Series Title/AU: My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character

<<read the synopsis and content warnings first>>

Featuring: Gitae Kim

Content/Trigger Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, swearing, dark humor, smut, p in v sex, mild gore/violence, mentions of gang/cartel activity, sexual harassment, dubious consent (dubcon)

It happened years ago, during your brief stint in Tijuana, Mexico. 

The sun was already rising by the time you finished your shift. You would never stop being grateful that your dorm room was on the first floor, you’ve heard horror stories of fellow nurses losing consciousness halfway up the stairs and breaking something.

“I’m home,” you announced to no one. It was a habit you never dropped.

You started stripping the moment you locked the door. Just a quick shower and you were free to pass out.

You had just kicked off your scrub pants when you spotted a tiny. red-brown stain on the floor. When you rounded the corner, you discovered the balcony door had been forced off its hinges. Lines of rusting blood splattered over the walls and floor.

Shit. 

You spun around to get your phone, but someone pulled you back and into the bathroom.

A deep voice ordered in Spanish: “If you scream…I…I’ll kill you.”

You glanced around until you caught your intruder’s warped reflection on the ceramic toilet. 

“I won’t scream.” Even if you did, everyone else would’ve been too deep in sleep to hear. “But I can tell you’re hurt, you already lost a lot of blood.”

He panted, “No…no hospitals—no cops…if you call them, I-I’ll—”

“I know, I know. Save your breath, I’ll help you.”

He let out a sound of amusement, then he groaned and dropped his forehead on your shoulder.

You clicked your tongue. 

You were already mapping out the fastest route to the nearest police station, but then he began murmuring something.

He cried out in Korean, “Mother...I’m sorry…”

You clicked your tongue again and shuffled out of his grasp.

Tw | Blood | Established relationship | Throwing up (Seongjis) | Includes Gun, Goo, Seongji, Jaegyeon, Jake and Gitae

Wc | 1.9k

Note | I'm on a roll with these period scenarios :P. Enjoy <3 (does Gitae smoke? I don't remember seeing a panel but he does give me smoker vibes).

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Enjoy~

Gun | ───── ༺ ♰ ༻ ─────

Grey skies dimly illuminate the abandoned scrap yard, the threat of rain looming over the horizon. The rhythmic sound of clattering metal and bending earth fills the air around you as Gun trains.

He’d been at it all day, and the looming threat of the setting sun meant you were covered in one of his old, oversized coats. You sat on a rusted car seat quite a few spaces away from Gun’s flying fists, your arms wrapped tightly around the slicing pains in your stomach.

Slumpy posture along with a sallow complexion, you’re more withdrawn, quieter than you usually would be. You curl on yourself tighter as a multitude of cramps attack your insides, choosing to ignore the small ache forming at your lower back.

Gun stops mid punch as he suddenly notices your hunched form, shallow breathing and pale complexion. He doesn’t say anything, just walks over to his freshly prepared tea, picks it up, and then brings it over to you.  

You take the tea with quiet thanks, cold hands clenching tightly around the thermos. You move forward slowly after he dips his head in question. He doesn’t have to speak; you’ll always know what he’s asking without him needing to give it verbal confirmation.

He slides in behind you and wraps a lose arm around your waist as he drags you back against his chest, a smoke alight at his lips. The smoke curls slowly into the air before scattering against the wind.

Neither of you speak. You just bask in the warmth of one another as you watch the darkening sky. The atmosphere is heavy and stoic, just like Gun, yet it always feels grounding.

He treats your pain almost as if one of his battles; he endures them with you, with him as your very own shield.

Goo | ───── ༺ ♰ ༻ ─────

Your face is smashed against silk sheets, arms wrapped around your stomach like a vice as you groan in misery. Your cramps battle inside of you like an endless war, and you’re forced to do nothing but curl up into a ball.

The door to your bedroom slams open abruptly, and a dramatic, dying gasp escapes Goo’s lips. “Babyy~” he screeches as he catapults onto the mattress beside you, gasping and clutching at his chest like he’s the one dying.

“What’s wrong with you?!” he demands.

And then, suddenly, there’s a makeshift nurse’s hat atop his blond locks, and he starts to preform medical emergency protocols on you through means of massaging at your stomach and demanding the cramps flee from your body at once.

Then, all at once, he flees the room only to come back a few minutes later with a mountain of your favourite snacks.

As you munch on your favourite chocolate bar, he proceeds to bow and present you with his medical emergency weapon of choice.

A spatula.

Despite the pain, you manage to let out a laugh before raising an eyebrow in question. “And what’s that for?” you deadpan, arms crossing over your chest sternly. “It’s my tool for your makeshift surgery,” he replies cheekily before he lifts your shirt and starts slicing teasingly into your stomach.

You let out a tired sigh.

“Goo.” You say, eyes tired. “It’s alright, baby~ I’ve almost extracted the buggers causing this pain.

You let out a startled laugh, eyes shining as he belts out a multitude of ridiculous jokes all at once.

You almost forget about the pain.

Seongji | ───── ༺ ♰ ༻ ─────

The air is cool against your sweat slicked skin as you lay crumpled inside Seongji’s cabin. The sun is boiling outside, and despite the warmth being a nice relief against your cramping stomach, the utter boil that came with wasn’t worth staying in the sun.

So, you find yourself lying under the AC in Seongji’s cabin, not a breeze sounding from the outside, as you clutch at your stomach.

The pain and sudden hot to cold starts to stir nausea in your stomach, and your pallor whitens.

You rush to the door, throw it open and race to the nearest tree as your lunch booms through you and spews out onto the forest floor. As you wipe at your mouth, you ignore the concerned looks from Seongji’s students and straighten up.

Ugh, I’ll need to go and clean my teeth now. My mouth feels horrible.

As you’re brushing away the acid from your teeth, arm clenched against your stomach, the cabin door opens abruptly. Seongji strides up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you put your toothbrush away.

“Are you okay?” he asks into your ear, hand rubbing soothing circles over the skin of your abdomen. “Mary said you threw up?”

You give a slight nod of your head. “Yeah, I’m fine. It just happens sometimes, when the pain gets really bad, temperatures change. Just the usual.” Seongji takes a hold of your hand before leading you towards his futon in the furthest corner of the cabin.

“Come, rest with me,” he says quietly as he pulls you into his embrace. “Don’t push yourself so much when you’re feeling so low on energy.”

Jaegyeon | ───── ༺ ♰ ༻ ─────

“Let’s take the car and go out. It’s a really nice day,” Jaegyeon says as his face suddenly pops into view. The sudden interaction makes you jolt before you curl onto yourself with a wince. “Do we have to~” you complain, elongating the ‘o’ as you bury your face into the couch.

Jaegyeon raises his eyebrows as he takes in your miserable state on the couch. “Rough day?” he asks, confused. You let out a tired sigh.

“Dude, what does it look like?” you deadpan, rolling your eyes. You tend to get cranky on the worst days of your period, something Jaegyeon had gotten used to over time. He knew not to take it personally.

Besides, your crankiness was hardly ever directed at him anyways.

His eyes quickly soften as he realises what time of the month it is. “My poor baby,” he pouts as he catapults onto the couch, manoeuvring you so you’re gathered atop his chest.

He then spends the next hour showing you hilarious cat videos in attempt to distract you from the pain, trying his hardest to remove the miserable aura blanketing you.

When that starts to wear off and you become downtrodden again, he moves on to gossip; one of your favourite pastimes.

Yet, despite how many times he tries to distract you, what he introduces to you and what he tries to do to help you, he always gives in eventually.

He’ll pull you into his arms, form a tight huddle around you, and become your anchor. He’ll always be there when you need it and knows well that you’d do the same for him, too.

“Your human heater at your service, milady,” he jokes, head burrowed against your hair as your lips caress the skin on his neck. “This lady is extremely grateful,” you mumble into his neck before closing your eyes.

As you sleep, he stays there, wrapped around you like bubble wrap; he’ll always protect you, no matter what.

Jake | ───── ༺ ♰ ༻ ─────

You’re walking down the Big Deal street, face pale and eyes downtrodden. Much quieter than usual, the people on your street notice.

Which, to nobody’s surprise, was how Jake heard of your ailment and immediately took the night off after Jerry agreed to keep things going smoothly without him.

He turns at the nearest corner, coming face to face with his miserable looking, yet still so brightly beautiful, woman. “Darlin’,” he calls from a few paces away, brows pinched in concern but that doesn’t mask the determination written across his eyes. “I’ve taken the rest of the day off, and you will too. Come.”

As he reaches you, he gives you that bright, big smile of his, the light shining on the scars etched into his skin. How you love that smile of his.

“Jake,” you groan before jumping into his arms. “Carry me home, please?” you beg, eyelashes fluttering up at him mischievously.

He loves that, despite feeling so ill, you always find a way to remain playful, as if you knew you were his rock, his motivation for striving forward as he did.

“Of course, darlin’,” he chuckles as he swings you around and properly into his arms before he starts swaggering off with you to his home base, waving at Yeonhui and Sinu through the window of a fast-food place as you pass by.

When you get back to his place, a pile of multiple different sanitary products awaits you. He still doesn’t really know the exact brand you use.

Except, he does know that tampons are a big no.

After you’d gone fiery demon on him after he bought tampons instead of pads that one time, he swore away from ever going near a tampon again.

He’d complained about it once to Yeonhui, who’d then proceeded to give him a good punch and talking to while he kneeled in apology on the floor in front of her. That bastard Sinu had been laughing has arse off in the background, yapping on about being ‘too young to know the ins and outs of a woman yet’.

He’d apologised profusely to you later that night, only laughing when you had guiltily said you’d overreacted a tad.

“Thanks for the chocolate!” you exclaim happily as you munch on the caramel bar, body snuggled into his on the couch as the tv hums in the background.

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

Gitae | ───── ༺ ♰ ༻ ─────

A shivering breeze brushes against your clammy skin, the cold having no effect on your numerous hot flushes. The lights overhead are dim and cheap, and the fan on the ceiling sputters and swirls awkwardly.

It was a surprisingly cheap hotel for someone like Gitae to find himself in. Though you supposed this was nothing compared to the streets of Mexico, considering people were being murdered left, right and centre when you’d been over there.

The clanking sound of weaponry echoes from the corner of the room, a cloud of smoke trailing up to the ceiling from the beast of a man sat in the armchair over there.

He’s cleaning his axe with a sort of reverence, something he’d never really shown you. Sometimes you wonder why you still bother with him at all.

He barely spares you a glance yet can’t help but send a look your way when a particularly bad cramping hits your stomach, one that has you groaning into the pillow you’d stuffed your face into.

“What’s wrong with you?” he tuts at you as he blows out another bout of smoke. “I have cramps,” you mutter, arms clenching around your middle.

He only scoffs at you, head leaning back as his cigarette hangs from his lips. “Pathetic. Pain is a weakness, get over it.”

Fucking men. They’ll never understand.

As if hearing your thoughts, his eye twitches. You don’t do anything but let out a tired sigh. You had long since forgone being scared of him; if he was going to kill you, he would. Wasn’t anything to twist your panties about.

And he knew that you weren’t afraid. It’d probably been why he’d kept you around for so long, and you’d stayed. You had other… privileges. Privileges’ not given to other people.

He was still a dick, though.

He tosses a stack of cash on the bed before taking another drag of his cigarette. “Go buy whatever you need to shut up about it,” he orders, waving his hand to the door.

Prick.

“Will do, thanks,” you deadpan before escaping from the room. In his own twisted way, it shows his care. The fact you were still alive shows that in some dark, dingy hole inside of him, he held a slither of care for you, no matter how small it may be.

2.2k. G/N. Gitae Kim x reader. Reader is morally grey. Gets spicy (Prequel-ish: An Introduction) Other Masterlists

“So, let me get this straight."

"Mm." Goo hums, meaning go ahead.

"You're paying me to babysit?"

"Man-sit," he interjects.

"Whatever." You flap your hand, "but I am looking after this person, correct?"

"Yes my little sweetpea." Goo rests his head on your shoulder, so close you could count his eyelashes and see the way his pupils dilate. "It's my secret friend's first time back in Seoul after being away. It'll be good for you to show him around."

"...I'm charging my usual rate."

"Sure-"

"And you're covering our expenses."

He rolls his eyes, "Ugh, fine."

.

.

Gitae Kim, from what you have managed to find out, is patricidal and a powerful man with unsavoury dealings.

"Play nice," was Goo's parting advice when you came to him with your concerns.

"Play nice?!" You say, voice shrill. Goo grins.

"Fuck you, my rate just tripled."

The grin drops and is replaced by a scowl.

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✩ character: kim gitae ✩ summary: you were someone who’d be strict on herself, not letting her serious side falter. Until some cocky (ahem..) criminal in the rain you feel pity for makes you change your ways. ✩ cw : smut; p in v, fingering, oral (fem receiving), cunnilingus ✩ w/c: around 5k ✩ a/n: 2025, choibongpalsglasses back? not my best work, and excuse my mistakes 😭🙏

──────────✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✩──────────

As the big boss of a luxurious company, you’re known for your innovative ability to design products and market it to the public, incredible enough to make it seem as if there were no negative sides to said material. As a leader, you were notorious for your excellent creative and professional exterior, praised for your numerous awards. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say your company is one of the most known in the world.

And because of the abundance of positive feedback and an overall positive outlook, not even the press would even think for a second you’d be fucking around with a cartel in the background.

Tall and dangerous, your exact type. The thrill of having someone able to destroy you in a blink made your veins pop. Maybe that’s why you approached him that rainy night, even if you weren’t looking for a one night stand. He had dark circles with pitch black eyes, one that glistened under the flickering lamppost’s golden light, a tall stature and a grin that could have any lady fawn. Despite his situation, he was cocky and arrogant, constantly making offensive and playful remarks. From the way his gaze lowered from your face to your body when you spoke, you could tell he was also clearly infatuated with you. If only you could play with him one more time, let him sway you off your tiptoes with his smooth, classy voice, and kiss the back of your hand like a hopeless romantic one more time.

So you gave up on that dream. Hey, what’s the point of waiting if it’ll never come? Of course, you had better things to worry about, like your internal affairs and meetings, running your business is not exactly easy work. Anything to distract you off of that man’s siren-like aura and your depriving mental state. Money skyrocketed, stocks increasing while all your employees got a raise after what people thought would be the downfall of the company. No question you saved the millions you so rightfully earned.

Even after all of that, you didn’t forget his presence. For crying out loud, it was one night. He was riding his motorcycle, you presumed, and he’d crashed. Only managing to crawl his way to a lamppost because his knee had gotten injured from the crash, he rested there, no hope in sight.

Releasing a sigh, he rested his head back upon the thin pole, letting the heavy rain pour onto his face, trickling into his mouth. That night you were driving home slowly on the same street, going as slow as you pleased since there weren’t any cars behind you, and they could easily overtake you. Time seemed to move slow you watched the wiper blades drag across the windshields surface. Until you caught a strange man sitting against a pole in the rain, without an umbrella and wearing clothes not suitable. Feeling sympathy, one which you rarely felt, you quickly pulled over your car and rushed to the figure who rested there.

He looked up at you, taking in the sight of your face. Stern, serious yet bewitching, one that he couldn’t peel his eyes off of for a second.

“Sir? Are you..” You expected an answer, yet he only stared through his half-lidded eyes for a quick moment, maintaining eye contact. At the second ‘sir’, he snapped back into reality, running his hand through his soaked strands.

“It’s what it looks like. I’ve gotten into an accident. I’m glad a lovely lady like you has come to save me.” He smirked, looking up at you with eyes like a cheetah weighing down its prey.

“In your dreams.” You damn well knew your worth, maybe that’s why you were still single. Holding your ground, you scoffed, holding the umbrella nice his head, extending your hand.

“I have a leg injury from the crash. I can’t walk.” He intertwined his fingers into yours, licking his lips cheekily.

“Then why’d you take my hand?” Your lips curled up into a dumbfounded, slightly disgusted expression, your eyebrows raising at his stupid words.

“Your hands are sexy, why else? What man would ever reject such pretty hands like yours?”

“Be quiet. I can just drive off and leave you here if I wanted to.” He groaned, making a pouty face at you.

“Feisty.” Softly chuckling, he grabbed onto the dripping lamppost and tried to gain his balance, slipping and groaning. For a man in pain, he sounded oddly intimate. “Help me out, won’t ‘cha?”

You took his arm upon your shoulder, guiding him to the chair. Perhaps it was inevitable your recently done hair got drenched by the rain as well. To be expected, he was heavy; he was tall and quite muscular judging by the tear of his tank top under his biker’s jacket. Resting him into the passenger's seat with such effort, he passed you a wink before watching you walk to the driver's seat.

“So… Where do you live?”You turned your gaze to him. “Take me out to dinner first.” He threw his head back on the seat, blowing kissy faces as you. If he wasn’t injured, you probably would’ve punched him already. “In all honesty, I live very far from here, and I doubt you’d wanna drive that far.”

Heading that, you sighed, deadpanning at the stranger. Taking him to yours wouldn’t be that bad, I mean, what’s he do with a broken leg. “I’ll take you to mine, but no funny business or I’ll kick you out.”

“Yes ma’am.” He smiled, letting out a low chuckle. It was silent apart from the squeaking of the windscreen wipers trying to wash the rain away, yet it was no use. In a way, it felt like a reflection of your life. Rather you should be more worried about the man sitting next to you.

“Name. What’s your name?” You asked, your voice breaking the agonising lack of conversation. It’d be better off for you if you atleast know something about the man next to you.

“I’m yours.” A smug, flirty smirk came upon his lips, his sexiness making you steer the wheel inaccordingly. Clearing your throat, you retorted:

“Not funny, what’s your name?”

“Names Gitae, Kim Gitae.” Gitae clicked his tongue, hand wandering to your thigh, “And yours?”

“Be quiet.” Your eyes wanders themselves to his fingers which drummed upon your thigh. “What do you want?”

“Just wanna see what’s under this skirt, is that so illegal?” From his suggestive words, you bite your lip and smile. Your eyes lift to his seductive gaze. There’s no doubt the sexual energy is lingering between you two, and it seems he’s made the first move.

“You’re injured. And we’re nearly there.” You dismiss the chance to have a taste of him. It was the only excuse you could pull out the box anyway. Why didn’t you pull over and let him take the lead? Perhaps it’s because you’re not looking for connection, even if this is a rare find. He may be expecting more than just sex, and as your role as CEO prevents you from having time for a lover, you’d prefer not. Never would you ever give up such money and power for a person.

You walked —while he stumbled— Gitae up to your penthouse, entering the code and letting him in.

“An angel like you has an angelic place as well, huh? How luxurious. Can’t wait to see the bedroom.” Gitae winks, taking off his jacket, hanging it wherever he pleases like he owned the place. You always aspired to keep your place tidy, with vases full of fake flowers and the tiles left shiny. Your heels clacked against the marble floors, falling with a thud as you swept them off messily, following his stumbles to your living room. With a groan, Gitae slumped onto the comfortable sofa, breathing rapidly to try and distract himself from the pain. You hadn’t realised he’d been acting all cocky to bear the pain throbbing from his knee.

“You like wine?” You gazed up at him, the tension palpable between you as the room went silent. He nodded, and you dismissed the aura in the room while walking towards your kitchen. Gitae’s eyes followed the gentle sway of your hips, your confident stride and the final glance you took at him before finally leaving, saying a firm ‘don’t touch anything’.

You didn’t know what it is — you grasped your hand around a cup and one of your usual finest wines, it’s such a habit to impress after everything— but it’s something between the two of you. The way he turns his gaze to you; it’s magnetic, teasing and confident. And fuck, you love it.

To impress, you take the finest wines out of your cabinets, one you’ve been dying to take a sip of. Bringing the bottle and two wine glasses with you, he stood up to take them from you with a wink.

“Let me pour it, m’lady.” He softly spoke, licking the insides of his lips sensually. For some odd reason, that made a smile subconsciously spread over your lips, wondering what he could do with that tongue. Couldn’t lick your ear, gently nibbling on the tender skin? Gently drag his lips to your neck, leaving hickeys to claim you as his? Or travel down to your aching cunt, torturing your clit with his gentle flicks? Your throat bobbed as you swallowed back a breathy sigh, taking your freshly poured glass.

“Sit down here.” Gitae threw himself back against the couch, slapping his hand against his thigh provocatively. They looked so inviting, and the perfect seat right after his face. Taking a big gulp of your wine, you cleared all the worthless thoughts out of your mind and focused at the real task at hand — this tall stranger in your house.

He was unbelievablely handsome.

“Be quiet.” You scowled, taking a seat next to him instead, crossing your legs like you knew businsss. Every so often your gaze would travel up to meet his, to which Gitae smirked and winked, making your heart flutter. Now that you think about it, he’s unbelievably handsome. Even with that wound in his stomach and dripping wet hair, he still has that “bad boy” charm that you can’t get enough of. Taking another large sip of your wine, you panted as soon as the glass parted from your lips. Are you insane? You’re remarkable for your indecency and lack of tolerance for misbehaviour, romance and the sort. So why now, with some criminal looking bastard are you throwing it all away?

“Woah, easy there, princess. Got a lot on ya mind?” Gitae chuckled, easing up the atmosphere. You grit your teeth at him to which he laughed off, tangling his fingers in your strands, leaning in closer. “Don’t get drunk too quickly.”

“And why do you care? How strong is it?” Deadpanning with an arrogant tone, you grabbed the bottle and checked: 15% vol. Whatever, you’re no lightweight. As long as you don’t gauge down the whole bottle like you do most nights, hangover the next morning but dragging yourself surviving on a cup of coffee, you’d be fine.

“You’re cute.” Gitae took a gulp of his own glass, letting his arm rest on the armrest. “What about my injuries? I seek immediate attention. How cruel can you be?” He spoke in a teasing matter, acting if he’s been utterly betrayed.

But is it so right to leave an uninvited guest alone, without a clue about this bastard? He’s sitting there like he owns the place, wetting your floors and sofa but that’s the least of your concerns. Judging by his frame, he could possibly tip you over and throw you out the window, pull out a gun at any second — nonetheless find that secret safe of yours—

“Hey, sweetheart, finished daydreaming?” Gitae calls out, snapping you right back to reality. Again, you’re overthinking it, just like you always do. With a sigh, you stand up from where you were sat, the glass resting on a table with a soft clunk. His eyes followed each of your lousy moments, then trailed up to yours to where they both met.

“Wait here. Your leg is injured, right? Don’t do anything stupid.” You sighed, telling him off like a kid who’s had too many sweets. Walking off, you turned your back to face him to give him a glare to show your seriousness, to which he blew a kiss in response. It’s not as if that stupid wink and flirty attitude was actually getting to you, right? Or so you wanted to think. But what did Gitae think of you? In his eyes, you were utterly charming without even realising it. He could already tell a strong woman with priorities like you could rock his world, and your firm attitude only made him subconsciously fall for you even more. Gitae throws his head back and lets out a low chuckle, a satisfied grin washing over his face as he takes a deep breaths.

It’s odd he feels this way, as a drug lord he already knows what he has to do: murder, torture and distribute. There’s no room for personal feelings nor freedom in the world he’s surrounded himself in. He’s met all types of women: the poor ones that’d do anything for another snort of cocaine, the strong ones who wish they could fall out of this addiction, ones who’ve tried to stray him away from this scene. And none of them were like you.

Romance is long gone, anyway, he simply dispised the concept of him kissing, loving and caring for another too seriously. Would it be strange to say he can see a connection?

You grab the first aid kit, rushing back to see if he’s done anything preposterous. Instead he’s just sitting there, pulling out a cigarette, acting like he was disturbed by your entrance. Y’know, it’s not like you gave him permission to smoke in your penthouse. Usually you’d get angry and complain like an old hag, yet you didn’t have the energy to do so. He blinks at you, and you blink back at him, and he takes the signal to drop it.

“Caught red-handed.” Gitae puts both hands up as if he’s been caught by the cops, something he’s not too unfamiliar with.

“No time for your childish behaviour.” You walk up to him, throwing the first aid kit next to him. “I’m going to treat you, so just be quiet.”

Now that you look at it, the wound was deeper than you thought it was. Without going into the specifics, it was a crimson red color and a large scar over his right thigh and knee. It made you doubt whether he even had a license.

“How did this happen?” You mutter, wincing at the sight. Even though you were no doctor, you could tell this was more than it seemed it was. You took out gauze, cleansing wipes and the sort. Gently wiping around the wound, you cleaned any remaining blood that might’ve spilled. His eyes were fixated on the way you tucked your hair behind your ear, the way your eyelashes fluttered when you blinked and all the crazy little details that drove him mad. Gitae rested his hand upon the armrest, his head resting upon his lazy hand as he simply watched you at work. It wasn’t such a bad sight seeing you nestled between his legs.

At this point, you had no clue on what to do, so you wrapped bandages around said wounds, hoping for the best. The last thing you were going to do this late was read the instruction manual.

“I’m no doctor, so this’ll have to do.” A head of sweat ran down your forehead, yet you kept your voice steady. You expected a response, but the room remained silent after that moment of speech. Raising your head, he was simply staring — was it a look of mere interest, or could it hint at something more?

“Oh. Yeah, it’s fine.” Gitae finally realised his staring, clearing his throat as a hint of red spawned upon his cheeks. Without realising, he’d drop his flirty attitude, and you found that cute.

The room paused for a moment, the still air warm between you too. It definitely wasn’t uncomfortable; but the lack of conversation made this nervous feeling wash over you. Your eyes raised to look at him, and you could’ve sworn they were locked together. Gitae stood up, ignoring the stinging pain in his knee. Perhaps you tied it too tightly, but right now he didn’t care; nor did he tease you for it. Instead he took a step closer, his hand hesitating slightly before resting upon your waist. This time, you noticed he wasn't making eye contact with you, he was staring at your lips. They were so kissable and almost irresistible in his perspective, but would it be so illegal to kiss them?

With a sigh, he pulled you in, lips locking with a tenderness that couldn’t be described. The grip on your waist tightened, yet he kept it gentle. In a fit of shock, you pulled away, hand on his chest. He couldn’t bear to look at you, his face evident of the turmoil going on internally. You didn’t exactly hate the feeling of his lips on yours, and the warmth wasn’t exactly discomforting.

In a swift motion, you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him to you this time, squeezing your eyes shut. At first you roughly intertwined your lips, yet slowed down when he quickly reciprocated. He let both arms wrap around your waist, his hands resting on your ass. Resting your eyelids, you only opened them slightly to look at Gitae, who was looking right back at you.

Parting your lips, they felt cold without his warmth. Eye contact — he didn’t take your eyes off of you, switching between your sweet lips and your unreadable expression. For him it was almost obvious, an ‘I want you’, no, an ‘I need you’. Maybe it was that bittersweet look that drove him right into your body, his body sturdy between your divorced legs. Or was it those same hands that rested on your ass, now pushing your pencil skirt up your thigh. Those lips that now kiss your neck so tenderly, dragging down your stomach towards the part that ached the most.

Do you regret it? Your back definitely did the next day.

Now that it’s been ages since that night occurred, you could say you definitely did. What if you just ignored him? Drove past the aching figure, went upon your usual miserable days, chugging down wine and stressing the rest of your nights away.

Is that why when you woke up his number with a kiss on a piece of torn paper — to which you found out was from one of your crucial documents that were stashed away — was lying on your desk when you woke up? Should you even call that man back, or keep it a one night stand that everybody could forget about? Even now, as you're sitting upon the same bed he so roughly took you on, that note still resides in your drawer. Taking it out gently, you held your phone in the older hand. First, you weighed the pros and cons. Your endless years of education and expertise didn’t leave you an impulsive idiot. His personality left an impact on you, no, his whole presence and everything about him left your mind wandering way more than it should’ve.

Entering his number into your phone, you rang him. What were you even meant to say at this point? It had been quite a while since that previous encounter.

Before you knew it, he picked up.

“Been waiting for you to call.” Gitae sneers, immediately knowing it’s you despite the line being radio silent for a second.

“Gitae Kim.” His name rolls off of your tongue, unnervingly stern, and memories flood back. His voice is as smooth and raspy as then, like smooth jazz in a fancy restaurant. No need to say you didn’t miss it, as if someone as stubborn as you would ever admit that.

“Still remember the name, hm?” A gunshot rips through tge line, and a blood curdling scream that made your whole body shudder. “Sorry sweetheart, a little.. busy. I’ll meet up at your place tonight. 10pm? Like back then.”

Before you could even say a word, he hangs up. Like back then, he says? Gitae still remembers all of that the same you do, but to an extent you could never understand. In his own perspective, he’d also had you on his mind: distracting him from work and business deals, making him a tad gentler when everyone was so used to him being so harsh. Infact, it wouldn’t be far off to say he was slightly glad you took his number. Moreso extremely glad, as he’d had the thought of you and your mesmerising figure on his mind for too long now. It was long overdue that he heard your stern voice growl your name, and it was simply music to his ears.

10pm rolls around once more, and you hear the sound of knocking at your door. What baffled you is how he remembered your address from such a time ago. He opened the door, a bag in his hand all bloodied up, hand resting at the casing of your door. He offered a smile, blood dripping down his wet shirt which highlighted every nook and cranny of his abs that you could barely take your eyes off of.

“Eyes are up here.” Gitae scoffed, dusting his wet shoes off on the mat and stripping his biker's jacket off, throwing it upon his shoulder. His sturdy arms catch your attention, and you were bewildered. For a hot second, you stared and licked your lips, clearing your throat before talking.

“It’s been.. a long time.” You walked off, your voice echoing as you made your way to the living room where you first met.

“No doubt so.” He followed your every step, his eyes lingering on the gentle sway of your hips with each step. At this point, what was left to say? Neither of you wanted to gather up the courage to say anything, nothing about the lingering feeling ever since that one night stand. As an impatient individual, sitting around here isn’t doing anything productive. Yet the words won’t come out of your mouth. That yearning you went through — was it all for nothing. There’s no use pining for someone you can’t bare to have.

“L-Leg’s healed, huh?” You stutter, making conversation as you sat yourself on the couch, making your efforts to try and stop your mind from lingering. It was hard enough being face to face with him already, and the memories are already slapping you in the face one more.

“Mhm.”

“I should probably get us some wine, how about that?” You stood, trying to ease the air while you head towards the kitchen. Much to your delay, a tall figure stops you in his tracks, speaking lowly in your ear.

“I should be honest with you, shouldn’t I?” He mutters,conflicted on whether to truly express what he felt. Was he nervous you’d reject, shove him away, or afraid of the repercussions of you feeling the same?

“In all honesty, I can’t get my mind off of you.” This time he speaks louder, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. His hands run feverishly down your body to rest upon your hips, pulling you closer as he nibbles upon your ear, whispering in a hushed tone as if what was to come next were forbidden. “You’ve wrapped me around your finger without realising it. Care to take responsibility?”

For a second you don’t move, in complete shock at his sudden confession. He’s been thinking about you way too much; the way your hair sways and your lips curve into a smile, the way your eyelashes flutter when you blink — oh, it’s all too much for him to handle.

Should you take him within your sheets?

Too late to decide, because you’ve already intertwined your lips with his, your tongues eagerly brushing against each other. You’re already impossibly close, yet he wants to feel your body even closer, he wants to meld your bodies together until all you can feel is forbidden bliss.

“Take me to the bedroom, I’ll show you how much I need you.” He murmurs, breathing warm against your ear, making your whole body shiver. Without a moment's hesitation you drag him along to your bedroom, his eyes never leaving yours. The door opened with a creak and slammed against the wall as you couldn’t care anymore — it was a primal need that couldn’t be described with feeble use of language. Gitae laid your body gently open the sheets, his large hands trailing up your thighs as he placed his body between your legs. His fingers gripping onto the hem of your skirt, as if asking permission to pull them down.

With a nod, he pulls down your skirt, letting it dangle off of your right foot. He takes your legs upon his shoulders as he gently kisses up your inner thigh towards your core. He delves— practically smothers his nose against your pussy, using your thighs to squeeze his face. You let out a small whimper, and he shifts his focus to what’s hiding underneath your shirt.

Your spine shudders when you feel Gitae’s warm hands trailing up your hips, lifting your shirt up to reveal your heaving chest, all on display like being up for auction. And this excited winner didn’t take a moment's hesitation to pull it off of you, groping at the fabric covering his sacred prize. Small whimpers escape your throat followed by a gasp at the unclamping of your bra, and the sound of it falling against the floor. A smirk played upon his lips as he suckled on the mounds, other hand groping at the fat. Perking up, your nipples bathed in the feeling of his warm tongue swirling around the nubs, the teeth nibbling and the way they achingly parted with a wet pop. Gitae feverishly pulled back, looking at you with an intensity that burned. For a moment he didn’t say anything, and the air around you softly lifted.

You averted your gaze downwards towards your now eager center, then back up to his eyes with an unsatisfied snark.

Gitae chuckled, using his hand to throw his head back.

“All for your pleasure, huh?” His voice echoed throughout the room and he shifted back to his previous position, back into the valley between your legs where he belonged. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll show you the ride we’ve both been craving for.”

He pulls your pants down and tosses them to the other side of the room, focusing on the snack in front of him. His lips part as he delicately licks your folds, holding your legs apart. Your throat bobs as you take a deep gulp, waiting — and feeling — as he takes it to the next level, spreading them apart with his tongue and stroking the sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue, deliberately teasing you. Gravitating towards his head, your hands hover in a decision between shoving his head down or letting him tease you however he pleases.

Suddenly, he incorporates the thicker part of his tongue, giving kitty-licks to the heat between your thighs. How cruel! Pouting, you nudge his head forward, and he takes the hint.

“You used to be so snappy and serious. Guess you aren’t the only thing that’s warmed up to me.” He murmurs against your cunt, and with a growl he delves his head into you, catching your whole body off guard with the sudden pleasure. With the buck of your hips and a twitch from your thighs, he grabs them and pins them down against your chest, slurping the juices you leak with a thirst that couldn’t be described. At all this you couldn’t help but throw your head back and helplessly moan, guttural groans emerging from your throat involuntarily. His tongue harshly circled over your entrance, letting your right thigh go as he replaced the circular motion with his finger. For crying out loud, you didn’t even know if you were ready to be fingered yet.

A small push was all he needed to get into your sweet hole, his finger instantly being met with the tightness of your walls squeezing upon him.

“Relax.” Gitae gently murmurs, and with his soft words you take deep breaths, watching him intently. Slowly, he’d push and pull out of you, and lean into kiss your thighs, trailing his tongue towards your heat. And it drove you crazy. All you wanted to do was grab his wrists and pull him deeper within you. Perhaps it was obvious based on the low chuckle he released, his finger scouring deeper within so suddenly, making you wince. Before you knew it, your g-spot was being poked with his long fingers, and then pressed gently at first. ‘Come hither’— that technique made your whole body writhe in pleasure although you were just getting started. By the look on his face, you could tell Gitae was utterly satisfied, but by lowering your gaze, his hard-on twitching in his pants said otherwise.

With a gasp he enters another naughty finger, and two fingers pressed up against your g-spot, and you shiver. Louder than it should’ve been, with an instant you covered your mouth, while he continued his rhythm. You suppressed moans, gasps and quiet whimpers. You watched as his fingers disappeared within you, reappearing back out with your sticky juices dripping upon his fingers.

“Don’t silence yourself, I want to hear you.” Low, his voice still captured his firmness as he used his other hand to gently pale off yours from your lips. In an instant his pace increased, like two sides of the same coin, making you whimper. The sudden increase made moans escape from your throat involuntary, your body convulsing under his touch. He kisses amongst your thighs, trailing down with hickeys. At this point you couldn’t control yourself — juices escaped you without even asking, and you couldn’t stop yourself from squirting all over his fingers as if your body was rebelling against your every command.

Pulling out his fingers, your hips buck to beg for the return of his bittersweet touch, as the juices flow out of your body onto the sheets. Below you was a puddle full of no your essence, warm against your trembling ass and spreading.

“No use for this jacket now, huh?” Without realising, his chin was dripping with your fluids as well as his shirt. It looked like he’d been scuba diving, as if you were the harsh riptide and he was an ‘innocent’ civilian.

“It’s karma.” You managed to mumble breathlessly, relaxing your legs.

“Karma?” He repeated, licking his lips for the trace of your sentence on his tongue.

“For.. For making me think about you so damn much. Just for us to rekindle like this.” Running your fingers through your hair, you ran your tongue over your teeth, looking into his eyes. Mission success — you caught him off guard; this was your opportunity right in front of you to grab.

In a blink of an eye you grabbed his wet shirt and flipped him over onto his back, your legs straddling his waist. Underneath you was his warm bulge twitching through the fabric of his pants, and you didn’t take a moment to pause before you started grinding upon him. A deep chuckle emerges from his lips as he watches you work on top of him, his hands gravitating to your hips as he guides you.

“This was your plan all along.. Was it not?” Gitae smirked, watching the way your hips bounced. He couldn’t help but wonder how you would bounce on his cock.

“It’s my turn.”

Your hands ran up his body, immersing yourself in the feeling of his hard abs heaving with each shaky breath he took, hands landing on his wide chest. Gently squeezing them, your thumbs brushed against his nipples, and a low groan escaped him. You leaned in to press kisses against his neck, and he took this chance to surprise you with a sharp spank that cut through the sound. Your whole body flinched and he sneered, groaning as you only continued.

Moving down to his belt, you sneakily unbuckled said belt and pulled down his pants, revealing his hardened member. The tip had been leaking precum down its length, now pooling on his stomach. Is that.. seriously the cock you took that night? It looks bigger, thicker, one that you could not actually take. Fluttering your eyelashes, you sat dazed for a good minute or so, Gitae’s expectant gaze fixated on you. That ‘thing’ twitched, eager for your touch only to be met with cold air instead of your warm palm — better yet, your little pussy.

“Something the matter?”

“No it’s just..” Words trailing off, you took a deep gulp as you wrapped your palm around his thickness, fingers struggling to meet around his circumference. Yeah, this was a bad idea. One that you don’t regret, anyhow.

“No need for your mouth, I support you’re wet enough. Your little cunt was throbbing against me and producing so much slick I doubt—“

“E-Enough talking.”

“I see, back to your little attitude. I promise I’ll..” He grabs our hips, flipping you back into missionary, his cock lined up against your hold. Your folds spread to sandwich his cock as he gently thrusts into the welcoming opening, the fat tip torturing your clit. “.. fuck each and every word out of you — I’ll make you so brain dead the only thing you can think about it’s how good my cock makes you feel.”

With a low growl, he feasts upon your neck, kissing up your jawline to your lips, to law a passionate kiss upon the soft skin. A minute or more, you pull his hair back to get his tongue away from yours as you pant for breath, watching his breath smirk with hooded lids. Surging through your veins to the fist grabbing his hair, the arousal brings a primal sense within you, and it makes you wish — no, crave for the desire for him to breed every last bit of your essence.

“Put it in,” You pout your lips as his tip probes at your hole, your hips bucking to feel his length inside of you. Gitae’s strong hands spread your legs apart, slowly pushing his length inside of you. Each inch stretched you further, your walls struggling to accommodate his girth. You could feel every stretch of your pussy, every twitch of his cock and it felt so surreal. Clenching your teeth, your hands search for anything to grip onto — the sheets, the pillow, but your eyes couldn’t help but feast on the view before it.

It felt as if you had already taken his full and like you were about to rip in half. Your hips trembled as he pushed himself deeper, your walls tightening.

“Relax, it’s just my cock, sweetheart.” Gitae grumbles as he feels his cock being squeezed. “Deep breathes, love.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders and his hips suddenly thrust into your warmth, causing you to shudder and choke a sob.

“What’d I tell you ‘bout relaxing, huh? Or are you just going to be screaming this whole night?”

Although those were simple, teasing words — but you really lived up to it. With every vigorous thrust, your fingers trembled yet held their firm grip on his raven hair, toes curling at the pleasure that slammed into your core repeatedly. The room was steamy, hot and it almost felt suffocating — not a negative feeling, rather one that you couldn’t get enough. Sex addicted? That wouldn’t be impossible since his fat cock pounds and slams into your g-spot over and over, yout velvety walls convulsing. It had been so long since you’ve been fucked this good, it almost made you mind break. However before you could completely let go of your sanity, he’d bring you back in with a tender, passionate kiss that was a sharp contrast to the ruthlessness down below.

…

..

.

Back aching, your eyes blinked awake first thing in the morning, ‘The bed next to you must be empty’ you figured, but the warmth next to you said otherwise. A sleeping, naked Gitae lay next to you, softly breathing in and out. You expected him to be gone, disappear, and never come back. Are you disappointed, upset, or relieved? Whatever, it’s not as if you wanted him here, you tell yourself, ignoring his presence. Yet your eyes still lingered in his unconscious form; he looked so peaceful, after all his berating and attitude.

Sitting up, all the memories flooded back into your mind. A part of you felt strangely glad; although things were unclear. That was one way to get a message across, or something – the way your heart rate increased, it told you something, Although illiterate and foreign in the language you spoke, it almost begged you to take a chance and get to know him. It wouldn't hurt to let him play around your heartstrings until he became tied to yours. Even if you end up getting played by this stud it surely couldn't be.. What are you thinking right now?

All of this is a mistake, all of it. From the night he mentioned meeting up once more up to the bed shared together – it's the most naive, braindead decision you've ever made. You thought you were better than this. This was a testament to the independence you built yourself upon.

“Let go of me. I, I’ve got to go.” Pushing off the duvet, the cold air hit your warm body like a step into the real world, like a slap across the face. Thinking it all was just a mistake was just your way of coping through your feelings.

Gitae pulled you in by your wrist into his strong arms which threatened not to let you go. He nuzzled his head upon your shoulder, breath warm against your bare skin.

“Don’t go. I haven't even been able to say I want you.” His voice sent vibrations through your skin, resonating within. “Please, at least let me talk first.”

Usually he seemed cocky and the classic arrogant guy who fools around constantly, yet this time he seemed softer, gentler, revealing a new side of him to you. Building up barriers has always been a sacred part of you that dwelled, and you never let that go. Not once. Image, reputation and things like that have always been imperative to you; everyone must witness you and talk about your presence positively or else you were afraid you'd crumble. So seeing him so vulnerable and weak-looking towards someone who he could've considered a one night stand, it's strange. It almost makes you jealous.

“What's this supposed to mean? Let me go.”

“At Least hear me out first.” He raises his lips to your ear, voice low and raspy as he gently nibbles upon the soft shell. Reluctantly, you nod; it's the least you could do anyway and he deserves it nonetheless.

“It’s not like me to be like this; to be so desperate for what i've never had. It isn't false that the only thing you know about me is my name but something in me wants to take a chance, somewhere further than whatever this complicated mess is. You know, I don't like loose ends.”

With a deep sigh, he finishes talking. The room falls to silence, apart from the sun do the bed sheets rustling as he now sits up, his feet meeting the coldness of the wooden floor.

“It was nice lifting that weight off my shoulders. If.. you have nothing to say, then i guess this is it. I won't bother you anymore.” Gitae clears his throat, unable to hide the troubledness within his voice. To hide everything he would be useless, but it was better than being dishonest.

Lowering your head, your body longed for his body heat mixing with yours, only to be left with disappointment. The more you thought about it the more you could feel a headache slowly coming along..

“Don't go, yet. I..” Trailing off your words, you debated whether to even say it or not; would I ruin everything? This could be an easy street to a smooth ending to all of this, ending it once and for all. Is this the first time ‘trust your gut’ is wrong? “Damn it, I want you too. Let's, uhm, give it a try.”

A smile spreads across his lips, and his soft scoff catches your attention. He throws your clothes over to you before declaring he was going to cook breakfast for the both of you, and fetch you with some painkillers.

Gitae Kim x Reader Word Count: 994 Masterlist

------------------------

Trying to let you know, sending a sign, sending signals. I must let you know, sending a sign, sending signals, sending a sign, sending signals, sending a sign, sending signals, sending a sign, sending signals, I must let you know!

It hadn’t been that long since you first met Gitae Kim. When he came to Korea, you met him at the airport with Goo and Taejin. Goo definitely was curious about this man for many reasons, the main one probably being that he is Gapryong Kim’s eldest son. The moment you laid your eyes on him, your heart skipped a beat. How can a man be so handsome yet somewhat disturbing at the same time.

Deep Tissue Damage Masterlist

TW | Child Abandonment | Murder | Bullying

WC | 2.3K

NOTE | Welcome to Deep Scar Tissue and it's band of misfits! I hope you enjoy :) feel free to leave any comments discussing the series.

SERIES | Prologue | Part One

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Age Eight

“Daddy, where are we going?” your wide eyes peer up at your fathers, the crease between his brows a familiar constant since your uncle had suddenly passed away a week earlier. His car rumbles to a stop before a foreboding building, its towering form a suffocating, pressing presence against your small mind.

Showers of rain patter against the closed windows, smashing and whirling together in the gale-force wind.

Goosebumps shoot across your skin as your father refuses to meet your eyes, his throat clearing awkwardly as his door pops open. Your heart patters faster and faster against your ribcage as he stalks over to the passenger side, another pop of the door echoing in the quiet night. He crouches to your level as he unclicks your seatbelt, his hands clasping your hips as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I love you, sweetheart. Remember that for me, will you?” he murmurs this into your hair before pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I love you too, Daddy,” you say brightly, arms clutching tightly around his middle. “Forever and ever.”

He gives you a watery smile, eyes alight with a pain you’re too young to notice. He places you onto the gravel of the road, had clasping yours as he leads you towards the foreboding building before you. “What’s this place, Daddy?” You ask, head tilting as he leads you toward a woman leaning against the fence blocking entrance to the building.

“You remember Miss Kim, don’t you?” He points toward the cloaked figure, who you instantly recognise after they pull the shadowing hood from their head. “Auntie!” you exclaim, rushing away from your father to hug the only other feminine figure in your life. Your dad had always told you it was just him (your mother had died giving birth to you), so it was a delight to have Miss Kim in your life. She was your role model.  

Her exclamation of your name is reserved, almost… sad?

“Daddy, why are we here?” you ask again from Miss Kim’s arms, eyes flashing with confusion. He lets out a bitter sigh as he crouches before you, placing a gentle hand against your hair. “You can’t be with me anymore, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I love you so much, remember that.”

He rushes off after that, ignoring as Miss Kim hisses his name.  

Wetness pools at your eyes, dripping fast down your cheeks as wails leave your lips. “Daddy! Where are you going? Daddy!” You scream against Miss Kim’s hold, watching your fathers retreating back, as he… abandons you.

“Daddy! Come back, please! I promise I’ll be good, I won’t steal the chocolate from the fridge anymore, I’ll be good, I promise. Come back! Please!” Sobs wrack your small form as you try to escape Miss Kim’s hold.

You notice as his shoulders quiver beneath the unrelenting rain, but he doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge your pained sobs and enraged screams as he leaves you behind. As he abandons you.

You barely acknowledge as Miss Kim drags you through the gate, ignoring as she pleads with you to understand, that she’s sorry. When the pain becomes too much, your turn to rage, to that boiling, sizzling feeling rising in your stomach. Yet even that isn’t enough to plaster the utter agony ripping through psyche, so you build a towering, unbreakable wall around your emotions, settling it around yourself like a comfortable blanket, even with the cracks and fissures etched into the stone. Hiding your true emotions, settling a mask over your emotions.

Miss Kim sighs and looks at you sadly before pounding her knuckles against the towering arched door of the orphanage. Your very own father had abandoned you at an orphanage. He must have really hated you to have abandoned you here. His love and his lies were nothing to you now.

You steel yourself as Miss Kim hands the orphanage lady a large wad of cash before turning to you and giving you one last, haunted look. The klick of her shoes pattering against the flooding concrete pathway echoes in your mind, the sound dimming with each step she takes away from you until you can no longer hear her at all.

You flinch as Madam Choi circles your arm with her hand and drags you across the grounds for a sad try at a tour. The girls’ room is up the arching stairs towards the left; the room itself large and with a domed ceiling. Springy bunk beds line the two walls, the lumpy forms of sleeping girls peeking through the covers. A large, uncovered window lines the far wall, opposite the doorway, illuminating the room with dim rays of light echoing off the moon.  

Madam Choi shoves you to a bottom bunk in the corner of the room, closest to the window, before abruptly leaving. It was then that you realised you’d only had a small pack of underwear and two changes of clothes left from your old life. Your toys, your books, everything… gone.

And so was your family. Despite still being alive, your father had all but become dead to you. You were now an orphan, and you’d act like it.

You unpack the little belongings you have in the small bedside table against the wall and the window before tucking yourself under the covers. You refuse to sob any more than you already have on this day, but you can’t help but let a few stray tears drip down your cheeks as you bury your head against the scratchy, hard pillow on your new bed. The sheets rub uncomfortably against your soft skin, unused to bad-quality sheets.

You feel betrayed, used, like a discarded, useless doll. He had chosen his job over you. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but it kept him away for days at a time, leaving you with that nasty babysitter. You should have know it would have ended like this.

Your father did not love you.

And you hated him.

───── ༺ ♰ ༻ ─────

Age Twelve

The other orphanage kids don’t like you. They hadn’t liked you since your first day here four years ago. They found you too bitter, your sarcasm too rancid, too mean.

You were a bitter mess of a pre-teen, and you hated everyone on sight. So, unsurprisingly, the orphanage kids loved to exclude you. To ridicule you. To hurt you.

Their parents had died, but yours had abandoned you. They were vicious with this information, drilling into your mind, again and again, that your father was an evil man who paid the Madam hush money to be rid of you.

And who would pay hush money but a gangster.

Your father was a filthy swine of a criminal, and you swore to hate him to your deathbed. Hearing the other children’s taunts and vicious quips about him only harden your resolve on your hatred for him.

You start to fight back, yet you’re still a scrawny little kid with gangly limbs and an increasing sense of anxiety. The girls who hate you just get the boys in the orphanage to attack you if you fight back.

The boy’s hits are always so much more painful, so much more humiliating. So, you learn to hide, to avoid, to run. You were exceedingly fast, faster than all the other girls, even the boys.

Madam Choi keeps drilling you about becoming an athlete one day. “You can go far with that speed,” she says one day, as you’re clutching an icepack to the darkening ring of black against your cheek. Madam Choi may try to help you with your injuries, but she doesn’t stop the injuries root cause. Her other wards.

So, one day, as if your body knew you could no longer sustain the constant injuries, the constant hurting, the constant agony (after one event had gone a bit too far and one of the boys had purposefully broken your arm), you vanished.

You could see the fist coming straight towards you. It was one of the bigger, beefier boys, and you knew it would hurt, that you’d be sleeping in agony for the next few days, your brittle bones too weak to handle yet more pain with your arm already in a sling.

Time seemed to slow to a still, the boys arm stopping, almost as if time had frozen, or twirled into slow-motion. You leap to the side, dodging the angry fist.

The meaty boy falls headfirst into the ground, his forehead smacking against the hard concrete floor. You had done it.

You had successfully escaped. No-one could catch you again, ever.

It feels almost… freeing.

───── ༺ ♰ ༻ ─────

Age Fourteen

You leave the orphanage for good just after you turn fourteen, running away to central Seoul where you’re forced to survive on the streets for over a month, stealing food and money before you’re able to secure a tiny room for yourself in a back alley, up in the highest floor of an abandoned, forgotten building. You hate the fact that you were acting like a criminal, like your ghastly father, but you keep telling yourself it’s for survival – to make you feel better about yourself. Over the first few months residing there, you make it as cozy and homely as possible, stealing thrown away furniture and ruffling through household rubbish. You find the best things from the rich neighbourhoods, dragging them down the back alleys of Seoul to get them into your home; a springy mattress, hemmed sheets, and even a lumpy pillow.

You find little decorations and accessories to spruce your room here and there, but it’s hard to find anything of worth. Despite this, you’ve only been looking for a few months. You’re sure more things will pop up over the next few years.

You’d even managed to get yourself enrolled into a local elementary school, with luck and a multitude of forged signatures and fake numbers. Unfortunately, you doubt you’d ever be able to get yourself a phone of your own. They were just too expensive, and you never wracked up enough cash to save as it always went on food and water, which made you antsy to grow up more and get a job of your own.

You sigh, raking a hand through your wayward strands as you walk through the dodgy turf of backstreet Seoul. You need to stop stressing about that damn phone, you were almost certain you could survive without one.

A startled gasp escapes your lips as you smack straight into a wall of solid muscle. You fall backwards onto your ass, the fall winding you as you glance up.

Dark, menacing black eyes peer back into yours, terrifying and blank. You feel shivers wrack across your spine, eyes flinty and anxious as he stares you down. Terror rises in your throat, your anxiety shouting and bellowing behind your erected mental walls, warning you of his terrifying spectre hands reaching into your soul to tear it to bits.

He’s a terrifying, massive teenager who wears a sleek leather jacket, his hair slicked back carelessly behind his ears while a large, daunting axe is clutch tightly in his right hand.

“Ah-sorry. I didn’t see you,” you apologise, hand rubbing at the bruise forming against your forehead. You frown. “Damn, what are you made out of, steel?” you mutter as you rise to your feet. You could honestly use being that strong and steady, especially out here, alone and living by yourself in an abandoned dump.

“What are they feeding you?” you demand, coming closer to peer up at him, ignoring the axe still clenched in his hand. The last thing you care about is dying, and you doubt this steel bugger could even hit you anyway.

You know. Other people have tired over these past months, on many occasions. Despite how much you’d tried to avoid the criminal underground of this city, it keeps following behind you, every step of the way. It’s like there’s no escaping that desecrate father of yours. It’s irritating.

A scatter of air escapes his lips, his eyebrow rising in what almost seems like surprise before it’s masked behind blankness. “Meat.” He says it simply, plainly.

“Huh.” You cross your arms across your chest. “No veggies? You should really eat your veggies you know, it could stunt your growth otherwise.” You pause after that, eyes raking up his towering form. You bring a finger to your bottom lip, tapping it against the plumpness as you ponder. “Though it doesn’t look like that applies to you,” you mutter distractedly.

A chuckle escapes his lips, surprising you- surprising himself, it seems like. “What type of meat anyway? How do I get a steel body like that?” You voice is almost demanding now, eyes peering into his. He’s looking at you strangely, as if he’s never before seen someone like you before, not scared of his axe or him.

He’s about to open his mouth, but a dark, menacing look flashes across his dark eyes. His axe hand slams down so suddenly and so quickly, you weren’t sure you could have dodged it even if it was meant for you.

You hear the splatter and gurgle of blood behind you, the slimy, warm liquid dripping into your hair as you swivel away. Another criminal comes at you out of nowhere, twice your size with twice the muscle mass.

His fist comes down with full force, aiming for your head – but you dodge.

That familiar, swirling energy deep in your stomach blurs to life in an inferno, and your feet move quicker than humanly possible.

An axe slams down on the criminal.

You send leather boy a sheepish smile, trying to ignore the wild, intrigued grin he’s shooting you. You’re not sure you like that look. You step back, “Gotta run. See you,” you give him a salute before using your inferno of energy to disappear like a flash into the night.

You don’t meet the strange man again until a few years later.

SYNOPSIS | Abandoned by your father at a young age, you run away from the orphanage and the shadow of the violent underground criminal world that seems to follow you everywhere you go. Now a fiercely independent university student, you vow to live a perfectly ordinary life, away from the criminal activity of South Korea. But, as your past collides in a crescendo with five of the most dangerous and powerful men in this country, you discover that no matter how fast you try to run, the criminal world you hate refuses to let you escape its clutches.

PARTS | Prologue | Part One | Part Two

TRIGGER WARNINGS | Explicit Sexual Content | Childhood abandonment | Institutional Bullying | Murder | Gang Violence | Reverse Harem | Dark Romance