#you KNOW that mf has tailored suits. he will not survive the coming days

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I want them to die painfully

[sugarcookiesandsins]

Charmed [Episode 5]

➰ ot7 x reader, poly!bts x reader, mafia!bts ➰ they wouldn’t notice her until she was standing above them, a smoking gun in her hand a bullet in their heart 🌡 M   🛑  just y/n being a gutsy mf, mentions of death and suicide, dark humor 🕛  4.1k+

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The next month passed relatively calmly as you integrate yourself into the lives of 7 boys who wanted nothing to do with you. You seemed to clash with them on every topic, and you wondered if you would ever be able to live here without having to test the meal for any extra additives.

True, they couldn’t harm you, but there was a lot that could be done to a person without having them die as a result. The most you were fearful of was a kind of truth serum that you knew the boys had. In truth, you were sure that you weren’t supposed to find out about it until after they had successfully managed to use it on you but fate works in mysterious ways and you stumbled upon Jin making it in their sterile kitchen, isolating the benzodiazepines from bottles of Versed. It was their own blend, incorporating higher concentrations of midazolam than the legal dose.

You had never seen it in action, but you were also not willing to call their bluff so you remained on edge, watching everything you ate and touched that could have been handled by your worst enemies. It was an odd kind of life in that high-rise penthouse; isolated, yet not? 

You had once thought that nothing could beat escaping the depression of your one-bedroom studio, but among the richest of the rich you could only feel more clearly the ice of the tile seeping into your bones. It was jarring and made your skin crawl with the lifeless feeling that the place gave you. It made you wonder if the high life was worth it to you. You were happier in that run-down noodle house with the cranky mother figure who glared at you every time you sat down at her counter. Still, she never meant it and served you your favorite without having to ask.

It seemed odd that the both of you had a connection, despite the limited conversation that passed between the two of you, there was a subliminal communication that was always accompanied by the spiced scent of bone broth.

It seemed however that whoever controlled the boys thought that the eight of you had had enough bonding time and it was time that they used you for their own dirty means. Namjoon got a call ordering all of you to BigHit headquarters promptly at lunch time. It made you roll your eyes at how particular Namjoon was about being on time.

You couldn’t help but snicker at little minnows trying to act like the sharks of the ocean. Everyone who had looked into BigHit knew that the company had undergone a coup almost 10 years ago, resulting in the death of many of the party line type members who wanted to continue the orthodox ways of the mafia.

Included in the death count were the boys fathers, but it seemed they agreed and followed the new orders down to the fine print. Betrayal by the younger generations should be expected, expecially if the older fellows refused to adapt to a modernizing international spectrum.

Walking through the front doors of the building, you worked hard to maintain the neutral expression on your face. It seemed the hatred you had for this place ached to be let out, but with the seven guard dogs surrounding you, the need was strong for placidity.

Even the silver letters that spelled out ‘Law Office’, made you shiver in frustration. That’s where your father built his life and where his workers abandoned him to get gunned down in cold blood.

[MYG]

He knew this place, intimately.

It wasn’t hard not to notice the small shiver that ran through Eli as he stood beside me. We had been walking through some of the employee’s offices when he seemed to pull into his body, hiding.

This coming from the same man who had stared 6 gun barrels and could only think about getting a drink meant something. This place meant something to Eli; I knew there was more to him than meets the eye. I know that BigHit can be intimidating, but Eli was brave to the point of being stupid and yet somehow had survived this long with the kind of detached happiness that pissed off people without trying.

It was a rare combination, but he worked with it…or it worked him somehow. By the time we had gotten to the stairs, he had returned to his old self; eyes wide with curiosity as he took in the office.

It was fake. They were all fake, but then again aren’t we all.

They continued in relative silence, save for the quiet greetings that passed between the boys and their connections within the company. Pretty soon the proverbial warning bells rang as the doors closed behind you, and you stared down the head of the BigHit mafia. Clad in his expensive tailored suit and looking way too smug behind the large glass desk, your fingers twitched to grab your semi and put a bullet between his slimy eyes.

“Welcome Eli.” The smile that broke over his face looked unnatural and you hated it. “It seems my boys have finally caught you.”

The air seemed to crackle at his words and this interaction gave you more than enough information. It seems that his boys don’t like to acknowledge failures, though that was already evident from Jungkook’s obsession with perfection. But neither were you the type to admit to something that never happened.

“They didn’t catch me. I turned myself in.” You avoided any use of honorifics or even of using his name so you would have to implement those. No one in BigHit deserved your respect as far as you were concerned. “I was getting bored of seeing them suffer and decided to be benevolent.” Casting a side glance at the men in the room, whose spines had gone stiff, you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

“Have they told you why?” You saw the man’s eye twitch and you couldn’t help but entertain the thought of how far you could annoy him before he reached his limit. Everyone has a breaking point after all.

“No they haven’t, but I’m sure you’re going to.” You knew exactly what he wanted out of you. But you played dumb like you always did.

“First of all, I want to welcome you to the ranks of BigHit.”

“First of all, I would like to reject that welcome as nowhere have I agreed to join BigHit.”

It was an outright refusal, but nothing less would do. The only way to leave was to die, and you really weren’t in the mood to fake your own death.

“Loyalty to BigHit would give you a lot of name in the circles.” He tried to coax you, promising higher pay and more stability; very contradictory for a mafia but then again before the incident you and your parents were very happy. The elephant in the room became part of the family having a seat at family dinners.

“I’m not the loyal kind.” Those words could be taken in one of two ways. A declaration of Eli’s independence from BigHit, which would be the safer option, or a threat that if Eli did join BigHit, that he would have no issue betraying them for his own gain. This would not sit well with anyone who ran a business as secretive as BigHit did.

The tension in the room rose to new suffocating heights. But Yoongi only saw Eli, with that aloof smile on his face; the eye of the storm and a bastion of peace. He looked happy to be the root of the tension, and on some base level, Yoongi understood that he loved causing trouble. That was his element and his strength.

Letting the words linger for a bit, you let out a laugh to dissipate the mood. “Why so dark faced,” Eli giggled. “I only mean that it wouldn’t be good strategy to tie myself down to a single company.”

The rest of them only stared. Here was a man who looked down the barrels of six guns simultaneously and only thought of his thirst. He just made a jab at the most revered mafia boss in Seoul and was now laughing it off like he was with old friends. For a moment, Namjoon didn’t know whether to fear or respect the blonde male.

“Besides,” Eli still wasn’t done with his dueling of words,” I don’t even know how good your boys are.” One side of his mouth fitted perfectly into the seams of a half-smile, haughty, arrogant and nothing less than a taunt.

The boys that flanked you on either side understood that this was your war to win with their boss and intruding would be the worst decision one could possibly make, so they kept their mouth shut. Still, their fists clenched as they silently swore to make you eat your words one day. You would see that they were not ones to be belittled.

“I’m sure my boys will show you that their previous failures are not the status quo.” He smiled, not forgetting to emphasize the possessive implications of his words.

“Now, despite your refusal to swear fealty to BigHit, we would like to hire you to help our boys with a job. The pay will be generous if you succeed, but if not I’m sure none of them would mind putting a bullet in your head for me.”

You laughed along,” They were all too willing to do it last week, so no. I’m sure they won’t mind. Then again, who says I won’t thank them for doing it.”

It was a shallow threat, but they didn’t have to know that. For now, you left the boss with the layout of the building and a vague sense of you being a suicidal motherfucker. Those were the worst, because the concept of risk did not exist to those all too willing to let death take them.

Moving forward, you made your most bold move yet. Pulling out the chair that stood on the opposite side of the desk, you took the liberty in sitting down. Psychologically speaking, you were trying to reduce his control of the space. With the room being his office, you understood that he felt some possessiveness of the room and expected complete control of the people who were in it. Taking a seat without his invitation and without asking permission was in direct conflict of his control.

“So, now that I am considering agreeing with you, who or what do you want me to steal?” Calm and collected, you propped your elbows on the desk and leaned forward, staring straight to his dark, beady eyes.

With a deep breath, he reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a folder. It was a plain manila folder with papers seemingly stuffed haphazardly into it. They seemed to be from various sources.

“The target is a hard drive that the government owns containing all the evidence they have regarding BigHit’s illegal activities.” His teeth gritted slightly as he spat the words out. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out exactly how much that fact displeased him.

The real question was why he would want to steal it. Considering the organization is still running and angry protestors, the government hadn’t released the information so what was the point in having – and then it hit you.

“They’re blackmailing you! Oh, that’s adorable!” Leaning back in the upholstered chair you cackled at the idea of the playground politics going on around you. The corners of your eyes crinkled in the most childish way but the glint cut through the boys like steel. They hadn’t learned much about you in these last few days that you had stayed with them, but what they did come to understand is that you prescribed to your own definition of the world in a way that was admirable.

The grimace that came over the boss’s face was forced. In the depths of his eyes, you could see that you had struck a nerve with him. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to show any remorse. True, he was not the exact man that had doomed your family, but considering his position, he had tom have been around for it and that still blacklists him in your book.

“So where is this supposed hard drive, or do I have to do all that for you as well,” you questioned him. From the chair, you watched as he got up and retrieved a manila folder from a file cabinet.

It was stuffed with multiple documents from various sources, some pages were torn and yellowing at the edges. Others were crisp and white, but each was carefully tucked away into the folder.

With reluctance, he handed the folder to you. In a way you expected more attitude from him, but that only proved to you how much BigHit needed you to help them. If these guys were willing to tuck their tails between their legs then this must be serious indeed.

Still, they deserved no sympathy from you; none of the men in this room deserved any empathy from you for that matter.

He waited as you gingerly opened the folder and quickly scanned through the documents in front of you to get an idea of what you were going to be dealing with. 

[PJM]

The room was quiet as Eli breezed through the haphazard scraps of paper before him, blue eyes shifting from left to right as he took in the information that the papers would have to offer. For a moment, I wondered what was going on in his head as he put together an image of the task in his head.

As much as I hated to admit it, I would have no choice but to listen to the head of blonde curls in the future. I may be able to obtain the equipment and set it up, but Eli would have the plan that would, hopefully, keep them all alive.

In the last few weeks, I had kept my distance from him, or as Jin hyung liked to call it, denial of the interloper that had made himself at home with is. This had also given him a chance to observe Eli from afar. The boy, for that was really what he was, had been boiled down to just being stupidly lucky, and knowing it. He courted death like an old friend, expecially with the workout stunt he pulled. Sure, the task itself wasn’t that hard when taking into the account the gap between the two opposite walls, but that wasn’t even taking into account the mental acuity it would take to come up with something like that on the fly.

I looked up at the quiet sigh that left Eli. He smiled softly, as if the papers were an old friend.

“It’s impossible.” 

What he was sending the boys on, was a proverbial suicide mission.

“What?” The man behind the desk paled for a moment, and you could almost see the sweat starting to grow around his hair line.

Holding back a growl, you tried to enunciate every single syllable to make it easier for him.

“It is im-poss-i-ble.” You focused your stare on him, refusing to back down. “These boys may be willing to put their lives on the line for you, but I’m not going to.”

“You have no choice,” the man spit out through gritted teeth. His fists clenched against the wood of the desk. “You either help us or you die.”

“And who’s gonna kill me? You? With the gun in your top-left drawer? Or one of the boys behind me? Who I’m gonna be keeping alive in this death trap,” you spoke, shaking the folder for further emphasis. Despite wanting to continue to push your acting skills, you let it be for now. “Still, I’ve taken a liking to them, so I’ll do it.” Getting up, you turned your back and started walking out, ending the conversation on your terms. 

[KNJ]

“He’s taken a liking to us? Since fucking when,” Jin whispered to me as we walk out of the office. It wasn’t commonplace for hyung to curse, but there was really no better way to express it. Since we had first met him, one of us had been at his throat constantly. Heck, Jungkook tried to shoot him that first night and damn near made him fall 50 stories that first morning.  

But he lied.

Looking up ahead, I watched Eli as he lead our little pack with his head buried in the back in the folder as he took a more careful look at all the information in there Behind him, Jimin kept a watchful eye on Eli as he moved on auto-pilot through the building. Then again, that is the wonder of a thief’s brain. Memorization and quick thinking tend to come easier to them.

I followed the boys into the car, waiting for someone, mostly Eli, to break the silence. He brought back that sad smile that he had on in the office before.

I shrugged out an answer for Jin as we got to the receptionist and the front door, “Who knows? For now, we just do what we do best. Play along and take precautions.” 

“I pity you all sometimes.” His voice was quiet and pensive, fingers still moving as they flipped through the pages on his lap.

“We don’t want your pity, so stop.” Jungkook’s voice was low and forceful. It made sense, he was a warrior and pity was weakness.

“You still haven’t learned, have you? I make my own decisions.” Eli’s voice never wavered in spite of the glare that Jungkook was shooting at him. “Anyways, I wasn’t lying when I said that he was sending you on a suicide mission. This is going to take a lot of training and coordination between the lot of us, so if you want to stay alive Kookie, I suggest you and Jimin start listening to me instead of fighting.”

Eli’s voice never wavered once, nor did his eyes leave the papers spread out on his lap. Despite this, the boys could see the way his eye trembled. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t seeing them. He was seeing the layout of the building and the way the operation would carry out.

The ride after that was silent, save for Eli asking for a pen from one of the boys as he jotted down notes on the manila folder. The chicken scratch was in shorthand, so none of the boys could read it, and they tried.

“Is that even English,” Taehyung questioned as he looked on over one of Eli’s shoulders.

“A variation of it yes,” Eli chuckled, and for the first time tore his eyes away from the documents. “Though I doubt you’re understand it.”

The other boys were silent as they watched the interaction between the two. Eli had always been slightly on edge around the boys, but for a bright and shining moment as he laughed, he relaxed.

Taehyung looked back into Eli’s eyes, bright and blue and clear, and smiled. It was the same smile he used on girls in the club, wide and white and big. “Teach me?”

“I can’t.”

Taehyung felt the world around him crack.

“It’s converse. Only thieves know it and none of you are thieves.”

The world cracked a little more. “I am a thief for your information. I have stolen more wallets and phone then years you’ve been alive.”

“What you are is a pickpocket. There is more art to being a con than that,” Eli mused as he gave off a melancholy sort of smile. “Material theft is nice an all, but there are far more interesting targets on a person; their thoughts, ideas, dreams.” A pregnant pause as all the boys listened despite their best efforts. “Their love.”

The seriousness with which he had thrown out that last item threw them all for a loop. Silence reigned as they all focused on the implication of his words. They didn’t have any time to respond as the car slower to a stop in front of their high-rise home.

Stepping out first, Eli did not hesitate in trudging ahead, through the doors and towards the elevators. Following him, with a more subdued pace were the boys, their conscious still turning over the words they had heard whilst on the road.

It raised more questions than it answered for them, yet that seemed to be the trend with Eli. Just when you thought you had figured him out, then he throws you for another loop or leads you by the hand down another rabbit hole of new mysteries. Infuriating as it was, somewhere deep down, the boys knew that they couldn’t blame him.

He only did what all good survivors of their dark world did; protect himself from others. If no one knows you, then they can’t hurt you. It was a hard lesson for some to learn, and those sods that didn’t, learned to face the consequences real quick.

The boys had seen more than their fair share of failures in their lifetimes, both their own and the shortcomings of others. They saw what was left of them when reality stripped them of their soul; it wasn’t a pretty sight to say the least.

The rest of the short walk to their front door was silent, each boy still having Eli’s words careening wildly through their heads. Eli immediately disappeared into his room, still scribbling his shorthand on the folder as he studied the notes in the folder.

The next morning, no one went for training or for a run. Eli hadn’t even come down for dinner the night before, choosing instead to lock himself in his room. He only deigned it important to appear for breakfast, dark circles just slightly more evident and ink blotches marring the baby soft skin of his hands.

He maintained a strict silence, maybe it was due to the stack of food, or it could be attributed to the cogs in his head that were still turning.

After mostly working his way through his plate, he took a sip of water and cleared his throat. From a silent breakfast, the others in the room turned to face him.

“It’s going to be rough, but it’s possible.” Setting down the silverware, Eli rubbed at his temples with his palms, continuing to speak into the silence with a slight muffle. “A shit ton of work, cooperation, and trust.”

“Trust,” Jimin nearly spat out. “You expect us to trust you?” Within his voice you heard all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t, but first and foremost, how could the boys trust you when that their entire lives centered around distrust.

All of them, especially Jimin, were wronged by the world until they learned to play their cards close to their chest and treat everyone as an enemy until they were proven a friend. This was the cruel reality when growing up as child of crime, expecially when being trained to reign over it.

Namjoon watched silently the showdown between you and Jimin. The tension between the two of you poignant enough to catch the attention of the others who may have otherwise been preoccupied with their breakfast.

He only sipped on his coffee silently as he contemplated what it would be like to function with you as part of his group. Being the defacto leader meant that he had the responsibility of understanding the dynamics of the others and the risks of introducing anew member. From the get-go, their bond was impregnable, having grown up together and suffered through their lowest together.

“Yes I do.” Eli’s voice was hard and left no room for argument. “Because if we don’t then we’re all going to die.” The words somehow seemed colder coming from the man that they all found to have the sunniest disposition, even when facing the leader of the local underworld.

“Let’s get to work then.” Yoongi was the last person who you expected to stand up for you, but then again it also made sense. He was the investigative genius of the group, but he also seemed to have the most sense of self-preservation among the boys. Did he want to work with Eli? No. But did he need to? Yes, so why bother wasting time.

Eli only nods in response and makes his way briefly back to his room to grab some papers before joining the others who had migrated into the living room. Spreading the papers on the coffee table, you begin to explain the death trap BigHit had assigned you all to rob.