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lokislytherin · 2 years

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言わざる // speak no evil

pairing: byelingual!park jonggun x waiter!reader

summary: yamazaki yuzuru, also known as park jonggun, is trying his damned best to learn korean for csat. despite his best efforts, his favourite bartender doesn’t seem too impressed. in other words: park jonggun hwaiting~

tags: crack, pre-canon, gun is korean by birth but raised in japan but jailed in korea so he doesn’t even know how he identifies himself anymore, canon compliant, gun might be ooc bc he’s not fighting this is calm gun

gun’s first thought upon seeing you is - damn, you’re gorgeous.

he’s been to this izakaya several times before, but he has never seen you behind the counter. maybe it’s your first day. maybe you’ve been here for a while, working the wednesday night shift, and he has just never been here on a wednesday. it’s a school night, after all. he has his csat to study for, even though he thinks he’ll fail. his korean isn’t quite up to par. he’s spent too long in juvie, and even longer in japan.

gun isn’t the only japanese person here. well, technically gun is korean, but he’s been yamazaki yuzuru, shiroi oni for so long it feels like he’s japanese instead. when he’d fought that straw-haired asshole, kim joongoo, the dumbhead had downright refused to believe gun was korean by birth. no way, he’d said with a mocking grin, hand over his jaw where gun had almost knocked his entire bottom row of teeth out, your accent’s fucking atrocious.

gun would’ve gone for round two of a fight if goo hadn’t smashed a staff into his face and almost broken his skull as well as his nose.

anyway, back to the izakaya. where gun speaks japanese, because it’s so much easier than korean to him.

gun’s been here often enough to start to recognize the regulars - hattori-san with his raspy kansai-ben, who always orders cheap beer to go with his equally cheap cigarettes and starts flirting with the whoever’s pouring his beer whenever he gets too drunk; miyamura-san, who had been sent on a year-long business trip from tokyo to seoul and drinks sake to cover up how dearly she misses her family; and there’s park jong gun himself, who always orders the same gyoza dish because it’s damn tasty, alright.

today, it’s a different person behind the counter. it’s you, who speaks kindly to miyamura-san when she weeps about homesickness. it’s you, who doesn’t hesitate to call a drunk hattori-san a cab and manhandle him out of the shop yourself when the taxi arrives. you’re around gun’s age, japanese by birth, but both your japanese and your korean, which you showcase when a korean couple wander in in search of ramen, are both better than gun’s. you don’t seem too wary about gun, either. you’re always bringing him his signature gyoza with a sweet smile, offering him helpful tips on learning korean when he brings his notebook in to study for tests. gun-chan, you tease him sometimes, study at home, not here. he doesn’t answer, too busy wondering why you don’t fear him in the slightest.

because you should.

gun is the most dangerous person in this small izakaya. you’re strong enough to manhandle hattori-san, who is drunk and balding and somewhere in his late fifties, but your wrists are thin, your legs long and slim. you’ve got that doe-eyed innocence to you too, like a newborn fawn. you’d be able to please him with your body if you didn’t break under his rough hands first.

or maybe that could be the foreplay. you’d look good, struggling not to let gun break you, fighting back with all you’ve got.

gun has no alcohol with him, but his cheeks feel a little too flushed for his own comfort. he finishes his gyoza in silence, pays you a hefty tip and refuses to take the change, and then leaves.

he’ll keep you a secret, for now. choi dongsoo doesn’t have to know about you. and neither does gun's asshole of a housemate, kim joongoo.

he comes to the izakaya once every two weeks almost religiously just to see your pretty face. every time, you greet him with a smile. at some point, it becomes a running gag between the two of you. tadaima, he’ll say as he steps in, all evidence of his, ah, after-school job carefully hidden away. okaeri, you’ll say in response, your usual gyoza? and gun will say yes, because this place, this banter, is starting to feel like home to him. nothing has ever felt like home to him. it’s hard to find peace when gun lives the life of a hired gangster.

of course, of course, peace never lasts.

because one day, after school, kim ‘fucking dumbhead who can't read social cues’ joongoo insists on following gun to the izakaya. “i’m hungry,” he complains, “it’s your cooking day today, and since you won’t cook, i’ll just get dinner with you.”

he really doesn’t want to let joongoo meet you, but joongoo's a tenacious bastard who refuses to let go even when gun is trying to choke him out in the middle of the street, so gun ends up with no choice but to bring him to meet you.

he's still squabbling with joongoo by the time he steps into the izakaya. "okaeri, gun-cha-" your eyes widen. "ara ara, gun-chan, you brought a friend?"

"yes," joongoo says at the same moment gun says "we are not friends."

you giggle, eyes bright. "okay, gun-chan and gun-chan's not friend."

"gun-chan," joongoo mouths in awe. his knowledge of japanese is limited to anime and "omae wa mou shindeiru".

gun gives him a noogie because he's too polite to get blood all over your meticulously cleaned counter. "usual gyoza for me," gun mutters to you in japanese because he knows joongoo won't understand, "and the least popular item on the menu for him."

you laugh. "hai, hai!"

you end up placing two dishes of the same gyoza in front of gun and joongoo. gun blinks. "you're kidding, right?"

"gun-chan, you're literally the only one who orders this."

joongoo digs into his gyoza with a hearty "itadakimasu!" and you laugh when he gets sauce on his stupid glasses. gun feels overwhelming jealousy gnawing at his insides. you're his. you shouldn't be laughing at joongoo unless you're mocking him.

"just between you and me," you whisper to gun over the counter, "your friend reminds me of some of the tourists i used to get at the famiresu i used to work at in japan. they'd try to speak in japanese, but their accent wouldn't be right. it's sweet to see them try."

it's all too easy to imagine you in a cute apron and matching hat, cheerfully shouting "irraishaimase!" at new customers. it's too easy, like it's a memory instead of a fantasy. "which one did you work at? denny's?" back when he was fourteen and living the overpowered tween gangster life, he’d almost gotten attached to a denny’s worker who had actually tried to help him with his schoolwork and learning korean in particular. they were sweet but authoritative. they knew how to order him around and get him to do things, and that might have been the beginning of gun’s masochistic streak, actually. gun hadn’t seen them since he got arrested and sent to juvie in korea, but now that he thinks of it, they might have looked a little like you.

maybe he’s just projecting.

“yeah! i did work at denny's, actually.” it’s only thanks to gun’s years of experience as a trained thug that he doesn’t let his surprise show. did you read his mind? “why ask?”

“i was just curious. i grew up in japan.”

“yeah, i guessed. your japanese is excellent, but your korean… you make the same mistakes as one of my old regulars, but he was fourteen and you’re what, nineteen? you mix up the i, geu, jeo words too, just less often than he did.” you hum, a distant smile on your face. “it was easy for me to remember. it’s almost the same as koko, soko, asoko, isn’t it?”

gun nods. yeah, that was how the waiter from back then taught him to memorize i, geu and jeo too. gun just messes it up nowadays when he tries to think in korean instead of japanese. you flit off to help another patron and strike up a conversation with them instead. gun had almost forgotten that he couldn’t monopolise your attention that easily.

joongoo nudges him with the most demonic smile of all time settled on his face. there’s a veggie stuck between his teeth, and oh, what wouldn’t gun do to punch it out of the way? punch joongoo so hard he chokes on his own shattered teeth? “someone’s got a crush~” he sings loudly. nobody hears him over the din of the izakaya. “i’m gonna tell the b-”

gun tips his chin up and forcefully shuts joongoo’s mouth. joongoo whimpers as he bites his tongue, but gun holds his mouth shut. “don’t you fucking dare.”

it’s not even a crush. it’s just a passing fancy. you just remind him of someone he used to know.

“we’re leaving,” gun hisses. he’s going to beat joongoo’s ass into next week. “yo, jagiya-”

joongoo chokes on a laugh, but gun can’t think of why. over here… isn’t it jagiya?

“it’s jeogiyo,” you say with a shit-eating grin. it’s cute on you, unlike on joongoo. “but if you want to call me jagiya i won’t mind either, gun-chan.”

gun remembers making that mistake, years ago. he’d mixed them up again - jeogiyo is ‘come here’, jagiya is ‘sweetheart’. joongoo laughs harder at gun’s slowly reddening cheeks. oh, he wants you so bad. he’d hurt you so good, make you cry as he calls you jagiya and carve his mark into your body the only way he knows how.

“or should i call you yucchan? yamazaki yuzuru-chan?” you lean in close, something dangerous on your face. good for you, gun is a dangerous man. “the white oni?”

gun freezes. “how-” no matter how he thinks of it, he can’t think of how you would know about shiroi oni. could it be the other patrons warning you against him? could someone have told you?

“you’ve always called me y/n-san, and i appreciate it. but do you know why i came to korea to study?”

gun shakes his head. you’ve always been y/n-san to him.

“my name is magami y/n. you killed my father. you hurt my little brother ken-chan.” gun remembers now - he remembers young magami kenta who idolised him, until he killed the patriarch of the magami clan. maybe you were sent away to the city to study, and that’s why you weren’t there. “did you really think i’d let you get away?”

gun stops you from threatening him the only way he can think of - he yanks you closer by the collar of your shirt and when you stumble, he’s there, waiting to swallow all of your protests with his lips. oh, he’ll break you.

he’ll break you until all you know is how to scream his name and beg him for mercy.

oh, you’d look so gorgeous.

#park jong gun #gun park #gun x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #i can’t be the only one finding this funny right. Right.#sekaiichi pabo desu (real)#i feel like this is massively ooc #because like i’ve said before i’m not a gun stan #idk how to write him properly #i’m a jay main first and foremost #even jihan’s easier to write

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