#don lee

Jang Dong-Soo was not a kind man. He was ruthless, unforgiving, and wasn’t averse to using violence to get what he wanted. He lived a dangerous life, and he had plenty of scars and tattoos to prove it. His back, chest and arms were covered in thick black markings, evidence of his gang affiliation. Each inking told a story, marking out his career as Seoul’s most notorious gangster. Scars littered his body, deep, twisted knots of raised skin that were lasting reminders of knife fights, fist fights and one gunshot wound. He’d been closer to death more times than he’d had hot dinners, but you didn’t get to his position by avoiding confrontation.

He had more money than he knew what to do with, a penthouse apartment in the most expensive area of Seoul, and several vacation homes throughout the world. He drove the most expensive cars, wore the most expensive suits, and hired the most expensive, most ruthless security. Only idiots dared to cross Dong-Soo; and they never made it out the other side alive.

His injuries had landed him in A&E more times than he could count, and the police were always called. They knew exactly who he was and had been trying to arrest him for years, but Dong-Soo was too smart for them. “I fell,” he’d say when he was questioned over a knife that was sticking clean out of his thigh. “You fell onto a knife?” The detectives weren’t idiots either, they knew Dong-Soo was lying, but they had nothing to pin on him. He was careful, despite his numerous injuries, to always play it down as just an unfortunate accident. But he wasn’t fooling anyone; especially not you.

You were the nurse who always need to tend to his wounds. You often joked he needed a frequent flyers card, his visits almost a monthly occurrence. Dong-Soo was a hulk of a man, his broad muscles and chest so expansive he commanded every room he walked into. In your small treatment room, he took up most of the space, perched on the bed as you stitched him up time and time again. You never asked him about what had happened; you’d learned that he was never going to tell you, and you didn’t get paid enough to push for answers. He was such a mystery to you though, his tattooed body and brooding features staying in your mind long after he’d left the hospital. You’d stitched up wounds on his stomach, chest and arms, his muscles rock solid against your soft fingers. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to trace every line of every tattoo, how it would feel to have his hulk-like hands around your waist. He had a dangerous, unnerving energy about him, one that awoke your deepest desires. But you also noticed an underlying sweetness. He was always so kind to you, his voice always so soft when he spoke to you. He was nothing like his brooding, violent self around you; around you he was a giant teddy bear.

Dong-Soo had noticed you too. He’d paid your boss off to make sure he was always treated by you. You were beautiful, and kind, and Dong-Soo enjoyed seeing you, even if the only time he was around you was when he was having blood cleaned off him. You didn’t take any shit, you were witty and fiercely intelligent, and you were almost always on his mind. He wished he could take things further, but relationships in his line of work were dangerous. The people he worked with, the gangs he fought against, they wouldn’t hesitate to take out his family, if he had one. So, he kept a wide berth when it came to women, shunning relationships in place of one-night stands. He didn’t even have friends, not that he was the kind of person who made friends. But any relationship that wasn’t purely professional was something his enemies could use against him.

He'd often think of you though, wonder if he’d be able to be with you in another lifetime. He had no doubt that you’d keep him on his toes, that you’d challenge him, and almost certainly make him a better man. You seemed so small against his hulking frame, and on the nights, he couldn’t sleep, he thought about how it would feel to pick you up, your body trembling against his as he fucked you. He wondered how you’d look when you were riding him, whether your moans would be loud, whether your nails would leave marks down his body.

His life was so full of riches, and luxury and expense. But all he really wanted was a woman he could build a life with; a woman like you. But you were a woman he couldn’t have, a luxury he simply couldn’t obtain.