a harem of broken men

One of your regulars is a mob boss with an X-shaped scar across his face. Newbies aren't allowed to service him.

The reason is simple: Jonggun Park likes rough sex.

He also doesn't hold back. 

Countless women have left his room covered in bruises, welts and scars. Some even received wounds on their faces. You're one of the rare few who volunteered to be with him. Unlike the other girls, you don't have friends or family to fuss over your injuries, and you weren't popular, so it's only logical to keep him entertained so the more in-demand workers can focus on other clients. 

Your first time with Gun Park was an experience. You used to think that you weren't into rough sex, but maybe your previous partners weren't rough enough. 

Gun gave you a safe word, but you never felt like using it.

You love having his tattooed arm hooked around your neck as he pounds you from behind. You can't get enough of his deep, rumbly voice calling you his cheap whore. You can't help but smile when he sneers down at you. 

The morning after is always painful, but you find the ache delicious. 

But Gun has changed. When he calls for you, he doesn't throw you to the couch or bed the moment you arrive. He invites you to eat with him and asks if the bruises he gave you last time still hurt.

You weren't one to say no to a free meal but it was disarming to have Gun Park treat you like a person. Even more disappointing is how he has been fucking you less and less. During your last visit, he ate you out until you came, and then he fell asleep without entering you.

Is he getting bored? You hope not.

You find Gun's violence titillating.

On the other hand, there is this other client, a giant named Gitae Kim. He was your introduction to orgies. Well, more like a harem. The man loves women so much he sleeps with them in groups. You were nervous at first, but the other girls—your "seniors" so to speak—were very nice. They even told you that a group arrangement with one man and multiple women is relatively easier and leagues safer than anything else.

But for some godforsaken reason, Gitae Kim singled you out. The man who was obsessed with harems began asking for you and you alone. Your co-workers were terrified on your behalf and begged the madam not to send you to him, but everyone knew that they can't say no to a mobster, let alone the boss of an entire syndicate.

But surprisingly enough, despite his history of group sex, Gitae Kim was… kinda vanilla. He liked to watch you suck him off and bounce on his dick, but that was it. However, as the other girls pointed out, you were the only one who could keep up with his stamina. Perhaps that's why he preferred having multiple partners.

You really do wish he would get bored of you already, because you've long gotten bored of him. More importantly, the oversized thug has begun sending you flowers. In your line of work, that kind of attention is dangerous. Instead of flattery, the bouquets of blood-red roses only served to freak you out.

Speaking of  freak, your least favorite client was also your first one. A beautiful man known only to you as "DG." He has a face that could put movie stars to shame, and a body that would have Michelangelo's David shaking.

DG started gently. You thought for sure that he was going to be one of your more "normal" clients. It turned out to be the opposite.

Like Lucifer, he was deceptively sweet.

He's the biggest pervert you've been with.

One of his favorite activities is using you as white noise to help him focus—he would type on his computer as your muffled screams and sloppy sounds filled the air. Usually, he just plugged you with toys, your arms and legs tied together while you suffered through delirious agony. Sometimes, J would take over.

You prefer J over the toys.

He always shows up wearing a policeman's uniform (probably one of DG's sick fetishes, you told yourself). In contrast to DG who never stops smiling, J's face remains impassive. However, J is kinder.

You like how warm he is, how he asks "Are you okay?" as he fills you.

But you barely see him, especially now that DG has decided to start fucking you with his own cock.

Undercover cop Jichang tells Gitae Kim that you have nothing to do with this.

"Let her go? I think you got things backward." Gitae rips you away from the love of your life. Your back hits his chest and he caresses your throat. "She is reason why I kept you alive for so long."

"You son of a bi—"

"What do you want?" you whisper.

Gitae brushes his nose behind your ear. He inhales. "You know what I want."

Undercover cop Jichang yells at you to leave, at Gitae to let you go. But Gitae gets tired of his pleas and kicks him in the chest. Jichang throws up blood. Gitae doesn't care and lifts his leg again, aiming for his thigh. You wrap your arms around Gitae Kim and beg him to stop.

"I hate hearing men talk—it ruins the mood."

"Please stop!"

"I will. But you have to shut him up first," Gitae says, palming your sides tenderly, like he didn't just broke someone's ribs, "you know how, don't you, mi vida?"

Undercover cop Jichang is powerless as you tearfully stuff your panties in his mouth. You apologize over and over before Gitae tells you to stop it—

"He should be grateful. You're the only reason he is alive."

Undercover cop Jichang can only lie on his back while you get on your knees and unzip his pants. You lick and kiss him until he stiffens. You say sorry one last time before taking him in your throat. Jichang can feel your tears on his bare flesh.

Undercover cop Jichang can only utter muffled screams as Gitae Kim bends down behind you. You don't stop sucking your ex-husband, even when Gitae enters you.

Undercover cop Jichang forced to watch as the man he hates the most in the world fucks the only woman he ever loved.

Undercover cop Jichang finishes all over your face. You shut your eyes, but Gitae grabs your cheeks and forces you to look at your former husband. He picks up his pace, the tip of his cock is relentless as it bullies your cervix. You try your best to stay quiet. But he lets go of your hip and snakes his hand between your thighs.

You let out a pleasured scream. Gitae smirks. He twists your chin and kisses you while he stares directly at Jichang Kwak's horrified expression.

Gitae then pulls back and hooks his arms under your knees. Your own arms fold backward, holding onto his shoulders as he opens you up.

You wail and moan, too lost in ecstasy.

He kisses your cheek and tells you to come. Your body shakes but he doesn't stop pounding into you as you orgasm.

Undercover cop Jichang unable to look away as you squirt all over his face.

writing about the mafia takes me back to my Hetalia days. 😂 I was down bad for 2P!Italy and 2P!America, and HITMAN JONES JKHSDFKHDF he's basically an American Goo Kim

image sources:

Lookism - Webtoon

James Lee/Diego Kang Ep. 496, 491, 497, 359, 429, 601, 584, 588 & 536

You guys met during a low time in his life. His body was falling apart like it did at the end of the Hunt for Gun arc: busted eye, stab wounds everywhere, broken bones, left arm on the verge of needing an amputation—he was shaking so badly he couldn't even lift a cigarette. Despite his shadiness, you helped him anyway. Essentially, your love story began like it did between Tatsu and his wife in The Way of the Househusband.

Anyway, given his past and the nature of his work, Gun is overprotective of you, but he isn't controlling. Unlike Diego Kang, who loves you but treats you like a pet, Gun sees you as an equal.

He is always soft with you, but that's not him putting on a mask. It's because he finds himself less annoyed with the world when he is with you.

Due to the circumstances of your meeting, Gun couldn't lie about his job even if he wanted, but that doesn't stop him from hiding the darker parts of it; the parts that will definitely send you running. It's selfish, but he wants to stay by your side. He knows you're a good person, or at the very least a normal, decent person.

For your part, you're so devoted to Gun that you actively maintain your malicious ignorance. You ask about his day, but you don't pry. If you knew the true depths of his depravity, your heart would be torn apart.

TW: discussion of rough sex

SEX & INTIMACY HEADCANONS

He gets off on fighting powerful opponents, so he strongly associates sex with violence. Sex is demeaning names and hair-pulling, it's choking his partner from behind, it's smacking skin until it's raw. Sex is violence. Violence is his past, it is all that he has known; it's fighting for his life, it's taking out his anger on others, it's using force to get what he wants.

The women who've been with him wake up with bruises that are often mistaken to be from an abusive boyfriend. They find themselves laughing awkwardly as they try to clear things up.

So yeah, Gun likes rough sex. It was never a problem with his previous partners. He was a cold-blooded killer, but even he had lines he wouldn't cross, so those who didn't like it, were free to leave. Those who liked it, really liked it.

But now that he is with you, it's a big problem.

He couldn't perform during what should have been your first night together.

Even if you reassure him, even if you admit that you also like it rough, he still struggles to get it up.

You are the opposite of everything he has known. You're sweet, you're patient and you're pure. You gave him the normalcy he craved when he was younger, the life he thought he could never had, so how can he possibly lay his hands on you?

"Oh, honey, that's—"

"Embarrassing, I know. I'll see myself out—"

"No!" You grabbed his arms and force him to lie back on the bed. "I was going to say it's sweet."

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not." You giggle and guide his head to your chest. "We can take it slow. Together."

"…"

"Okay?"

He closed his eyes and sighed, "…okay."

Over the course of your relationship, you show him that sex doesn't have to be violent. Sex can be slow and gentle. Sex can be making each other laugh between kisses, it can be hugs when one is having a tough day.

It's impossible to completely wipe away his sadistic tendencies, but that's okay. A little rough loving keeps things interesting.

Those who knew him assumed he would marry some politician's daughter or a chaebol [1] heiress. It wasn't too far off from his original plans. He would have treated it as every other relationship he had: a transaction. He would be straightforward, clinical and pragmatic. His contract wife could take any and as many lovers as she wanted, but she must maintain the squeaky clean image of a devoted wife in public.

But Diego doesn't end up with anyone like that. He ends up with you. You come from neither a rich nor influential family, you're just you. His dogs, his rivals and his pawns thought their ears were clogged when they heard the news, but no one is more mystified, more confused than you.

When you first got together, you assumed your relationship with Diego had an expiration date, but when a gentle, well-off, seemingly perfect man asks you for a second date, what're you going to do? Say no? Of course not. You ignored the red sirens in your head and play along. You were content to live in a fairy tale for a few weeks.

As you two spend more time with each other, you wait for the other shoe to drop. You wait for quirks or red flags or dealbreakers. However, he's been nothing but annoyingly pleasant. He is patient even when in one of your moods. He is extra kind and extra accomodating when you are hating yourself.

If there is one thing you have to complain about Diego—and this is extreme nitpicking on your part—is that he is that he knows you better than you know him. He knows what to say (or not to say) to make you feel better. He orders your dishes for you and it's okay because they're exactly what you would have ordered anyway. When you go on dates, he always shows up matching your outfit even though you plan on surprising him. It's eerie. It's almost as if he can read your mind.

He always goes along with your hobbies, your hyperfixations and your interests. I'm not talking about a man pretending to be interested simply to satisfy his parter, Diego immerses himself in whatever fandom, lifestyle or culture you are part of. He forms his own opinions and engages with you.

He's perfect.

And yet, despite Diego reading you like an open book, you feel like you barely know him.

"What do you do for work, Diego?"

"I manage my own PR firm, but trust me it's not what it's cracked up to be. I don't want to bore you with the details. I'm much more interested in what you do."

He answers your questions but he doesn't like to linger on himself.

"How was work today, Diego?"

"Nothing special. People screw up and I have to cover up for them. How was your day, darling?"

His replies come off as curated. You can't even trust something as simple as his favorite color.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Pink."

His answer genuinely surprises you, so your mouth moves faster than you can think: "Serious?"

"Yes, serious." He smiles. "When I'm with you, it's like I see the world in rose-colored glasses."

"Come on, tell me the truth."

"I am telling the truth." He twirls you so your back is to his chest. He hums and begins to sway with you. "Hold me close and hold me fast~ The magic spell you cast~ This is la vie en rose~"

The weeks turn to months and he remains perfect. You have to actively remind yourself not to get too attached because there is no way he is real. When you can't take it anymore, Diego invites you for dinner. The atmosphere is different tonight. You ready your heart for goodbye, because even though you knew your relationship wasn't meant to be forever, you are still fond of him.

"Darling, there is something important I have to discuss with you."

This is it, you tell yourself, he's going to break up with me. "Okay."

"Will you marry me?"

You don't recall saying "yes." All you remember is Diego slipping the ring on your finger and kissing you.

No more than five minutes after his proposal, your phone buzzes as friends, family and co-workers congratulate you.

Mom: I'm so happy for you, dear! Aunt: Congrats! You're not going to end up as an old maid.

Random Co-worker: CONGRATS, GIRL! I was so scared you were going to die alone!

Friend #1: Fam, you gotta drop the love spell or whatever sorcery you used on your man. I NEED ME A MAN LIKE HIM.

Friend #2: You bitch, I thought we were gonna grow old together like Golden Girls minus the dead husbands! I could kill you ( ｡ •` ⤙´• ｡) Congratulations!!

If you haven't figured it now: Diego is controlling.

He's also addicted to you.

He has your place bugged, his men tail you 24/7, he paid to see your search history (he's seen everything) and if you have a physical diary that you wouldn't even share with your god, then I'm sorry but he has read that too. In fact, if you wrote about him, whether it be in a diary, journal or blog, he's going to make a copy of that excerpt and frame it in his office.

He likes you the way you are: a normal person. But as a normal person, you are someone who lives in the light—someone with scruples—which is why he wants to keep his real life a secret. If you knew, you would get scared of him. The days of your teasing and carefree laughter would come to an end. Or worse, you would run away. Well, you can try, but you won't get very far.

Diego would sooner break your legs than let you go.

However, he truly does love you, and he doesn't want you hurt. He does everything in his power to make sure you stay happy and ignorant.

A gilded cage. An invisible chain.

You just need to let him love you and all will be fine.

SEX & INTIMACY HEADCANONS

During the early days of your relationship, Diego's lovemaking was standard. Not boring, but vanilla. He held back as to not frighten you.

If you have any particular kinks that you are too shy to bring up to him, don't worry. He's seen your browser history. He'll suggest this one specific thing that, if you're comfortable with, he would like to try together. Of course, you jump at the opportunity and it takes everything he has not to burst out laughing at how adorable you are.

But enough about you, let's talk about Diego's preferences.

I've said it once, I'll say it again: Diego is a mean dom. But, hilariously enough, I think his mafia!self is a bit softer than his canon-adjacent self.

Even when he was holding back, there were times when he would lose himself and go from tender to rough mid-thrust. But if he discovered that you enjoyed getting manhandled, he'll happily oblige.

Toys and bondage. If you don't like one or the other or both, fine. He isn't an animal. But if he feels that you're even the slightest bit curious, all bets are off. He's going to test your limits. Diego will break you down and build you back up and you're going to think it was all your idea.

[1] Chaebol: A South Korean conglomerate, typically family-owned and family-controlled.

a/n: This turned out longer than I planned.

author's note: This was fun. I should write character analyses more often.

author's note: You can fight me on how they are sorted, but I will defend Gun's place in Ravenclaw (as long as I don't forget to post my explanation).

You shut your eyes.

Samuel's cologne was strong, it enveloped you, forcing you to focus on him. It was so different from Jake, who smelled like soap.

"Okay..." you breathed. "You can move."

Samuel looked doubtful. He then silently leaned into your neck, his breath tickling you.

You always thought Samuel would be a selfish, impatient lover, but his kisses were warm and kind.

You loosened with every peck.

"S-Samuel…?"

"You're still too tight." He continued with his kisses—his mouth touched everywhere except your own—until his lips latched onto your breast.

One calloused hand settled on the other side. His mouth and fingers played with your nipples until they became hard as pebbles.

Samuel let go of the breast he was sucking with a plop.

"Jake's an uptight bastard," he said, wiping his spit with the back of his hand, "he doesn't like discussing his sex life, even with Sinu, and he kicked out one of the members for asking if you were a virgin when you got married."

Samuel set both of his hands on your hips. He started moving again.

"I can't believe that same overprotective stick-in-the-mud would come to me, begging—"

you sucked in your teeth

"—to breed his sweet little wife."

You gasped—your thighs quivered as Samuel bottomed out.

"Fu…" he hissed, bending over. The veins on his arms and wrists visibly throbbed. His grip on you tightened briefly. He was doing everything he can not to hurt you.

"Are you sure about this?"

"It's what Jake wants. You've seen the way he looks at Yeonhui and Sinu's daughter… Adoption takes forever and I can't… I can't put us through all that waiting again—I can't—I can't—"

"Okay, I get it. Stop crying or he's going to think I'm insulting you."

"I'm sorry—"

Samuel rolled his eyes and handed you a box of tissues.

"Thank you, Sammy."

Jake only had one rule: Samuel couldn't kiss you on the mouth.

Samuel sort of understood the reasoning. You and Jake were romantics, this was his only reassurance that your heart would belong only to him.

It wasn't really a big deal. Kisses were nice, but Samuel didn't need them. That was always his philosophy, and yet, as he gazed down at your pretty, parted lips, with your tongue lolling out just slightly, he was overcome with the need to capture it with his own.

"Hah—hah—hah—"

You had one arm over your eyes, leaving only your panting mouth for him to admire. Samuel wondered if you were just as shy with Jake, but he wondered only briefly before shaking his head. You were avoiding looking at him, the sperm donor.

His chest ached.

He will never admit this in a million years but Samuel was jealous of you and Jake. He wanted to know what it was like to love someone so much that they would put that person's happiness over his own.

"S-Sammy, I'm—"

"I know."

Your legs were getting restless. He didn't really see the point in prolonging this, he knew that you would rather be with your husband, who was right outside, waiting for Samuel to finish.

He grabbed the back of your knees, pulled them up and picked up his pace.

"Hah—ahmn…!" you bit your fist. Muffling your moans so Jake wouldn't hear.

Samuel huffed. Figures.

You clawed onto his shoulder. Your toes curled behind him.

Samuel ripped his attention off your lips and focused on your bouncing chest instead. If this was successful, they would be swollen with milk in nine months.

You and Jake will have the family you've always dreamed of.

Samuel pressed back your legs and moved faster—you instinctively tried to push him away but he was too heavy.

At long last, your back arched you spasmed around him.

He shut his eyes, jerked his hips forward one last time and came inside.

"I'm going to ask one last time." Samuel, hair still damp from the shower, leaned in and looked you in the eye. "Are you sure about this?"

You smiled and then hung your head.

He grabbed your chin and gently forced you to look back at him.

"Say it."

"Yes," you muttered. "I'm ready to be a mom."

"Fine. Don't blame me when I get too rough."

Samuel didn't pull out just yet.

He was still on top of you you, held up by his elbows so he wouldn't crush you. He panted. "Are you okay?"

Your arm was still blocking your eyes. Instead of answering, you nodded.

Sweat rolled down your heaving breasts.

He couldn't tell if you were exhausted or ashamed.

Still joined to you at the hip, he slowly sat up. He called for Jake.

The door swung open and your husband came running to your side.

"Jakey?"

"I'm here, beautiful." He dabbed your chest and neck with a towel.

"We did it," you whispered.

He grinned. "You did it."

Samuel rolled his eyes for the hundredth time. For some reason, while Jake was very private about his sex life, the two of you had no problem flirting in front of Samuel. He suspected it was Jake's idea of a sick joke.

Jake sat behind you and helped you get into a sitting position.

"All right," Samuel said, preparing to pull out, "my job is done. I need a shower and—"

"Done?" Jake cocked his head. "We agreed you'd do it the whole day."

"I didn't think you meant it literally! Besides, don't you feel bad for your wife? She looks like she's going to pass out."

Your legs, which were twitching just a minute ago, locked behind him.

Samuel's instincts told him to run. However, your pulsing insides suddenly squeezed him—worse, it felt like you were sucking him in.

Jake let out his usual belly laugh. "You're supposed to be the smartass here. A woman's ovulation period can last up to twenty-four hours max. Also, does she look tired to you?"

You threw your arms around Samuel's neck.

"Sammy~♪ "

Without your arm or hand covering your face, he could see your smitten, hungry eyes.

"You can't leave yet," you reminded him, "you promised to make me a mommy."

Jake pressed kisses on your bare back. "Don't you want to rest first, beautiful?"

"No, what if everything Sammy gave us leaks out?"

"You're right. I'm sorry, don't pout." Jake grabbed you by the chin and kissed your lips.

You giggled. "Sammy got hard just now."

"I told you," Jake said, massaging your breasts like it was the most natural thing in the world, "Sammy's the best."

Having just recovered from shock, Samuel tried to shove you off, but with Jake right behind you he lost balance and fell backwards.