I'm so ready to write the frick out of this story, you have no idea. Genres: Mafia (that's a genre, right?), Romance, Action Warnings: Rated... let's say 15+ for violence, adult themes, and language... and then 42+ for adult scenes. No worries, young internet dwellers; I will provide a trigger warning for any explicit scenes. Before you ask, yes, the entirety of GOT7 and BTS is in this story. And there will be more than one romance! ...you'll see who's involved. Let's do this!
You walked down the street, a seeming black and white lane. The city was never lifeless, even at that hour, but to you, the crowds and colors got old. It wasn’t the first time you ventured off your family’s grounds in the middle of the night; you considered yourself a professional at sneaking out after years of doing it. But seeing the same sights again and again each time was rather repetitive and dull, no matter how beautifully strung the lights donning the city were. You stuffed your hands into your pockets, mindlessly scuffing your shoes against the curb as you waited to cross the roadway. Too many people; always too many people. The city was full of them, the never-ending sea of ants, who lost their souls in their fame and wealth. It always made you scoff; your family was no different. Coming from generations of mafia men— orchestrated sometime in the 20s— you found yourself sticking out like a sore thumb in the Family who wore their dated name with pride. The “L/N”s. The Family had created quite a record for itself through the many years since establishment, not only in the underground world of drugs and forgery, but up top where even the highest of officials tried to steer clear. It had its ups; being the big dog in the modern age. Though, you rarely made use of the privileged lifestyle; it all seemed too easy, like you had nothing to work for… nothing to do. Which is why it was always boring to stay on the Family’s turf, holed up in a mansion with a room far too large to be comfortable in. You crossed the street, careful to keep your chin down under your hood when passing a group of Baddies. That’s what you liked to call them. They were the guys who dressed fancy but were ridden with the smell of blood. Probably perps from some other gang family in the district. You were always told to avoid them, and despite your late night escapades that were against Family code, that was one rule you always obeyed. They were no-good-doers, and it wasn’t too hard to pick them out in a crowd; you just had to look for the murder in their eyes. Of course, it helped you were used to seeing those eyes in your own Family, too. When you were clear of them, you continued your aimless trek, stepping farther and farther from the city life. It was definitely stupid and dangerous to be out there alone, but that was the thrill of it; anything could have happened. Anything that would take you away from your normal life of being spoon-fed diamonds on an obsidian tray. You laughed. It wasn’t far off from that, yeah. A whiff of gray smoke caught in the air, the end of a cigarette smoldering from an alleyway to your left. The figure was a lurking shadow, a veil of mysterious darkness against the brick wall, hardly distinguishable in the moonlight. You didn’t need the attention coughing would bring you, so you bit back the need to cleanse your lungs and held your breath as you passed. Disgusting stench. “It’s not so bad.” You flinched, boots coming to a standstill. ... What? Was he talking to you? “After all, a girl like you is bound to be used to it by now, right?” The voice was deep, raspy... something you’d expect from a back alley bum. But something in his tone made you think he was far from that. You saw the shadow move in the corner of your eye, a hint of fear seeping in as you heard he was approaching. The silhouette wore a hat, those old fashioned bowler caps you saw in crime movies, his coat long enough to catch in the wind. “A girl surrounded by big men with big mouths...” You turned your head slightly, fingering your hood to see him slink his lanky, cloaked body out from the lair of darkness. He chuckled hoarsely, but you couldn’t see the crooked grin that must have been on his face. “Big wallets too.” And, after it all, it didn’t take a genius to assume the flash of silver in his palm was a switchblade, a steel stiletto in the moonlight. He lunged at you faster than you could respond, gangly arms wrapping around you as one gloved palm covered your mouth and the other drew a prick of blood from your neck, the arc of the blade pressed against your exposed skin as you struggled to focus on how to escape. “Though I suppose they smoke sweet, rich cigars instead, right?” His voice was in your ear, his form overpowering you entirely. You fisted his hand, a futile attempt to lessen the pressure. “Be a good girl, and you won’t spill any more blood tonight.” This asshole. You spewed obscenities into his hand, trying to bite through the cloth, to no avail. “All I want is your daddy’s payment. Like he promised.” Payment? Your father owed? Impossible, he may have been the most well-known mob boss, but he was also a proper businessman. He always did his part of a deal, no need for the other party to retaliate in such a manner. In disbelief, you found yourself angry, finally regaining from your initial shock. You thought through the scenario of escape in your head, rethinking it when the grip around your shoulders grew tighter. But if that were the case... He was leaning forward, to cower over you, meaning one leg was supporting more body weight than the other, giving him that height advantage. Your eyes glanced down, just enough to confirm your suspicions; as his back heel was raised, his front leg was bearing most of his balance. That was it; that was your point of attack. With a sharp intake of breath, and preparation, you kicked a foot right into his straightened knee, a sickening pop sounding with the impact. He groaned, falling back, and you tore through his loosened limbs. “You bitch!” He swiped at you in your evasive maneuver, managing to slice the top layer of skin on your forearm through your hoodie, but you gritted your teeth through it, charging down the sidewalk you first came. “Get back here!” “No! Skinny-ass jerk!” You ignored him as he called after you, racing back to the crowded streets of the lively city. “Ah shit,” the cut on your arm was beginning to sting, but you refused to stop, footsteps light against the concrete. When you disappeared from sight, hidden amidst a flamboyant crowd, you slowed, hands on your knees. You didn’t realize how far you had waltzed, and it was careless of you. But... was this the thrill you were seeking? You forgot the last time your heart beat so fast, or you were THAT out of breath. In the end, your body shaking as you regained stamina, you were smiling. Still weird though; what did he mean by payment? That’s definitely never happened before. And how did he know it was you? You laughed softly, probably a bizarre sight from the onlookers, but you suddenly froze upon hearing a familiar voice. “Y/N?” Oh, shit. Steaming pile of shit. Of all people to find you. You looked up through your tendrils of fallen hair, realizing your hood had flown back through your sprint. Then, you met the eyes of the man sternly gazing down at you. “Oh... Hey there.... Junior..." You stood up, a wry smile on your face, your eyes reflecting innocence so maybe the compassionate side of him would spring out and embrace you and tell you you’re loved. But Junior didn’t play that way, especially when he was mad. And he was undeniably infuriated. Junior, your father’s right hand man; he guarded the big boss man, even assisting in business deals. Your father’s most trusted, loyal servant. Also responsible for single handedly taking out one of the Lessie Family’s bases with a single bowey knife. You gulped. “What brings you out here tonight?” You sheepishly laughed, though, he, with his fiery glaring eyes, was silent. This won’t be fun. ~~~ “—What were you thinking?! Not only are you an idiot, but you’re an idiot who was almost killed!” Your father paced the floor as you twiddled your thumbs. Yeah, but it was also kind of cool. Not that you’d say that, though. He was fuming. “How many times have you gone out behind my back? Ten? Twenty? Thirty goddamn times?!” “Thirty-two, actually...” He stopped to glare at you, the bald spot on his head glinting under the main hall’s lights. You swallowed thickly. “Ah, sorry, continue.” You were standing with a slumped posture, being scolded for the first time in years. Junior stood at your side, his stature poised and hands together behind his back. He had taken you in without a word, having spotted you by chance when he was out for a walk; he knew you were aware of the earful you’d earned. “Not only were you endangering yourself, but you were endangering the entire Family! Do you realize how important it is we don’t let anyone get the best of us? That is how enterprises fall! But you and your little stroll risked the entire name of this mansion!” At this point you were getting tired of what the old man had to say, frustration boiling within you. You bit your lip to keep from saying anything you’d regret, but Junior must have noticed. He bumped your elbow, and you glared up at him, lips pouted. “Listen to what your father has to say.” He stated quietly, simply, and had he not been so good looking, you would have been more tempted to slap him. This was getting out of hand. You already learned your lesson, the blood dripping down your sleeve being more than enough a reminder to know what you did was wrong. You interrupted your father with a raised voice, “I understand, it will not happen again!” The room fell silent, and you realized your eyes were closed. You opened them to a look of surprise on the old man’s face. Had you ever been so loud? You cleared your throat, but didn’t stand down, the annoyance within you taking a clutch to your pride. “It was my mistake, and I do so believe constantly preaching about the Family’s name will do no better than simply telling me not to do it again.” Wow, you actually did it. Even Junior looked surprised in your peripheral. And your father—well he was at a loss of words. You stood up against the most powerful man in the district, not as daughter to father, but as peasant to king. You have never seen that look on his face; it was that of shock, and then even more anger than before, but he took a long drag on his cigar, eyes boring into you the entire time. It looked as though he’d leave it at that, relaxing with the exhale of gray cloud. And he did. He ordered Junior to escort you to your room, and the both of you turned to head up the stairs before you found yourself pivoting to face him, a sudden question ringing in your ears. “Father—the man who attacked me..." he was going to use me to bargain you for money. He said you owe him a payment. Do you really owe people?” His bushy brows narrowed as a flash of some unidentifiable emotion swept over his features. “Leave the business talks to the big people, girl.” You almost gasped after he said it, never feeling so small in front of anyone ever before. He called you ‘girl’? Yeah, obviously, you were one... but... he never said anything like that. He spoke as though you were bloodlines apart, as though he were talking to a trash bin in the street. Junior wordlessly led you up the stairs after that, and you were left contemplating what may have been going on. Because something was definitely going on. ~~~ “What the hell was that about?” You muttered quietly, almost fearing the chance your father would hear you despite you being in your room. Junior silently dressed your wound, wrapping it firmly with gauze and medical tape as you sat on your bed. He wouldn’t say anything, but maybe if you... “Junior please tell me, what is going on? Why did that man go after me? How did he even know who I am?” You posed your questions with a tone that oozed authority; you were the daughter of his boss, time to act like it. “I have the right to know; my father’s business affairs affect my life as much as they affect yours.” His motions had stopped, and he looked at you darkly, almost as though he was silently telling you you’d get nothing from him. But he sighed, situating himself next to you on the bed. “The past few years, your father made little mistakes in who he was making deals with. Money was being exchanged between families in the district, like it always has been.” He took a breath. “But it fell through when some of his business partners ended up turning on one another. There was no way out of it, so he had to play the middle man until it was time to pick sides. Now that he has, we have more enemies.” It didn’t sound too drastic in your ears— mob families always had feuds— but another thought crossed your mind. “Which industry was the money for?” “Diamond.” “Oh fuck.” You now understood why it was a big deal; diamond was always a priority demand, especially for the higher ups. Trade was as fragile as quail eggs, though, despite who in the district was ready to kill if it meant they had the highest-valued currency. No wonder you were sought out. “And that man—do you think he was part of one of the families who’s against us?” “Probably. Or he could just be a drifter who snooped enough for the information. Whichever it is, if he claims your father owes him, he’s either acting on a personal grudge or the spokesperson to an entire family plotting against us. ” The thought had you shivering. You weren’t even born yet when the last mob war broke out between the “L/N”s and another family. Junior was young, even, so he only told you what he was told himself. That it had been utter warfare; blood stained the streets to this day, and half the mansion had to be rebuilt due to molotovs that burned it down. You couldn’t even imagine what destruction could occur with the weapon enhancements of today. “How did he know who I am?” You cocked your head, pondering it once again. “He must have intel on the Family members. Thought you were the best pick since you’re the youngest. Plus it wouldn’t have been hard to trail you or track you down, with all your evenings out.” The thought was creepy. How long had you been watched? Junior paused, a perplexed look on his face. “Whatever the case, go to sleep and stop thinking about it. Your father is doubling security in the yard, so don’t even think about leaving again.” He flicked your forehead and you stuck your tongue out at him, scooting backward on the king-sized mattress after he made way for the door. “One more thing, Y/N,” You looked up at him as you were pulling your undershirt over your head. “Don’t ask your dad anything else. Try to stay away from him for the next few weeks.” Confused, you went to question him, but he eyed your exposed abdomen and said, “Also cut back on the late night snacks. That scar looks like it’s stretching.” “Hey!” You chucked a pillow at the closing door, missing him by an inch. “Dammit..." Avoiding your father seemed unnecessary if all you had to do was refrain from asking about his business endeavors. Despite Junior filling you in, you still had a bad feeling. Maybe you were just tired. You kicked the covers until you were comfortable, and slowly fell asleep. ‘...we have more enemies... an entire family plotting against us...’ ~~~ You entered the dining hall the following morning, clothed for the day in casual baggy jeans and a white long-sleeved cotton top. Your father’s booming voiced echoed throughout the corridors, and you couldn’t tell if he was yelling or being overly enthusiastic with someone. It was the latter, though, you discovered upon turning the corner into the room with the twenty-four seating dinner table. At the end of it, a man you’ve never seen before laughing with your father. He didn’t seem to be one of the intimidating mobsters who walked in for meetings from time to time. Instead, he was shorter, his physique still sturdy, though, under his suit jacket. He was dressed as fine as any other higher-up in the district, but the pin on his chest was out of the norm. You went bug-eyed when you recognized the symbol, but Junior nudged you forward, and you yelped, catching the attention of the two men at the table. “Good, Y/N. I’d like to introduce you to someone.” You shot a warning look over your shoulder to Junior, but he returned it with the same intensity. ‘Try to stay away from him for the next few weeks’. You cleared your throat, trudging forward to meet the mystery man. His black hair was neat but rough, maybe a bit unprofessional although totally fitting to his handsome features. He looked better as you lessened the distance, until you were almost drooling under his captivating, almost playful, gaze. “Hello, Y/N. Your father told me all about you.” His voice was soft, a high tone you didn’t usually hear from men in this neighborhood. But you could tell there was more to this man than gentle, handsome looks, especially since he was at YOUR dinner table. Especially with that pin, even. “I wonder what he could have mentioned...” You spoke quietly, firmly shaking his offered hand. “Director Jimin Park. Glad to be in your company.” He smiled warmly, and I relaxed, tense shoulders dropping. Your father gestured you to sit, next to Junior who had yet to speak a word. The four of you in your spots, the discussion ensued. “Director Park is head of the district’s secret service organization,” Your father announced, the guest nodding in response. Your eyes flickered back to the symbol attached to his jacket, wondering why your father was inviting men of the government into the house of a family who thrived off fancy drug money. “I had a favor to ask of him, due to the fact we were on their good side during the last conflict.” Oh boy, what was this about? You hadn’t known that detail, silently meeting Junior’s eyes to see if he had any clue. He only shrugged, closed fist to his lips as he listened on. “That’s right. You don’t need to pretend you’re not part of a business dealing with drug cartel or sale of illegal weaponry,” The two laughed like old buds, even though Jimin had to have been at least two-and-a-half times younger than your dad. “It is my decision whether or not to see past that, and as your father said, I feel it is necessary to return a favor.” You felt your eyebrows knit in question. It only became more and more confusing. You would have to bug Junior about that favor later on, or someone else in the Family. Jimin then looked to your father, his perfect teeth lighting up the room. “As you requested, I have my best man on the way here now.” “I’m excited to see who it is. Maybe another set of eyes on her will help her understand her place in this household.” Your father replied, a cheeky smile on his face. They laughed again, and you grew impatient. “What the hell is going on? Who is coming?” You clutched the tablecloth, pitch rising with every syllable. Junior kicked your leg under the table, but you ignored him, eyes pleading for answers. You looked between the two; the stern eyes of your father, the kind, dark orbs of Jimin Park. “You won’t be alone and free to wander anymore, Y/N.” “He’s my most trusted man. He’ll keep you safe no matter what.” I grew desperate—was I the only one anxious? The doors to the dining hall opened with unnecessary force, all of us turning, eyes meeting the newcomer as he strode in with an airy saunter. “Ah—just in time. Y/N, this is your new babysitter.” BABYSITTER? “Babysitter?!” Junior kicked you again, but you stood up as you looked between all of them, then back to the blonde walking in, his lips tight, eyes dark and naturally daring. “Father! I do not need a babysitter!” You all but screamed, fists clenching as you forgot all table mannerisms and leaned forward, fingers gripping the cloth tighter. “Your actions last night beg to differ.” The blonde man had finally made it to the table, close enough for you to properly take in his good looks and conceited persona. You were mildly distracted from your anger, but you fumed when the guy looked down at you as though you were a petty rock amidst jewels. And in ways, you were proudly just that. But not when the man looked down on you as though you were a mere child. Before you could call him out on it, your frustration meeting entirely new levels now, Jimin rose from his seat, standing next to the blonde. “Y/N, meet Special Officer Jackson Wang; your new head of security. Or rather..." The Jackson man sent you a sharp glare. "Your new bodyguard.”
*whispers* youcanguardmybodyanyday Ahahahahahhaha I have never felt so meticulous. I felt like I just wrote out a movie script. And not a Michael Bay movie script. I'm talkin' Wes Anderson. I've got big plans, I'll tell ya. @TheEnlightment ;) Tell me if you want to be tagged! Stay tuned for the next one~