shot rang out, the deafening crack of the gun a declaration of war. The man crumpled to the floor before he could draw his own weapon.

Gunfire erupted from all sides. Lucas' crew had been waiting for that -ready to steal both the drugs and the money. Bullets ricocheted off the metal beams, and the sound of shattering glass filled the room as chaos took over.

San moved with precision, his body a blur as he fired off two more shots, dropping another of Lucas' men. But in the frenzy, Lucas and the remaining two scrambled for the table, grabbing the bags and making a break for the exit.

Blood pulsed from a sudden, sharp pain in San's side. He looked down, seeing the dark stain spreading across his shirt. He'd been hit.

He stumbled backward, bracing himself against a pillar. His vision blurred for a second, but he forced himself to stay standing. He could hear Mingi and Jongho taking down more of the traitors, but it wasn't enough. Lucas had slipped through their fingers, dragging the stolen goods with him.

—Boss! —Jongho was beside him in an instant, eyes wide with concern—. You're hit!

San waved him off, anger fueling him more than the pain.

—Go after them. Now.

—We can't leave you here —Mingi insisted.

—I said go! —San's voice was steel, leaving no room for argument.

He wasn't going to bleed out there while his enemies walked free with what was his. He could still feel Lucas' smirk in the air, and that thought alone sent a fresh surge of fury through him.

Mingi and Jongho hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. They bolted after the escaping men, their footsteps echoing as they disappeared into the night.

San stood alone in the now-silent establishment, breathing heavily, his hand pressed hard against the wound. He could feel the warm blood spilling out between his fingers. Soon the police sirens reached his ear, making him curse in between her teeth, before he chose to escape through the back door.

He needed to get out, find somewhere safe, but the pain made each step harder.

Dragging himself through the alleys, he pushed forward, determined to stay conscious. After what felt like an eternity, the dim glow of a nearby venue caught his eye. He didn't know what it was -a bar, a club- but the lights were still on. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere he could stop the bleeding, and somewhere where he wouldn't be found, because the police wouldn't look for him there.

Without another option, he stumbled toward the door, pushing it open with what little strength he had left.

And that was when he saw her.

Y/n jumped, startled by the sudden crash of the door slamming against the wall. A man stumbled inside, his tall figure nearly crumpling as he lurched forward. She froze, her breath catching in her throat, eyes widening in shock.

He wore a gray suit, or what was left of it. The jacket was torn, stained with something dark -blood. A long, black coat hung loosely from his broad shoulders, but his sharp features were marred by the ghostly pale complexion of someone who had lost too much blood.

His dark, almond-shaped eyes scanned the room, his lips pressed into a tight line of pain. The man was hurt, badly.

Too much blood.

Her hands trembled as she shot to her feet. Instinct screamed at her to help, but fear paralyzed her for a moment. Her mind raced, panicked, as she saw the crimson seeping through the fabric of his suit, the gaping hole in his side.

—Oh god —she breathed, stepping back, her eyes glued to the growing red stain.

The man's knees buckled, and he stumbled forward, grabbing onto a nearby table for support. His gaze locked onto hers, sharp despite the pain.

—Help me —he rasped, his voice deep and commanding, a raw edge to it.

Her first instinct was to reach for her phone, call an ambulance so he'd get the help he needed, but he stopped her before she could get her purse.

—Don't call anyone.

—What? —Y/n blinked, not fully understanding— But you're bleeding…

—I said don't call anyone —he repeated, this time stronger, more forceful.

His words cut through her panic, grounding her. His eyes, dark and unreadable, pinned her in place. It wasn't a request; it was an order.

—Please… —his tone softened, just slightly, almost pleading, but the command remained. He leaned harder against the table, fighting to stay upright.

Y/n swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She moved toward him cautiously, instinct taking over despite the fear gnawing at her insides. He was a stranger -dangerous-looking, clearly involved in something violent- but something in his voice, his gaze, pulled her closer. She couldn't just leave him there.

—I… I don't know what to do —she stammered, glancing at the blood soaking his side. Her mind screamed at her to run, to call for help, but instead, her hands hovered over his coat—. You need a doctor.

—No doctor. So I guess the only thing I need right now is you.

—But… —Y/n hesitated, eyes wide.

His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist with surprising strength, making her gasp. His fingers were cold, but his grip was firm, insistent.

—Check my back —he ordered, his voice rough but steady—. Is there a hole?

Her stomach turned at the request, but she nodded, swallowing back the lump in her throat as she slowly stepped behind him. Her trembling fingers lifted the edge of his black coat, revealing more blood. It was everywhere. She winced as she saw the tear in the back of his suit -another bullet wound.

Oh God, there's another one.

Her knees nearly buckled at the sight of it, her breath catching in her throat.

—There's… there's another wound —she whispered, panic rising in her voice.

—Good. That'll make it easy —he mumbled—. Just… clean it. Stop the bleeding —he ordered again, his voice hoarse but laced with the same cold authority.

Y/n nodded, her movements stiff and robotic as she grabbed a towel from one of the tables. She didn't know what else to do -there was no medical kit, no real supplies to help someone who had been shot. But San moved first, clenching his jaw to omit a whine when he attempted to take off his shirt. She could hear the tremor in her own breathing as she pressed the towel to his back, feeling the warmth of his blood soak through the fabric.

He winced but said nothing, his jaw clenched as he leaned against the table, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

—You're losing too much blood —she whispered, pressing harder to stem the flow—. I don't think I can…

—You can —he interrupted, his voice low but firm—. I'll tell you what to do. Just… focus.

Y/n bit her lip, forcing herself to breathe, to calm down. She could feel the weight of his eyes on her under his wet bangs, even as she worked to stop the bleeding. He was staring at her -his expression unreadable but intense, almost like he was sizing her up, gauging her resolve.

—Who are you? —she asked quietly, glancing up at him through her lashes as she pressed the towel harder against his back— What happened?

He didn't answer. Instead, his eyes darkened, his face tightening with pain as he leaned more heavily against the table.

—That's not important right now.

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling the gravity of the situation sink deeper into her bones. That man, whoever he was, wasn't just hurt. He was dangerous. The way he commanded her, the way he dismissed his injuries, like this was just another day -it wasn't normal.

And yet, there was something about him, something magnetic, that kept her rooted in place. Even through the fear and confusion, she couldn't look away.

—Please —he said again, softer this time. His voice cut through her racing thoughts like a blade—. Help me.

Y/n pressed the towel harder against his back, her hands shaking as she tried to stop the bleeding. The man's breathing had become shallower, each breath coming in ragged, painful bursts, but he still didn't let up. He gave her instructions with a calm authority that unnerved her.

—Press harder —San murmured, his deep voice steady, though strained with pain. His dark eyes flicked between the wound and her face—. You're doing fine.

—I doubt you're doing fine though —she swallowed back the panic clawing at her throat, focusing on his words. Her fingers trembled as she tore strips from the tablecloth, fashioning them into makeshift bandages—. I'm not a doctor—. she whispered, her voice shaky—. I don't know if this is enough.

—It's enough —he said with a certainty that silenced any protest.

His hand rested against the table, steadying himself, while his gaze lingered on her face. His sharp eyes softened just for a moment as he noticed her red, puffy eyes -evidence of the tears she'd been shedding before he barged in.

San's brow furrowed slightly, an unfamiliar feeling rising in his chest. He wasn't used to caring about anyone else's emotions, let alone a stranger's.

—You were crying —he said, the statement coming out more like an observation than a question.

Y/n froze, blinking rapidly. She hadn't expected him to notice -he was the one bleeding out in front of her, after all.

—I… it's nothing. Just a bad day.

—A bad day? —his voice held a hint of something she couldn't quite place… curiosity? Amusement? His gaze darkened as he watched her work, her delicate fingers moving swiftly despite the fear in her eyes.

He was used to seeing fear. He'd seen it in countless faces before, but it was different. Her fear wasn't for him -it was for herself, for something else entirely, like she was scared of hurting him more.

—What kind of bad day makes someone cry alone in an empty venue?

Y/n bit her lip, trying to suppress the tears threatening to return. This wasn't the time to break down again. Not in front of him.

—Work —she muttered—. It's… complicated.

His eyes narrowed as if weighing whether to push further, but then a wave of pain hit him, and he gritted his teeth, letting out a low groan.

Y/n's heart pounded as she moved in front of him, her hands trembling as she pressed the makeshift bandages against the wound in his side. She could feel the heat of his body when directly touching his torso, and the smell of blood lingered in the air.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and for a moment, everything seemed to still.

His gaze was locked on hers, unblinking, as if he could see straight through her. Those dark, intense eyes sent a shiver down her spine, and she found herself unable to look away.

—Thank you —he murmured, his voice softer now, almost intimate.

He reached up, his fingers brushing lightly against her wrist. The touch was subtle, yet it sent a surge of warmth up her arm, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

—You didn't have to help me.

She blinked, her pulse racing. Why does his touch feel like this?, she thought. She couldn't understand why that stranger -that dangerous, bleeding man- was making her feel so vulnerable, so exposed.

—It's not like I had a choice —she whispered, though she wasn't sure if that was entirely true.

She could have run, called for help, but something about him -something about the way he looked at her- had kept her there, as if she were drawn to him by an invisible force.

San's fingers lingered on her wrist for a second longer before he pulled away, his eyes still locked on hers. The tension between them thickened, and she could feel the air grow heavier. She had saved his life, but in doing so, she had become entangled in something much larger than herself.

—Your name —he said suddenly, his voice a low rasp—. What's your name?

Y/n hesitated for a split second, then answered softly:

—Y/n.

—Y/n… —he rolled her name over his tongue, as if tasting it, memorizing it. It sent a strange thrill through her, one she couldn't explain.

He took a deep breath, wincing slightly from the pain, but his gaze never left hers.

—I won't forget it —and he was so damn sure he meant it—. It's a beautiful name.

Something about the way he said it made her heart skip a beat. She wasn't sure if it was a promise or a warning, but she could feel it -a connection, sharp and undeniable, forming between them in that moment. The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them in the dimly lit room.

Then, without warning, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered.

—I owe you one.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing as his words sent a shiver down her spine. His closeness, the heat of his body, the intensity of his gaze -it was all overwhelming. She should have felt afraid, but instead, she felt something else entirely.

Before she could respond, his hand gently cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. His touch was both gentle and possessive, as if he were claiming a piece of her in that moment.

—Don't cry for them —he murmured, his voice low and dangerous—. They don't deserve your tears.

Her breath hitched, and before she could process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers. The kiss was brief, just a brush of warmth, but it ignited something deep inside her. A spark. A hunger she hadn't known existed.

When he pulled back, their eyes locked, both of them breathing heavily. In that moment, Y/n knew that she was no longer just a bystander in his world -she was a part of it now.

San's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, as if memorizing every detail of her face. Then, with a grunt of pain, he straightened up, his movements slow and deliberate. He adjusted his coat, his hand pressing against the wound one last time.

—I'll find you —he said quietly, his voice full of an unspoken promise. And with that, he turned and walked toward the door, leaving her standing there, her heart pounding in her chest.

She had been so lost in his aura, that she hadn't been aware of the car parked outside, and that San had called while she was in the bathroom making the napkins wet.

As the door closed behind him, Y/n stood frozen, her fingers brushing her lips where his had been. She should have been terrified, but all she could think about was the way he had looked at her -the intensity in his eyes, the way his touch had made her feel alive.

She didn't know his name. She didn't know what kind of danger he had just brought into her life. But one thing was certain:

She needed to see him again.

[fairilia]

Unlikely Allies ⛓️🌃

Pairing: Mafia!San x fem!reader

Genre: Mafia AU, enemies to lovers, angst, romance

Warning: fem bodied reader, swearing, light smut in future chapters so mdni

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Will she unravel his secrets, or will the allure of his world consume her?

Chapter 1

Chapter 11

Chapter 111

⤷ San’s perspective

Chapter 1V

.⛧. Teaser :〃➜

In the labyrinthine world of organized crime, Y/N embarks on her most perilous assignment yet infiltrate the enigmatic empire of San, a notorious mafia boss whose presence commands both fear and fascination. As she meets his piercing gaze for the first time in a dimly lit nightclub, a dangerous game of deception and intrigue unfolds, where every move could lead to discovery or doom. Caught between duty and desire, Y/N must navigate the treacherous waters of loyalty and betrayal, unsure if she's the predator or the prey in San's intricate web of power and secrets.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

(っ'-')╮=͟͟͞͞💌 NOTE;

hello! This is my first fanfic series, please like/reblogged if you’d like to read the chapter 1 which will be posted tomorrow! Hope everyone will enjoy this.

[fandombandomfics]

Mafia!San (Ateez Mafia AU)

[couchpotatoaniki]

One Year ❣︎ Eleven: Friends Are There Through Thick And Thin

Chapter summary: You hear San out, which leads to an unexpectedly difficult talk for the both of you. Things are shifting, and neither of you don’t know what to do.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Series Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of ptsd, anxiety, hints to sleep paralysis, Word count: 5.1k+ A 365 Days parody

A/N: I’m back from my hiatus and my god I missed this so much 😭😭 this chapter’s a bit angsty but the next one will make up for it, I promise.

Previous: Chapter Ten

For the rest of the series, click here

Speech and bracketed speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech and bracketed speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

“The first time I met the Jeong family was shortly after Ma died,” San began, in a low relaxed tone as if he was talking about what he had for lunch yesterday. “I was quite young, but my father was grief-stricken and I stepped up to support him. He didn’t want me to but he wasn’t as strong as he used to be in arguments with me after her passing, so he just let me learn the trades of our business.”

He chuckled darkly, rubbing the tip of his thumb along the soft plush of his lower lip. “Should’ve listened to him,” he admitted with a hint of regret in his voice and a darkness in his eye you recognised from your own reflection. “Should’ve stayed a kid a little bit longer like Ma wanted me to and not want to be the hero that could fix everything like she seemed to do.”

His deep gaze bore into you for a few beats until he spoke once more. “The first time I met the Jeong family, the patriarch was beating the ever living shit out of his own son.”

You tried your best not to freeze, and although you knew of the treatment Yunho had endured there, it certainly felt a whole lot different hearing it from someone else. Hearing it from San.

He noticed your shift and gently grasped your hand over the table, running his thumb soothingly against your knuckles to try and ease the horror he could feel building inside you.

“My dad,” he resumed in that detached tone again, “had grown up with a horrible mother and an even worse father. When he met Ma, he was still a bit of a...’fixer upper’. But he changed. Said he wanted to give himself a reason for her to be proud of loving him, a reason she would want to call him her husband when the time came for him to propose--and most importantly, he was just so tired of hating his own soul. Wanted to love it as much as she did.”

A soft, intimate smile played against his lips for a brief moment. “Once, she told me that loving him came as easy as breathing.” His eyes flickered to yours, so much weight behind them, and his hand that held yours seared with a heat you couldn’t find yourself to pull away from.

“By the time they had me, they were very clear on what morals I was to have. And neither of them stopped drilling it into me until their dying breath.” San chuckled humourlessly. “Sometimes I still hear their ghosts whisper it into my ears, in the gentle way they spoke.”

His eyes closed as he recounted one of the last things he ever heard his father say all the way back in Santorini five years ago. “(We too have morals. There are some lines we must never cross.) One of them was that family and friends were sacred. You can’t hurt them. Can’t fix them through pain.” 

You do your best not to think of Isaac but his face flashes for the briefest of moments in your mind and you hate yourself all the more for it.

His eyes shut more tightly as if trying to stop seeing the memory once more, a shuddering breath released from his lungs. “I’ve seen and done some horrible shit, Y/N, but what I saw that day? Fucking hell. No child should ever have to suffer that much, never mind at the hands of one of the few people in this cruel world that was supposed to protect him.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as memories resurfaced for you too--of Yunho and his breakdowns, of the scars that littered every inch of his torso, of the slight limp in his left leg and occasional shoulder pain from broken bones that never managed to set quite right. Memories of that sweet, sweet boy made of sunshine and smiles consumed in nightmarish slumber, still trying to fight off the ghosts of his past that felt all too real to him. Frozen. Unable to move. Unable to protect himself.

San may have seen part of the actual abuse Yunho had to endure, but Y/N had to witness for the past five years how he tried so damn hard to not slip back down, even if it sometimes oozed out of the cracks in the walls he built. And Seonghwa? Jesus, Seonghwa was the one who who truly saw it all--how it almost broke Yunho, how he almost broke himself to try to get away from his own mind.

Guilt resurfaced as a heavy knot in your throat, imagining Yunho starting to slip back again. There were triggers but he’d worked well to cope in a healthy way, they all supported him in managing his responses, in helping him re-associate some of those triggers with better, nicer things. But being this close again? God, you should really go back home, end all of this.

But you need to do this. Yunho needs you to do this much at least.

“Y/N,” San coaxes you away from your thoughts, and if he noticed that you disappeared for a few moment, he did not mention it. “I care for you. More than any person on this earth. Would travel through the nine circles of hell and back to protect you. You know that right?”

Strangely, you did. From the reverent way he looks at you, holds your hand, speaks to you. Faking something like that must have needed intervention from some higher being. Without another thought, you nod.

“Good. So you know that I want to keep you far away from things that may harm you. I’m already a dangerous person with many enemies but the Jeong family have a darkness I couldn’t bare to have you near.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, San,” you whisper, voice feeling fragile in such a raw moment. “Got plenty of darkness in me already.”

He looks at you with this sad sort of smile. “I know. Wanna kiss you for being so strong and scorch the world for not stopping itself from hurting you.” He brings the hand still in his own up to his lips, letting it brush along the slightly rough skin in the barest of kisses as if content with feeling the warmth of your soul through your very fingertips. “I’ve been around enough sorrow to know when there is still goodness in something and you have so much goodness in you despite what you’ve been through.”

He pauses.

“Maybe one day you’ll find enough comfort with me to confide in it all. But until then, let me shield you from the unnecessary pain.”

You don’t remember how much time passes as the words seep into your very heart and bones and soul. While the very concept of being cared for and shouldering the burden you carry has always been an unspoken rule between your family and even more so the boys, you’ve never had someone say that to you and it feels almost overwhelming to hear it. As if your brain is having a hard time processing the fact that here is someone on this godforsaken earth who cares for you as deeply as San does and would want to stay by you side in spite of all of that.

In spite of the damage to your soul and pieces missing from your heart.

Even while you were with Dominic, there was a side of you that you felt was unworthy of being seen--shameful even--though it wasn’t you fault. You still had to keep guards up sometimes even with Mingi, and in this very room where the outside world with every messy thing that came with it was just noise far down below, you started to feel the toll it took on you. The energy is sucked out of you, the weight of keeping it up all the time.

Suddenly, confiding in Choi San didn’t seem like a bad idea at all.

But then you remembered that some of the bricks that made up that wall you held up against him weren’t yours to share with him.

“There’s...” Tongue flickering out to lick your lips, you’re unsure of how to phrase this in a way that won’t divulge in too much information, “I just...” You take a deep breath to calm your nerves. God, why was your heart racing that fast?

San could tell the conundrum you were going through. Went through the same after all, with how much he could divulge you with for he too had walls built up and for good reason.

He took the initiative. “You asked about Jeong Yunho specifically... why?”

“I wanted to know what you knew about him.” But neither of you mentioned how from the crumbs San gave you, both of you knew that Yunho was the boy he was talking about. Stiffening the air like dust in an abandoned house.

“Why?” he repeated.

Your mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Damn it, you were good at this. Good at coming up with shit on the spot--why isn’t your brain working right now? Why do you want to tell him the truth? That truce between you two is starting to shrivel up, walls pushing back up again--

“Remember, Y/N, I can’t give you an answer if you don’t give me a good enough reason in return.” San’s last plea to get you to open up so he could do the same.

You pull your hands from his grasp to run through your hair, and the walls start to go up even higher the both of you can feel it.

Blowing a frustrated breath out you get up from your seat, turn your back to him as you make your way to your nightstand.

The man lets his face crumble as his heart drops in his stomach all the while he watches you walk away from him both physically and mentally. He leans back into the chair, feeling--for the first time in a long time--defeated.

He sees you grab the glass of water on your nightstand and finish the whole thing in a few big gulps. He wants to tell you to be careful, that you’ll choke, but his voice is caught in his tight throat unable to come out.

Setting the glass back down, you take a moment before you turn back to him. There’s something in your eyes that tells him, maybe your wall isn’t fully up yet. There’s some cracks. And then you ask him, in a soft voice, “stay with me the night?” You try to regain some playfulness by narrowing your eyes in a mock glare. “No funny business.”

He musters up as much of a smile as he can at the moment--it’s weak and tired, but there’s the remnants of that brief truce there. He doesn’t speak and neither do you as he walks to the opposite side of the bed and crawls in with you.

You both lie on your backs, you looking up at the ceiling while he looks at you. Making no move to touch you, not even move closer to you.

You close your eyes, letting him gaze at you with those curiously sad eyes of his. So attuned to his breathing, you can tell even when a lot of time--or a little, you can’t tell as the concept doesn’t seem to exist in this room right now, but it feels like a lot--he still hasn’t fallen asleep yet. His thoughts are loud but not loud enough for you to hear them.

He feels the same way about you. Knows that you’re awake, mind running with thoughts that escape him and damn it fucking hurts to be this shut out from you.

You want to speak the words--any words to him or at least intertwine one of your fingers with his. To show some semblance that things have changed, that you have not shut him out completely like he might think.

But at one point, you lose the mental battle and fall into a dreamless sleep.

When you wake, San is nowhere to be found. You’re curled up facing where he would be and feel around to notice that the spot is cold and that side of the bed is made. He’s been gone for a while, you confirm once you notice the time on your phone, because it is almost one in the afternoon and he must have had business to attend to.

That didn’t stop the faint pang inside you at his sudden absence after last night.

Groaning, you roll you body up, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes while you think how could things change so much for you in such a short space of time since you met San.

His crazy seems to be rubbing off on you, since you feel some kind of attachment to him? Or at least, you feel a little more empty when he is not there. Jesus, at this rate, you might actually want to stay with him by the end of the year.

You find that thought terrifying, though not as all-consuming as you expected it to feel. Like the kind of terror that came with standing at the edge of a cliff that you can just as easily back away from into the safety of land rather than stare at the rough dark waters crashing on jagged rocks below.

You have been through enough shit to know when you really need to talk to someone about how you’re feeling. And right now you need to talk to someone.

Run through the talking points in your head as you freshen up in the bathroom, already knowing that today feels like a pyjama day. You feel sick just thinking about the idea of talking about your feelings, that familiar sense of dread curdling in your stomach. So you don’t leave the confines of your bedroom for a late breakfast--you can barely think of stomaching the smell of breakfast.

Cold sweats lace your palms as you click on Mingi’s contact on your phone, practice some level breathing as ringing presses against your ear. It doesn’t take long for you to hear his voice.

“Hey, wassup?”

“Hey,” you try to say confidently but it comes out as a strangled whisper from the funny feeling in your throat.

A pause, and then, “What happened?”

The instinctive answer comes out despite all the mental preparation. “Nothing.”

“Y/N, what happened?”

“Nothing...”

He sighs, “The last time you answered the phone like this and I played along, you were in a horrible situation. I’m not making that mistake again. Now tell me, what happened?”

You don’t know why but hot fat tears spill from your eyes in quick succession against your will. Silent as they come, you know he can tell. He was always able to. “Mingi, I don’t know what to do,” you whisper as it all comes crashing down on you.

“It’s been weeks since everything’s happened and I don’t know why but it’s all come crashing down and I just don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, that okay,” he coaches, “Just grab onto the closest threat. Start from there. Bit by bit.”

“I just,” you try to take deep breaths and make a clumsy attempt to explain the pent up emotions, “it’s so stupid but it only really just hit me how much Dominic hurt, you know? I didn’t love him but I did like him and just... being treated like that, like I’m nothing of worth fucking hurt. It was the first time I was with someone since...him and it ended up hurting me again and I swore I would never let my heart get hurt again and...and--”

You pause. Breathe.

“And then there’s what I’m putting Yunho through simply by being here with San, all because I wanted to escape my problems and feelings again. I can barely even do my job right because I can’t get a straight answer out of him--or any of the others because they’re tight-knit and won’t betray San like that even if it is to shit-talk his ex.”

Not even Wooyoung, who you seemed to have the most rapport with out of the three boys. You tried getting information out of them over the few days San was avoiding you (and admittedly you, him) from the initial bathroom confrontation, but each of them were tight-lipped and you knew without them having to say that San told them to remain that way about the subject.

More waves of fatigue wash over you, and you lift your legs up and rest your forehead on your knees. “And the worst part is, is that San cares about me in a way no one has. At least, not in the same sense you guys do. And it feels different but my brain is telling me it’s the same honey trap all over again. I’m holding myself back from opening up to him, which is the smart move all things considering, but some part of me wants to open up to him and that scares me so damn much.”

Mingi doesn’t interrupt even as you pause again, knowing you well enough to be able to tell when you’ve finished talking and when you’re taking a moment to find the truest words to string together even if it sometimes doesn’t make sense when it is translated from your mind.

“Last night, he came to me and told me that if I wanted answers out of him, I would have to hear why he didn’t want to tell me then tell him why he should tell me.” You sigh. “Mingi, he knows about what they did to Yunho--or at least snippets of what his dad did to him. I’m sure he knows that I know that too because I made the stupid fucking decision to ask about Yunho specifically. He said he didn’t want me near people like that...”

Isaac’s presence filled the silence but neither of you mentioned it.

“He asked me to tell him why I needed to know...and I just...couldn’t. It wasn’t my place and we both kind of shut down on each other and for some fucking reason, it hurt a bit. I just...” You let out another heavy breath. “I don’t know. It feels so messy.”

A beat or two passes before he exhales. “Okay. Yeah, that is pretty fuckin’ heavy.” You smile, breathing out a little amused laugh. “But that’s okay, Y/N. None of this shit ever comes easily.

“First and foremost, before we touch any of that other shit you just said, you need to get it through to your head that you are in absolutely no way, shape, or form, the reason why all this is being dredged up again. You of all people know how the past has a nasty way of catching up to us, and Yunho was going to have to face it sooner or later. Yes, the fact that you’re with San means that it did come sooner, but that doesn’t make it bad whatsoever.

“Yunho has his own demons and we can’t protect him forever, no matter how much we want to. If anything, this couldn’t have come at a better time. Our future isn’t exactly secure in the field we work in so at least it’s coming now when we are all here to support him through his problems and help him grow. But remember, we’re not powerless kids anymore. Yunho knows that too, he’s just trying to get his brain up to speed with it in his own way.”

You want to protest that you can do more, but the words die on your tongue as you tell our brain that Mingi is right. Yunho has to work through his own demons, and you being there to baby him through the process would be more counter-productive than anything.

Mingi clears his throat. “You’re stubborn and a major empath, so I dunno if any of that stuck.”

You smile faintly. “I’m trying to make it.”

“Good. Now, onto the whole spaghetti of emotions you’re having about San and relationships.” He sighs, “you weren’t wrong when you said it was messy. But don’t think for a second that it’s not supposed to be. Your hearts been stomped on to high heaven so I don’t blame you one bit for not wanting to give San a chance.” You open your mouth to protest but he already hears the fight coming and cuts it out of the roots, “I know we joked about you falling for San at the beginning and you have this whole aversion to the concept of ‘love’ so for arguments sake, we’ll just say you like him and chalk this situation as Fate being the bitch that it is.”

He hesitates for a moment. “I was actually planning on telling you this later, when you had finally come to terms with your own feelings about the whole Dominic thing but it seems like you did that already--which, by the way, I am very proud of you. Even if it did come out as a part of an emotional explosion since you have a horrible habit of bottling everything in until you’re bursting at the seems.”

“Thanks,” your tone is deadpan with an underlying tone of amusement to it.

“No problem. Anyway, Seonghwa made Yeosang and I do some more research into San--he was doing all this fancy computer wizard shit again and I did some incognito spy shit--and he really doesn’t seem that bad of a person. I mean, yeah, he’s got as much blood on his hands as the next mobster but he just seems to be a nice person? Again, relative to him being part of the mafia world. So if you wanted to open up to him... I mean, I don’t see why not.”

“He could have that side to him, the one he doesn’t show to everyone. He could hurt me.”

“Y/N, don’t take this the wrong way... but that will always be a possibility with anyone you meet--be it a potential friend or partner or whatever. You learn from the pain and mistakes, and recognise the signs more easily if you see them again so you don’t get hurt as badly as the last time. You left Dominic when he cheated on you, recognising that as one of the signs that he didn’t care for you as you wanted him to. You learned from the last time. And what did you learn from Dominic that you’ll keep an eye out for?”

You don’t realise that the tears had stopped until they started again at his gentle tone and careful words. This time, slower. “I wasn’t as important to him as his ego and reputation was. He was very different to how he was in public and how he was in private,” you sniffled, recalling all the times he would try to seem Big and Masculine in from of his friends often at your expense.

It happened on your way to Jeju, when you were struggling with the luggage and he was chatting to his friends about how he was going on a casual holiday, forgetting that it was supposed to be a birthday trip for you and Mingi. Even at the birthday dinner, he tried to make a speech that fed his ego as the Good Boyfriend at the expense of one of the most important people in your life.

“The point is, you can’t be so afraid of being hurt again that you shut everyone out. That’s a painfully slow death you’ll be experiencing. You live, you hurt, you learn, you move on. What did Auntie L/N always say when we were being angsty kids?”

You mouth quirked at the memory of your mother. “Let the negative emotions come, let them teach you, but never let them overstay.” God, you missed her.

“Yeah. You’ve got that wise woman gene from her. Maybe rather than only using it for others, use it for yourself too.”

Sniffles filled in the silence as you let that sink in, silently promising yourself that you would try to do that. That you would try to be kinder to yourself.

“As for the Yunho shit in relation to San...trust your gut. You know what to say and what not to.”

“Okay,” you mumble, feeling another tsunami of fatigue wash over you again now that this is all off your chest. “You said you did some spy shit? Are you Seoul right now?”

“Damn, I was planning on surprising you. Just a few towns over, actually, but still in Choi territory.”

“What if I speak to San? About letting you come here to visit me? I don’t think he’d say no.”

He thinks for a second. “Hm, well I’m gonna see you anyway so you might as well see if you can get a less fun way too I suppose.”

This time your chuckle comes out stronger and once Mingi feels like you’re in a decent mental state, he lets you end the call.

Any second-in-command worth their salt would be attuned to their leader and able to take over the heavy lifting when it was beginning to get too much for them. And Hongjoong was priceless so it didn’t take much for him to sense San’s off mood. He was not as sharp today, was not as focused as he usually was and that was strange in and of itself.

San was always great at compartmentalising and separating his work and personal affairs so they did not bleed into one another--which was a fucking feat considering most of the men in these circles lived and breathed their work life (not a very healthy thing to do) and also the fact that San used to date Jeong Dae who came from a very powerful family in their own right.

There was only one being who could frazzle this impenetrable man.

Wooyoung and Jongho had spent the most time with you and so had begun to take a liking to you--then again, the what they considered to be a nice partner was a line down all the way in the ninth circle of hell after their experience with Dae.

More than anything, he was frustrated because you do seem like a nice person--stuffed full of secrets that you hold tightly to your chest more so than the average person--but he cared more for San’s heath and right now, he looked fucking terrible.

He knew that if the other man got a whiff of how Hongjoong was trying to take care of him, he would get annoyed from being treated like a child. Would try that much harder to take on more of the work. Years of having to deal with him taught him the fine art of how to manipulate the stubborn ass into looking after his own wellbeing but being willing to share some of the workload.

But even masters of craft come along a new situation they are unsure of how to handle once in a while.

“San?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles absentmindedly, staring at sheets of paper the blue-haired man knows for a fact is reading two-three times over just to get the words to make sense to him through the foggy lethargic haze clouding his brain. Could see it in his eyes.

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

He takes in a deep breathe. “Uh... not much. Couldn’t sleep.”

“How come?”

“Just...couldn’t.”

He hums in response, not taking his eyes of the sheets in from of him. “I think we both know that’s a lie.”

San slaps his own documents onto his desk, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Then what do you want me to say? Do you want me to open up and talk about my feelings?”

Hongjoong presses his lips in to a thin line. “That’d be a start...” When he feels San’s growing agitation, he finally looks up at him. “You don’t have to go into detail about anything if you don’t wanna, but dude, you can’t just pretend whatever is on your mind isn’t, ya know?”

His words don’t seem to persuade him to talk, at least he thinks they don’t when the other man picks up the closest sheet of paper next to him...and then throws it back down and sits in a huff back in his chair. “She just... she just won’t open up to me. Like, I’m trying so hard here and there’s that barrier between us. Last night,” his tone softens a little as the memory washed over him, “it seemed like things were shifting. Like she was starting to let me in.”

He take a few seconds to calm the growing irritation he felt. “I extended an olive branch and when it was her turn, she just...shut me out again. I mean, I suppose she tried to offer an alternative by letting me stay with her--” he ignored the other’s raised brows “--but it wasn’t the same.”

Even with the holes and lack of your side of the story, Hongjoong had an idea of the whole situation. “Right, I can’t believe what I’m about to say but...are you sure she’s not totally at fault for that?” He notices the look he sends him. “Okay, hear me out. Imagine you’re in her shoes and some rando just up and kidnapped you. No matter how nicely you treat her, she isn’t going to bare the deepest parts of her soul to you after a few weeks. She’s not trusting, like she’s a... like a...”

He tried to find the right analogy, right at the tip of his tongue, but San beat him to it with a quiet answer. “Like a wounded animal.”

“Uh... Yeah. I think. She’s got that vibe about her, that she’s been hurt before and so keeps herself closed off. And maybe you need to think about yourself too. With what we do, you’re going to have to keep secrets from her--you are keeping secrets from her by being cryptic and not willing to answer her questions. I mean, you’re not entirely wrong for not wanting to tell her about the Jeongs, but do you really think she would want to give up any of those pieces of herself she holds so close to her chest to someone who won’t fully do the same for her?”

Hongjoong has a strong sense you’re a lot more intelligent than what you make yourself seem, but he doesn’t say that. “I don’t know what to do or how to fix your situation--only you and Y/N can do that--but you should at least see her side of things too. And maybe just take it a bit easy when you’re this annoyed because you’re not getting much done and that’s pissing you off even more.”

“...Geez, dude. Okay.” San rubs his hands over his face and sighs. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll, uh... are you good with handling this?”

“It’s literally my job.”

“Alright,” he huffs in amusement, then stands up to gather his coat and phone, ready to call his driver to take him back to the apartment. “Oh, and--”

Hongjoong cuts him off without looking back at him. “Yeah, everything’s ready at home. I’ll let the house staff know that we’re coming back this weekend and to make sure it’s all perfect.”

San smiles at him in gratitude. “What would I do without you?”

“Not a damn thing, that’s for sure.”

Yeah, Hongjoong doesn’t need to be told if he’s a good Second. He damn well knows it from the grateful look in his best friend’s eye. That’s enough for him

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby , @sparklychangbin , @asterizee (I think you're @/shawkneecaps I'm sorry if I got that wrong 😭😭), @wooyoungsbxtch , @megjoonyeol , @kpop-khh-writer-trash , @baguette-atiny , 

If you wanna be tagged, feel free to ask! 

[soul-shenanigans]

Nightmare sent them to pick you up-

[allyallyorange]

Luck and Trouble

Mafia AU with @nnnnnnnothingtoseehere

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ Reactions Masterlist

Unless specified, I write a mix of idol!ateez and non-idol!ateez for reactions.

You breaking up with him as a prank.

You run away. (Mafia!Ateez)

You dancing with another male idol in front of him on a show.

You want to take a break after an argument. 

You faint.(idol!reader)

Saying something hurtful to you during an argument.(Mafia!Ateez)

You catch him cheating on you.

Your friend tries to flirt with him.

Overhearing and misunderstanding something you said.

Rumors of you dating another idol. (idol!reader)

Disapproving of you smoking. 

You make out with your co-star for a movie/drama.

Your ex wants you back. 

You ask him to buy pads. (Text version)

You get injured.(celeb!reader)

You ignore him as a prank.

Watching an erotic movie with you.

Finding a positive pregnancy test (but it isn’t yours).

You come home late after an argument. (Mafia!Ateez)

You’re his bestfriend and you kiss him/he kisses you. 

“I had a dream about you . . . you were my sleep paralysis demon.” (Text Version)

You call him a “friend.”

You tell him to sleep on the couch after an argument.

He accuses you of cheating on him. (Mafia!Ateez)

Sitting on their lap during a bumpy car ride.

He finds out you’re a spy from his rival gang. (Mafia!Ateez)

You prank him with lyrics. (Text version)

Someone hitting on you. (Mafia!Ateez)

He finds out that he has a child. (Mafia!Ateez, Dad!Ateez)

He gives you an inkigayo sandwich. (Idol!Reader)

You wearing their clothes.

Being on the same show as you. (idol!reader)

You being affectionate/horny when drunk.

You’re his / he’s your wallpaper.

You kiss him out of the blue.

Confessing your / his feelings after an arranged marriage. (Mafia!Ateez, arranged marriage au)

His child interrupts him during a meeting / work. (Mafia!Ateez, Dad!Ateez)

You’re his love interest for a movie/drama.

Leading him/you on as a prank.

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia - Series Masterlist

Y/N is an aspiring ballerina who catches the eye of a handsome man with a dark side. Will the doll come to life and capture their hearts or will she wither and return to a life of darkness?

Genre: Dark Romance, Angst, Eventual Smut, Some Fluff, Mystery, Supernatural

ot8 ateez x (f) reader (mafia au) - taglist closed!

Inspired by Golden Hour Pt 2

warnings: violence, smut (minors dni), character death, brief mentions of child abuse, drugs, alcohol, murder, corruption, kidnapping, gang wars, gang violence, gun violence, gambling, supernatural elements, serial killer, details of mutalation (more will be added)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 - MDNI

Chapter 9 - MDNI

Chapter 10 - MDNI

Coppélia follows the love story of a young man named Franz who falls in love with a doll that just came to life. The ballet shows the stories of magic and mysterious things that happen in the human environment including the supernatural.

[s3lkieboy]

Is this anything

[glitchy-squidd]

fell art I forgot to post completely

i like to think fell doesn't like suits

[fisheebonez]

meet "Delia" and "Pascal", commonly known as Sans and Papyrus the funny skeleton siblings don't mind about the red stains on them, these are just ketchup ;) personal take of Mafia Sans and Papyrus I guess???? and yeah Sans / Delia is a woman, i just want badass female mafia and big sister + younger brother duo :")

clean version

[armpirate]

Until You're Mine || Choi San

San, a notorious and feared mafia boss, has always lived in the shadows of power and violence. When an ambush leaves him wounded and on the run, he finds refuge in an empty event hall. Inside, Y/n, a rising star in the world of event planning, is nursing her own wounds -a career on the line after a confrontation with a powerful client. The last thing she expects is for her night to take a dark turn when San stumbles into her life, bloodied and dangerous.

Despite the fear and uncertainty, Y/n can't turn away. She helps him clean up, binding more than just his wounds in the process. What begins as an intense, chance encounter spirals into a dangerous obsession. San, used to being the hunter, becomes fixated on the one woman who dared to help him, even in his darkest moment. Meanwhile, Y/n, caught in the mystery of that powerful man, finds herself tracking his every move, unable to shake the dangerous allure of his world.

Neither knows that their fascination with each other is mutual. In a city teeming with danger, power, and deceit, their secret obsessions will pull them deeper into a deadly game -one where love, power, and obsession intertwine, and nothing is as it seems.

1 - 2 - 3 -

[sorryimananti-romantic]

The Leaders | Masterlist

"this is the underworld that no one escapes from"

ot8!ateez x f!reader

mafia au

genres and warnings: slowburn, angst, fluff, eventual smut (mdni!) poly!ateez, smoking, drinking, gambling, illegal businesses, politics, violence, heavy themes, mild gore, multiple pairings, more specific warnings in the chapters

estimated word count: approx 200k

synopsis: in eden 1970, you join the inner circle of the crescent company by sharing information that could crumble the very foundations of eden itself. amidst the dark world of manipulation, connections, dirty politics and illegal dealings, you navigate with eight seemingly-refined gentlemen who have your back as the war with the elites begins. 

timeline | maps | character book (to be released)

chapters:

one |

status: coming soon

taglist: apply here!

[bvidzsoo]

Take me to Paris...

▽ Neighbor!Seonghwa ▽

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader

∞ Warning: light mocking, blood, murder ∞ Word count: 5.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, single mother!au, moving in together!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: With the appearance of Park Seonghwa in your neighborhood on a random afternoon, you find yourself running into him more often than not. You can't help but be skeptical of him, but I mean, your daughter loves him, so he must be a good man, right?

∞ A/N: I haven't forgotten about this little drabble series I have started a while ago, fear not hehe! Finally, Seonghwa's part is here, I hope it's enjoyable as I find it wonky lol. I don't know yet who I'll be posting next, it could be either Hongjoong, or Wooyoung, or even Mingi. Oh, and nothing is too detailed so you don't have to worry about that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

▽ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            Summer was nearing its end, the weather slowly turning cloudier and moodier. The mornings were chill, refreshing, but throughout the day it would warm up significantly, allowing you to walk around wearing thin and cute outfits. However, by the time the evening came, you’d have to cover up with something warm to keep yourself from catching a cold. All of that while trying to remain fashionable, well, whatever a four-year-old found fashionable enough. Wrestling my little one into outfits that would keep her both warm but not too hot was rather difficult as she turned out to have a rather stubborn persona even at her young age. Not liking to be coddled, but also hating to be alone was something we battled with daily, except on the days when her nanny came over so that I could go to work. My little one hasn’t been trusting of strangers since an even younger age, big eyes wary of anyone who came too close and cooed at her. Perhaps my overprotective tendencies played a big role in my daughter being skeptical of those around her, unless they were little girls who liked to play dress-up and organize tea parties in blanket forts.

Life as a single mother hadn’t been easy, but we managed just fine—have been for a while now. My parents lived in the city next to ours, a mere one-hour long drive away, and that also played a role in me learning how to be independent while navigating through motherhood for the first time. I would be lying if I said it was easy and an absolutely lovely journey, but I also would be lying if I said I haven’t been enjoying every single part of it, every little step my beautiful daughter has taken by my side. Without my two best friends, I probably wouldn’t be living as comfortably as I was at the moment, would be probably juggling between jobs, and considering moving back in with my parents. Arin’s father hasn’t been part of our lives since the second he found out I was pregnant, instead, he ran off to work on a cruise ship, throwing in the excuse that he’d be too absent in our lives like that, and instead he’d like to prevent his daughter from growing up wondering when her father would be back. However, due to his stupid choices he ended up making her wonder why she didn’t have a father like all the other children she went to kindergarten with or played at the playground with. Everyone makes mistakes, and mine was trusting my highschool sweetheart, who also happened to be the biggest asshole and player known to mankind.

With the weather changing drastically and the new school year being just around the corner, I tried to take my little one to the playground as often as I could, wanting her to enjoy the little freedom summer break offered us. My job was rather flexible and allowed me to spend a lot of time with my daughter as I more often than not worked from home, only required to step inside the headquarters when there were important meetings and business proposals. Arin had been excited when I told her we’d be going to the playground once again, before it could get dark, with the thought in mind to let her know that I would be sending her to daycare as I have decided to take on a second job as well. We managed just fine, but I wanted her to have more comfort, more toys, more pretty clothes that she could show off whenever she wanted to.

Her dark hair was in two little pigtails, bouncing on the top of her head with every step she took. The purple jeans she chose to wear didn’t match with the rest of her outfit, but I couldn’t care less when I saw the happy look on her face as we walked over to the mirror. Her blouse was a simple beige colour and had all sorts of different coloured flowers decorating it, her red socks peeking out from her white shoes. Thankfully her most favourite playground was in our neighbourhood, just around the block, and she was more than eager to meet her friends today too. I had held her little hand as we walked down the pavement, grinning as she babbled on about whatever cartoon she had been watching earlier, elated to tell her best friend about it too. Stepping inside the gated playground, I was quickly forgotten as she rushed over to her friends, not paying mind to my request of always staying within my sight. I had walked over to an empty bench and sat down, watching my daughter play around with other children with a smile on my face.

At times, I wondered what life would be like without her. Whether I would have stayed here or moved to another country, whether I would have signed up for another college or remained with the diploma I have right now. Whether I would have chosen a career that was more active and sociable than the one I had now, secluded and homebound. Whether I would have found a man that actually cherishes me and my child, whether he would have gotten married to me first and wouldn’t have run away, leaving a pregnant woman alone to fend for herself and their baby. But it was better without my ex, he would have been a horrible father, and I’d rather my little Arin not have a father figure while growing up than have one that is horrible and makes her hate all men.

It didn’t take long for the other mothers to approach me, wide smiles on their faces as they were happy to see me, happy that Arin was here to play with their children. Most of them were stay at home mothers until their children grew past the point of constantly needing attention and help, and they were rather friendly, understanding, and quite helpful if I needed guidance or a little bit of help. Doyoung’s mother was the friendliest out of them all, she never failed to make my day better and she always brought cookies for the two of us to snack on while our kids played around in the sand. But today she wasn’t here, and that meant I had to face Jake’s mother on my own, a woman that was far from being nice, and never failed to find ways to belittle me for being a single mother. She never said it, but I knew she thought I was a whore; I could see it in her eyes whenever she grinned that fake grin of hers.

“Ah, the weather is so lovely today.” And to my luck, it had been her who approached me first, the other mothers slowly coming up to us, greeting us with smiles and little waves. I paid her no mind, instead looked for my little girl, finding her on the swings as Nakyoung gently pushed her, making Arin giggle loudly.

“Is this real snake skin?!” A mother, one that was rather shallow, exclaimed as she grabbed for Jake mother’s purse, mouth having fallen open.

“Of course, it is,” Jake’s mother chuckled, looking over her sunglasses, “I don’t wear fakies.”

I tried to keep my eyeroll minimal as Jake’s mother threw a fleeting look my way, never failing to flaunt her wealth and the fact that I owned one fake Louis Vuitton bag. Sue me, the design was elegant, and I wasn’t about to leave it at the thrift store just because it was a fake one.

“It must be nice to have a rich husband.” Emma’s mother sighed dreamily, her lipstick a little smudged, but nobody pointed it out to her.

“It is rather comfortable,” Jake’s mother giggled, pushing her lavish curls behind her shoulders, “saves you from a lot of house chores and work I’d rather not do.”

“How are you today?” I felt a soft nudge against my knee, and I turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother, a woman who was beautiful beyond her years, well-mannered, wise, and very sweet. I liked her just as much as I liked Doyoung’s mother, sometimes the three of us would grab some coffee if our schedules aligned.

“Just fine, and you?” I asked, our voices hushed as we tuned out the other mothers’ conversation, not curious of whatever boasting Jake’s mother was on about. She couldn’t tell us anything new, she always repeated the same old stories, changing a few details here and there, thinking we wouldn’t notice.

“Mingyu’s been restless today,” His mother sighed, pursing her lips, “the more he grows, the harder it is to make him sit still.”

“Arin is energetic too.” I chuckled, watching Mingyu’s mother with an understanding look, “And she loves throwing tantrums if things don’t go her way.”

“Ah, of course.” Mingyu’s mother chuckled, shaking her head, “Maybe our little ones learnt it from each other, because Mingyu’s been doing them more frequently too.”

“Certainly, they must be conspiring—”

“Arin and Mingyu’s mothers,” Jake’s mother raised her voice, lips pulled into a fake grin, “are you leaving out others from your conversation now? Isn’t that rude?”

The other mothers chuckled, rather awkwardly, but Mingyu’s mother remained calm as she raised her eyebrows at Jake’s mother, “I don’t think having a private conversation with someone is considered rude despite sitting in a group.”

With a snort, I added, “Especially if only one person is talking in that group, that feels ruder to me…”

The other mothers, besides Mingyu’s, looked around awkwardly, some clearing their throats as the others tried to play it off as funny as they chuckled. Jake’s mother’s lips formed a tight line as she cleared her throat, gripping her authentic snake skin purse like anyone would want to steal it from her.

“I was merely sharing how much my lovely husband loves me.” Jake’s mother chuckled, voice dripping with honey as she blinked innocently, “You know, he’s always eager to please me, and, frankly, if a snake skin purse is what makes me happy as I have to stay at home and raise our child, he’ll get it for me without a fuss. What has your husband given you—”

Her insult wasn’t new, nor impressive, as I blinked at her, lips slowly pulling into a small smile. Mingyu’s mother scoffed next to me, and the other mothers’ looked rather uncomfortable due to the atmosphere Jake’s mother had created now. Really, if the woman wanted to hurt me, she’d have to get a lot more creative with her stupid back-handed insults.

“You know,” My voice was levelled, calm, “if I want to make myself happy, I buy that damn snake skin purse myself. I don’t need a husband who forces me to stay at home, stealing away my freedom, while he goes out and cheats on me as much as he’d like, knowing that when he returns, I’ll be waiting for him with warm dinner on the table and open legs.”

Well, that pretty much shut up the other mothers as Jake’s gasped, looking more than appalled by what I dared say to her face. I wasn’t insinuating anything, but knowing her, she definitely made it about herself in her pea sized brain, gaping like a fish as I rolled my eyes at her and turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother. She had her hand in front of her mouth, trying to muffle her giggles. A young child screamed all of a sudden, alerting us mothers as our heads whipped in the direction of the screams.

“Dear!” Kyuhyun’s mother exclaimed, running over to her child as he was clutching his little knee with tears streaming down his face. Realizing that I haven’t been checking on my little Arin, I let my eyes survey the playground, quickly coming to the alarming realization that she wasn’t anywhere. Heart suddenly racing in my chest, I jumped up to my feet and whipped my head around, alerting Mingyu’s mother.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t see Arin!” My voice sounded breathless as I left my belongings on the bench, taking off in a jog towards the sand. Mingyu was by himself, building a sand tower as he glanced up at me, his little canines showing as he grinned.

“A tower!” He pointed at his sculpture, but I couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Have you seen Arin?” I asked panicked, feelings my hands shake as I tried to fight the impeding panic that threatened to overtake my rational thoughts. I had to stay level-headed if I wanted to find my little girl.

“She went there, I think.” Mingyu pointed behind the big slides, that part of the playground rather obscured as it was covered with large bushes and overgrown grass. Thanking him quickly, I took off towards where the little boy had pointed, lump in my throat and heart in my chest racing wildly as I realized the gate was open and my little girl was talking to a man, giggling and letting him pat her head.

“Arin!” My voice sounded as panicked as I felt on the inside, it was loud and stern, alerting my daughter and the man she stood with. My feet carried me over in no time and I scooped her up in my arms, hugging her tightly, uncaring that she was getting heavier and I couldn’t carry her as much as I would’ve liked to, “Arin.”

I whispered against her hair, kissing her cheek as she giggled, hugging me around the neck as I finally turned my head, glaring at the stranger. But it took me by surprise how well-dressed and handsome he was, standing tall with his hands behind his back, shoulders pulled back, expression blank. The right side of his long black hair was slicked back, the left strands falling into his eye, slightly obscuring it from view. Despite the roundness of them, his eyes were sharp and fierce, it made my heart race once again as I couldn’t read his expression, scared of what he wanted. His nose was tall and his lips plush and plump, skin perfect and sun-kissed, “What the hell are you doing talking to my daughter?!”

My eyes swiftly checked him out again, taking in the expensive looking outfit he wore. His pants were of leather and hugged his long legs elegantly, obscuring the high heeled boots he was wearing. Despite the heat, he wore a black turtleneck with a white shirt and vest over it, all tucked inside his leather pants, with a black coat draped over his shoulders. His necktie was loose, but not to the point it would make his outfit look unkept. For a second, I wondered how he managed it with all the layers of clothing if I was sweating in a simple tee and ruffled midi-skirt.

“I’m afraid you misunderstood my intentions, Miss.” The man’s voice was deep, yet pleasant, taking me off guard by how calm and reassuring it sounded. It didn’t match his face nor outlook, “I was passing by, on my way to my car, when I saw her stumble past the unlocked gate. Worried that she was lost or would run into bad people, I decided to stop and ask her if she was here alone or with someone, with the intention of walking her back to you.”

I gulped as Arin nuzzled against my neck, peeking at the stranger with a shy giggle, “He’s handsome!”

“Arin.” I muttered, and threw her an unimpressed look, “Is it true what the man is saying?”

“Yes!” Arin exclaimed, suddenly pulling away from my neck as she grinned widely at the man. I’ve never seen her act like that towards strangers before, my eyebrows raised in surprise as I watched her make grabby hands at him, “You promised you’d carry me.”

The man’s chuckle was deep as Arin started pouting, making me feel embarrassed slightly, “Arin, you can’t ask people to just carry you around, especially not strangers—”

“But he’s not—” Her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled for a second, “stranger, he’s Seong—hwa?”

The man chuckled and fixed his coat as his hands slipped inside the pockets of his leather pants, “Seonghwa, yes. I promised to carry you to your mommy, but she’s here now, so I don’t have to do that anymore.”

“But—” Arin pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she gave me puppy eyes, “can’t he be my daddy?”

“Arin.” I hissed mortified, cheeks flushing as the stranger raised an eyebrow, looking rather elegant as he did so, “I told you, you can’t ask random men to be your father—I’m sorry.”

I faced the stranger—Seonghwa—and bowed my head as Arin whined, kicking her legs and my ribs subsequently. I grimaced and went to chastise her, but to my surprise, the stranger stepped closer, eyes narrowed, but not maliciously.

“You’re hurting your mother, stop kicking.” The authority in his voice made both Arin and I pause as we both gazed at him with wide eyes, “You should thank her instead for coming to find you, and don’t wander off again, there’s a lot of bad people in the world.”

“Is that true?” Arin whispered, her round eyes falling on me as her lower lip jutted out. I sighed and nodded, facing the man again.

“Thank you, really, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” I bowed my head again, then placed Arin onto the ground, taking her hand into mine.

“Be more careful next time, you never know who you come across.” There was an almost dangerous lull to his tone, eyes slightly narrowing before he bowed his head and took off, probably towards his car. I gulped, the lump finally gone from my throat as I watched Seonghwa disappear around the corner, not a speck of dust on his expensive clothes. Then, I felt Arin squeeze my arm and sniff, making me look down at her to find her crying.

“Arin, what’s wrong?” I asked worried, feeling panicked again as all sorts of scenarios ran through my mind. Maybe Seonghwa did something to her and she was scared to say it in front of him.

“Seong—hwa promised to buy me cotton candy once we found you.” Tears rolled down my little one’s cheeks, making me chuckle as I crouched down to be eye level with her, “And he said he’d buy you coffee too.”

“He said that?” I asked surprised, wiping her tears away.

“Yes, he said he likes your skirt.” My eyebrows furrowed as I pressed a reassuring kiss against her chubby and rosy cheek.

“Does he now?” I muttered to myself as I stood up again, and tried to shake off the unease as I guided us back inside the playground. This was a weird interaction and it’s left me feeling uneasy and hopeful that something like this wouldn’t happen again.

            Days, weeks, passed by and it seemed like the stranger from the playground was everywhere now. Park Seonghwa, he had said his name was on a random Saturday afternoon, when we bumped into each other at a rather small flower shop, ten minutes away from my neighbourhood. I hadn’t been looking where I was going as I was busy multitasking—as in opening the shop’s door while typing away on my phone to the nanny that I would be home in fifteen minutes—and thus, the second I was out the door I had collided against a hard chest. The apology died down in my throat upon seeing the familiar face, heart racing out of unease rather than excitement. But Seonghwa had been nice, helped me pick up the bouquet I had dropped, and then offered to drive me home as the wind had picked up, dark storm clouds promising a downpour that would come rather soon. But, as I had taught my little Arin to not trust strangers, I didn’t trust this man either, and politely declined his offer. He didn’t seem weird nor made me feel uncomfortable, but I was wary of him. After all, the way we met was more suspicious than not.

The next time we ran into each other was barely a few days after the encounter at the flower shop, when I was out early in the morning, picking up fresh bread and some chocolate croissants that Arin loves a lot. My best friends had slept over the night prior, and so, it was safe for me to leave the apartment on my own, the two would watch over Arin if she were to wake up earlier than expected. The bakery had an adjacent coffee shop as well, and while I waited for my coffee order, I had stepped into line to order the delicacies, unassuming of the round eyes watching me from a table placed by the entrance. I was engrossed in reading through my emails as it was finally my turn in line, but the barista called my name to get my coffee right as I had placed my order for the pastries, and I had no choice but to step aside and quickly fetch my coffee. However, when I made it back to the cashier, the delicacies and my coffee have been paid for. When I asked how, the cashier just giggled about a tall and handsome man, dressed in an expensive suit, having paid for my purchases before he hurried outside. I had swiftly turned around, eyes wide as I caught a quick glimpse of Seonghwa sitting inside a very expensive looking Mercedes Benz parked across the street. My heart had started racing, but not out of unease anymore, but out of curiosity and wonder.

Then the next week had arrived, and Arin and I were at a playhouse when suddenly Seonghwa was sat at our table, smiling widely as he offered an unopened bag of marshmallows to Arin. I couldn’t help but gape at him, wondering whether it was coincidence that he had Arin’s favourite snack at hand. He apologized for having sat at our table uninvited, but he said his niece worked at the playhouse, and upon seeing us he wanted to greet us. Arin was beyond enthralled and begged Seonghwa to stay with us, managing to convince the both of us as we gave in at the end, keen to entertain my young daughter. It was rather heartwarming seeing Seonghwa so eager to play with Arin as they both made their way to the trampolines, Seonghwa looking out of place in his fancy leather outfit. Upon finishing my orange juice, I joined the two and was rather surprised to find myself enjoying Seonghwa’s company. Despite his fierce looks, he was a gentle man with a kind heart, happily playing with Arin, and letting her drag him around while he tried to make conversation with me as well. When I had put Arin to bed, she asked whether we could invite Seonghwa over to our house for a yummy meal.

Not much to my surprise anymore, a day later, Seonghwa and I crossed paths at the convenience store, and I decided to stop being so uptight and stirred up a conversation with him, inquiring of his sudden appearances wherever I went. He said he had recently moved into the neighbourhood, hence why we were crossing paths more often, and he had always liked making new friends, so he was rather eager to get to know me, if I also wanted that. I still didn’t fully trust him—he was still a stranger after all—but I decided to agree to hanging out in the weekend, of going someplace silent and relaxing. Arin could stay with the nanny this time; I didn’t want to involve her just yet knowing she liked Seonghwa rather a lot.

It had been a day before the agreed upon hangout, when I was walking home from a meeting that got drawn out due to a business partner showing up unannounced. Thankfully one of my friend’s was free for the night and went over to my house to help out as the nanny couldn’t stay for the evening as well, stressing me out even more. The sky was dark and the air chilly as I had gotten off the bus. I hadn’t driven to my workplace because I thought the meeting wouldn’t be more than two hours, meaning that it would’ve been still light outside when I had to return home. But that was hours ago, and now I just barely managed to catch the last bus, eager to get home and bury myself under the warm blankets, cuddled up next to Arin and my friend, probably having to watch Arin’s favourite Barbie movie again.

The neighbourhood was quiet as my heels clicked loudly, my pace quickening as I could feel a blister form right underneath my big toe, making me hiss out in pain as I stepped rather wonkily on it. My wrists had started aching from how many notes I had taken, and the satchel bag that hung over my shoulder was heavier than usual due to my laptop being inside it. I passed the convenience store just as the old lady was closing up, and we briefly greeted each other as I sighed loudly, my apartment just three blocks away now, right around the corner. The streets were quiet and a few lampposts were faulty as they flickered, then completely went out, making me shiver as it reminded me of horror movie scenes. My breaths were laboured and my gut feeling told me to just hurry up, so ignoring the ache of my foot due to the blister, I started walking faster, my heels clicking harder against the concrete. Much to my alarm, I could hear hurried footsteps behind myself, almost as if they were trying to catch up to me. My heart had started racing as I gripped my satchel bag tightly, ready to swing it at whoever if they tried to come at me.

I heard a hiss behind and I decided to look back, eyes widening instantly when they fell on a masked man, who had started running at me now. I shrieked and took off, the heels not being an obstacle as I made my way down the street, clutching my bag tightly as it tried to swing around my body. Nothing could’ve stopped me as I ran for my life, chest heaving as I tried not to slow down, the apartment complex I lived in barely a block away now. But the masked man was catching up and I knew I couldn’t outrun him, so I tried to quickly think of an escape route where I could hideout and phone the police. My heart was pumping fast and my lips had started trembling as my body and mind were filled with adrenaline, fuelling my senses to push harder as I made a sharp turn to the left. The alleyway was dark, I hadn’t been here before, and my blood ran cold when I realized the dire mistake I have made. It was a dead-end alleyway, a wired tall fence separating it from the next passage. I was trapped in as I whirled around, eyes wide as they fell on the masked man blocking my only exit. He cackled, suddenly something sharp and glinting appearing in his hands. It was a knife. My body had started trembling as I tried to come up with a plan, hand him over whatever he asked for, but before I could open my mouth to plead for my life, the man stopped abruptly, then heavily fell over, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

I gasped as I watched him frozen, confused and scared of what has happened. Looking around, I couldn’t see anyone, and so, reluctantly I made my way towards the masked man. But when I finally reached him, my eyes widened in horror at the blatant bullet hole in the back of his head, blood oozing out of it onto the pavement, flowing towards the soles of my high heels. I whimpered as I walked around the dead body, eyes fixated on it as if it would revive him, when I crashed into a hard chest. I gasped and opened my mouth to shriek, to call for help, but instead it got muffled by a leather gloved hand, my body getting pushed against the side of one of the buildings the alleyway was encompassed between. My body trembled as I looked up, eyes getting even wider, if possible, as I recognized the familiar face.

“Seo-Seonghwa?” I whispered, eyes falling back onto the dead man before they snapped back to Seonghwa, “What—what is—”

“Shh,” He whispered, pushing the hair out of my eyes as he gently caressed my cheek with his gloved hand, “You’re safe now, nothing’s happened.”

“But—” I had to gulp hard, heart hammering against my ribcage as Seonghwa’s round eyes were the softest I’ve ever seen them be, lips pulled into an almost motherly smile. He was calm, way too calm, as if he was used to this, “But the man’s dead, I—”

“He shouldn’t have tried to rob a woman.” Seonghwa’s sharp words cut me off, his grip slipping towards my chin as he grabbed me firmly, pulling my head closer to his, “He was a dangerous person, I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Upon hearing his words I shuddered, eyes reluctantly traveling lower on his body, stopping on the black gun he held in his free hand, making me gasp, “Seonghwa, who are you—”

“I can keep you safe.” He cut me off once again, tilting my head back by my chin, our gazes meeting, “You and Arin, I can keep the both of you safe, never to worry about anything again. I can give you luxuries, vacations, anything the two of you want. Good schools, high education for Arin, whatever she’ll want in the future. I’ll give you all of that in exchange for a little something.”

I gulped, throat dry as my heart hammered against my ribcage furiously, my skin cold from the chilly air but from the lack of the adrenaline too, “What?”

My voice sounded small and afraid, but Seonghwa just smiled gently again, closing his eyes as he inhaled slowly, “Move in with me.”

“Wha-what?!” I yelped, trying to yank my head out of Seonghwa’s grip, but he held me firmly. Suddenly, he started leaning closer, making me shrink back as I was afraid he’d point the gun at me if I didn’t do what he asked of me.

“I’ve grown fond of you and Arin; I want to keep you safe.” Seonghwa explained, making my mind a jumbled mess of questions, confusion, and fright, “Did you know the father of your child has hired a detective to follow you two around? He wants to take Arin away.”

“What?!” I screwed my eyes tightly shut, head thumping from Seonghwa’s confusing words, he wasn’t making sense, “He hasn’t even been in her life, why now?”

“For money, of course.” Seonghwa sighed, tone growing colder, and I opened my eyes to find him sneering at the wall behind me, “He’s not a good man, Arin can’t fall into his hands—”

“And she won’t!” I exclaimed, gripping the collar of his leather jacket rather desperately, “How do you know all of this?!”

“I’m Park Seonghwa,” Seonghwa answered with a humoured chuckled, gripping my wrists as he removed my grip gently from his collar, “son of the chairman of Park Enterprises. You do know my family owns every nightclub in the high end of the city, right?”

I nodded, shocked to find out he was the son of the powerful Park Senior. I gulped, suddenly mulling over his words, wondering how much of it was true, “And?”

“Underground activities are much more fun than the legal ones, Y/N.” Seonghwa chuckled, bopping my nose with a gloved finger, making me flinch back, “I’m just saying…I’m the most powerful man in probably the whole country, are you sure you want to miss out on this proposal?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You’ll trust me soon enough.” He grinned, a little wicked and devilishly handsome, then leaned down and pressed a kiss against my cheek, leaving me stunned. I averted my eyes when his gaze fell on me, and accidentally looked at the dead man. Something coiled in my stomach and I had to gulp down the bile in my throat, fighting against the nausea that warned me that I would throw up as my body started shaking again, “Don’t look at him.”

Appearing in my sight, Seonghwa gently turned my head away and smiled softly again, “Deal? For Arin?”

I gulped, realizing I was crazy for what I was about to say, “Deal, for Arin.”

Seonghwa grinned and then threw his arm around my shoulder, turning me away from the dead man as he led us back onto the main street, at least eight masked men hurrying out of a black van and inside the alleyway. Seonghwa didn’t let me look back as he clicked his tongue and ushered me towards his Mercedes Benz. I steeled my nerves and reluctantly sat inside, fidgeting in the leather seat.

“I still expect us to go on that date tomorrow.” Seonghwa said once buckled up.

“Date?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him, the engine purring to life loudly.

“Did you really think it was just a casual hangout?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa chuckled and then faced ahead, pressing play on the radio, “Have you ever been to Paris, my dear?”

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[caycanteven]

waif gets uppies

[soul-shenanigans]

Bad boys, bad boys-

Whatchya gonna do-