bruno mars? peter gene hernandez? born october 8th 1985? my lil dad? lil father? lil man? whom i love with his whole 3'2 tall ass? whom i would die for? n take a 24k gold bullet for? every day? For 24 days? Every day week month year and century?
A/N: Okay, my first series (since Snowfall All Year is only a two parter I need to finish) I’ve been wanting to write a mafia!au for the longest time, and I am crazy late on the trend but fuck it. Hope y’all enjoy and give me some love!
Pairing: Mafia boss! Yoongi x reader (hopefully it’ll stay that way)
Word count: 2.7k
Genre: Angst, fluff, maybe some smut
Summary: Some things in this world are dangerous, and you, him, and the world you once lived in that now belongs to him are just some of many you can’t be free from, but do you even want to be?
“It’s time to go now, y/n.”
1, 2, 3, 4
“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”
1, 2, 3, 4
“The color red doesn’t suit this house well.”
1, 2, 3, 4
“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Mun Byungyeol and his daughter, the, as ordered to remain anonymous, green haired 13 year old. Colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist…”
1, 2, 3, 4
“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with mafias and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”
You inhaled deeply, as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique therapy drilled into you.
Four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, a world you had to feign blind to now.
Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something.
Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. Looking at the time, you decided it was time to get ready for your study session with Jungkook.
Jungkook was a guy in the same university as you, he was older, but you were a year ahead, so you were in the same class. He was your neighbor in this adequate apartment complex that you kept via a crappy waitressing job. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night.
You weren’t exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn’t be such a crime.
You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, “The green didn’t suit me well at all,” You mused, fixing your natural shade of hair, “Although the forest green was a nice shade on my skin.”
After gathering your study material, Jungkook knocked on your door and you studied like usual. He would always get distracted halfway through, though.“Why do you still have the news on?”
You looked at the TV and shrugged.
“I guess I forgot,” You spoke, “Now what did you think this-”
“Mafias and gangs…” He mused, “Aren’t they the same?”
The pencil in your hand stilled. Absolutely not. Gangs were pawns, the mafias in this world were the players. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside a casual park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them.
“Like I care.”
“You aren’t scared of these guys at all?”
“Failing class is scary, that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of getting a D for my semester grade.”
Jungkook stifled a laugh, “I’m thanking every divine being if I pass, but it’s worth it as opposed to only studying and working.”
You rolled your eyes, “Sorry I’m not a child of the night.” Not anymore, at least.
A few days later exams went well for you, and you finished your semester and had a solid two months off. All was well and it was peaceful in the dead of night.Too bad your body rejected sleep.This week was a big week.
“Dad?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what’s to come, “Tell me you didn’t.”
Mun Byungyeol was a rough man who took you in as a young child. His men killed your parents for revenge and a nearly-dead 3-year-old suffering from starvation and cigarette burns was found at the scene. Initially resistant to your arrival, he got right to training you to be the heiress to replace the heir he never received.
He may have been rough, but he was a caring dad, even if you had never been his priority.
Not unless you could be used as currency.
“Y/n, it’s time for us to go,” He sighed, “I let this greed consume me, and I’m afraid it’s begun eating me alive now.”
Your mind couldn’t comprehend his words. The news was drowning out the comfort he attempted to give you. “…such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous mafia activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made or criminal investigation on Mun Byungyeol himself, but many workers are being targeted due to possible involvement…”
Everything was dying. All your training was never for anything but fuel for his greed. You should be angry, shocked, appalled, but you weren’t. He’s been cashing out for so long on the blood of his family and foes that you didn’t even flinch when he said it. You did, however, flinch when the whole world highlighted it.
“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work, but you and I won’t meet for a few years-”
He was going to abandon it. Cash out one last time, and leave. You were too surprised, you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. Your eyes widened at the notion of him abandoning you too. All you knew was his presence. All you knew were your father figures, “But the empire-”
“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.”
You didn’t scream, yell, or cry. At least you hadn’t, yet.“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.
“A real syndicate.”
“Who will stay with me?”
He smiled warmly at you for the third time in your life, “One day, a real human.”
You woke up with a start from a bang on the door, but considering the 4 am hour, you chalked it up to city noise. Five years ago today, you saw the match light. In two days, it will have been five years ago you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.
The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings.
The only reason you were aware of their presence was because getting out of the game was easy, but you could never fully burn the console.
Another bang on your door startled you out of your thoughts, “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go alone to the bar before such a big day- where are your keys?!”
An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.
“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!”
This wasn’t the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, most likely bleeding on your doormat. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch.
“Is this even your door?! Did you lead me to one of your whore’s places?!”
“Bangtan!” Jungkook chanted in response.
This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a blonde haired man in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The blonde-haired handsome man stopped struggling with Jungkook as he looked at you with the most pristine judging face, “Look, just forget we were-”
“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.
“He lives next door,” You remarked flatly, “No, I’m not one of his whores, more like one of his classmates, but I’ve seen those lines get blurred with him a lot, so I understand the assumption,” You looked at his forehead again, “And he does need stitches.”
The man narrowed his eyes, “Do you usually play nurse for him?”
“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You angled your head down for the man to see, “Bring him in, you aren’t the first friend of his I’ve met-”
“Anymore blood on that mat and I’m making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”He complied to the couch,
“Why does he-”
“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, “And I can’t stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.
“Aren’t you scared he’ll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.
You scoffed, “The only thing that scares me are failing grades.” You chuckled, “Plus Jungkook hurting me? Yeah, right. He has the fight of a peanut.”
Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.
You paused for a moment, “Didn’t you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”
“None of your concern,” He stated.“You’re bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “The other two told me their first names at least.”
You thought back to the much pluckier and grateful Taehyung and Jimin as they smiled at you before taking Jungkook away.
He sighed, “Namjoon-”
You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the struggling as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast, and Namjoon ended up watching in awe as you fearlessly slammed your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.
“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”
Your arm had a gash the length of a half ruler, it was shallow, but still dripping blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, jackass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.”
Namjoon was beginning to suspect you were more than a college student. With the sheer fearlessness and those fighting skills, you had to be something or someone who was anything but a regular student. Upon this realization, he then felt enormous regret wash over him for telling you his name. Yoongi would be livid if the empire was affected by Namjoon’s poor judgment, even in the most minuscule of ways. This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You seethed as you released him, “Care to explain yourself?”
Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.
“None of your concern,” You mocked, “Now take your sloppy friend, an alcohol pad and go-”
Your anger was cut short by a cloth that smelled an awful lot like chloroform engulfing your senses and releasing you from consciousness.
A/N: Hello hello hello! My power only came back on about three hours ago and the first thing I did was write this because I’m a dweeb lol. IDK how many parts this is going to be, we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it. Anyway, I’m going to go sleep for a million and a half years. Enjoy!!!!
Thomas Jefferson was a name you had heard too many times to count.
A pompous, indignant, rich prick in a magenta suit – or so you had been told. His reputation was widely-known, though, it wasn’t like you were the only one who knew who he was. No, the Jefferson family was a popular and feared household that had worked in the law business for over nine decades.
Anyone who was anyone knew the name, and either brightened or cowered at the sound of it.
Alexander and John, however, were by no means afraid of him, nor did they like him. In fact, it was well known around the office that Alexander would rather chug a whole cup of bleach than speak to Thomas for even thirty seconds. He would come home from a long day of work looking absolutely disheveled and yet somehow still have the energy to rant and rave and fume about how bad this man was at his job.
John had a much calmer approach, but still said that he would, given the chance, gladly hurl Thomas into the sun. Laf worked on a completely different branch than John and Alex but had still had enough encounters with Jefferson to learn the American phrase ‘shit-faced motherfucker’ just to call him that behind his back. Hercules didn’t even work with the rest of the boys, but he still managed to be the one Jefferson came to for all his clothes. He swore that the man only wanted magenta suits with black trim because he knew how hard it would be to get the fabric like that.
You were the only one to hate the man without knowing his face.
“He’s nothing but a douchebag with enough money to buy Canada.” Alex huffed, pulling his hair into a floppy bun in front of the mirror.
You flattened down your dress, one of the ones Herc had made that made your boys practically salivate to see you in, and fixed your hair slightly. Alex broke his intense gaze with his hair in the mirror to look back at you, his jaw dropping as his eyes skimmed up and down your figure.
“Damn, (Y/N), you look…” He swallowed thickly, voice dropping to a growl. “Edible.”
You giggled slightly. “No touching.” He deflated slightly, pouting. “I have to look good for your friends.”
“I’d hate to think you’re implying my male colleagues, (Y/N).” He smirked, coming to stand behind you and watch your reflection over your shoulder.
“Why, Mr. Hamilton,” You put on your best southern accent, placing a hand over your heart and dropping your jaw as you looked back at him. “Are you saying I would dress this way for anyone but yourself and our lovely boyfriends?”
He smiled dopily, resting his chin on your shoulder and snaking his arms around your waist.
“God, I hope not.” He pressed a quick kiss to your mouth and ran off before you could yell at him for smudging your lipstick.
As you pelted from the room behind him, Laf stepped out from the guest room across the hall, half dressed with his bow-tie dangling, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up, spinning you around. You giggled as you struggled, trying to get to Alex, but Laf only held you closer to his body.
“Laf put me down! I have to make Alex pay for messing up my makeup!”
A squeak sounded from the kitchen, and Alex’s voice was heard, “Hide me, John!”
Laf only chuckled, setting you down to turn you to face him, smiling at you as your eyes darted to the side, as though you were trying to see where Alex went. Laf tutted and took your chin gently, moving your head to make you look at him. You stopped trying to move away as his sparkling eyes met yours; your heart melting a little as he slowly retracted his hand.
His eyes moved to your lips, and he gave a soft smile.
“You are still as beautiful as the day we met.” He mumbled, running his thumb over your cheek. A blush spread out over your cheeks and you shuffled slightly, bathing in his compliment.
“Well, so are you, Frenchy…”
He chuckled at that, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, leaning in close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your ear.
“Go get him, sweetheart.”
You broke into a grin and took off towards the living room as Laf chuckled, ducking back into the bedroom to finish getting dressed. You stopped as you entered, almost running straight into John, who stood in the middle, smirking and doing up the buttons on his jacket, avoiding your gaze.
“Hey, Jacky…” You asked breathlessly, looking around for any sign of Alexander. “Have you seen Alex?”
“Alex?” He asked, confused. “I don’t know any Alex’s.” He shrugged, his gaze not breaking from the TV in front of him, playing some game that he was pretending to be interested in.
You gave a breathless sigh. “John, where is he?”
“Alex… I’ve heard that name before. Alex-is? Alex-andria? Alex-andro? Nope, nothing rings a bell…” He shrugged, tucking his tie into his vest and turning to you. He did a double take as his eyes trailed down your figure, but he was quick to snap his gaze back to your face.
“You sure you don’t want to tell me where Alex is, Johnny?” He bit his lip as you got closer to him, placing your hands on his chest and sliding them up to his shoulders. You had to get on your tip-toes to reach his ear, but as soon as your teeth nipped at his earlobe, his knees were weak, and you could reach his head with ease. “Or am I going to have to make you?”
You could hear him swallow thickly as he stood back up, looking down at you as your lips trailed down his neck, hitting the sweet spot and making him gasp.
“B- Behind the curtains.” He whimpered, screwing his eyes shut as your teeth grazed his skin. You looked behind him, and sure enough, there was a lump behind the curtain.
You smirked against his collarbone, nose brushing the nape of his neck as you slowly pulled away from him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek like nothing had happened.
“That’s it?” He asked, looking like a lost puppy as he held onto your hand so you wouldn’t leave.
You smiled, winking at him as you let go.
“You’ll get the rest later.” A pink blush crept out over his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck, walking off towards Laf’s room.
Inseong: Promotes you like crazy on twitter even on fnc official twitter like ‘VOTE Y/N TO DEBUT SHE’S NOT FROM FNC BUT SHE CAN DANCE SING AND RAP WHAT CAN’T SHE DO, Y/N-Ah LET’S DEBUT! Is extra af and hands out fliers to people in his company and even his group members. Spend an hour one time around the neighborhood passing out fliers there too. Even handing out fliers during fansigns to fans.
‘Vote for y/n please’
Youngbin: “YOUR WHAT?” is shooked af and happy but also very conflicted because he sort of don’t want you to go on it. Knows how stressful and difficult it is to go on a survival show so he makes sure to have a deep talk with you about how it will go down and also give you tips on how to stay awake, and manage yourself through the journey since he won’t be able to contact you later when you’re in it.
Jaeyoon: LITERALLY Your number one fan, promotes you through his vlives, radio shows, and makes the members watch every episode with him. However the type to laugh and tease you when you do something embarrassing on the shows and will not let you live.
Jaeyoon: “Oh my god a fan submitted a post and they said they were there for the live show that hasn’t aired yet, and during the stage performance y/n slipped and fell on her ass.”
Chani: shouldn’t you be worried…. *not shooked whatsoever*
Dawon: Already a step ahead of you/ knew already you were gonna be placed on the show by your manager/ already making banners/ sent out a promotion video on your behalf/ basically your second manager. Legit comes out with a vlive after every week’s new episode airing to promote you.
“Y/N/ Fnc Trainee, Age-it doesn’t matter, she’s beautiful and youthful, talented, can sing, dance, rap, she’s fit to debut. Let’s help her debut national producers.”
Rowoon: THe cutie will fully support you even though he’s basically sweating and going through a massive anxiety every week hoping you don’t ever get eliminated. Will asks all the members to vote with him (lowkey even his family members too and his members family members) will be at home anxiously waiting for the new episode to air on tv like “I hope she gets to perform the song of her choice, this could be a good chance for her to get to the top 11″
Zuho: Basically his whole life is being your fanboy but isn’t a fan of the show. Literally hates you for being on the show because he hates mnet in general and knows how bad the evil editing is. Goes to all of your live performances even when he has a busy schedule because he isn’t patient enough to wait until the show airs, he legit has to be there to support you but when he does watch the show, he’s just complaining. “Why isn’t she getting any screen time and whenever she does, why does she always look angry all the time aissh what is this.”
Taeyang: Lowkey a wrecking mess because he’s scared you’re gonna get traumatized from being on the show. Is scared everyday you’re gonna get eliminated or drop in rank. The members are watching the show with him anyways because they want to, but to calm down his own nerves, he constantly annoys them like “IS everyone watching, everyone you all have to watch and vote on time ok. Oh god, I’m gonna throw up. If she gets eliminated I’m gonna flip my shit and I might cry everyone prepare.”
Hwiyoung: This happy virus is confident and trust in you that you will do well which you end up doing every week and he’s just there all smiles after watching your every episode like “Y/N NUMBER 1. THATS MY GIRl OH YEAH LEGENDS ONLY. Y/N LETS DEBUT!!”
But every time you drop in rank or even just drop to a number 2, he’s like super emo.
“What did y/n do to deserve this, it doesn’t make sense. Someone must have gotten lazy, which one of you forgot to vote last week?”
Chani: Another Fanboy, Goes to all your live performances and is super happy and optimistic. He knows you’ll debut sooner or later even if you do get eliminated but based on your skills and looks, he knows for sure you’ll stay in top 11. Lowkey goes to these events knowing people will recognize him so he tries to keep a calm and chic image but when he sees your stans holding your banners, he gets so happy and has conversations with your fans in the crowd and is equally just as excited as them. Cheers and yells your name in the crowd while holding your merch. Never gives up on you, and since he can’t contact you, he makes sure to always try to get you to notice him when he goes to see you perform.
my bitchass self learned a thing or two about plot holes, consistency, and shit so i’m revising and reposting the rising. chapters 1 & 2 are back up. find them here: Ao3 | FF
oh and here’s the description:
Three years after Fire Lord Ozai’s defeat, Zuko’s reign is threatened by the Raiders, a rebel group seemingly tied to his family’s dark past. With the help of Katara, Zuko leaves his home in pursuit of answers and peace. But, does the truth really set you free? (Comics don’t exist)
Mature: Descriptive violence, strong language, dark themes, & sexual situations
We should get jerseys, ‘cause we make a good team
But yours would look better than mine, ‘cause you’re out of my league
And I know that it’s so cliche to tell you that every day
I spend with you is the new best day of my life
omg maybe the best pot date ever
young : cute : knows some NFL'rs : so nice : agreed to my allowance and slipped this in my hand after our date. I hope this works out I’d be willing to make him my 1 n only sd 🎀