ɪɴᴋᴇᴅ ʙy ᴀ ᴍᴀꜰɪᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ( ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ ꜰꜰ )

chap 28

Y/n

Six years later

“Don’t be a baby,” I tease, as I apply the tattoo gun to jungkook’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Daddy,” Emily sings, swinging her legs back and forth from the counter. “Don’t be a baby.”

Jungkook chuckles as he turns to look at me. My husband’s back is ripped with muscle, his bare skin making it clear how powerful he is and that age could never slow him down.

His smile is full of love, his eyes full of banter and joy.

“I see how it is,” he says. “You’re ganging up on me.”

We all laugh, knowing it’s a joke and that we only ever want the best for each other.

That’s what a family is. That’s why Jungkook is getting this tattoo. There’s Emily, our oldest, precocious enough to sit in here.

She isn’t squeamish a bit, an adventurous girl with – people say – my brown hair and her father’s sharp eyes.Then there’s Jamie, our four year old, currently with his Aunt Izzy and Olga in the main house.

And finally, there’s our newest, little Angela, sleeping in her crib.

I look down at the tattoo, applying another detail.

Jungkook sits calmly, but every now and then, he pretends to wince, making Emily laugh like crazy. It makes me giggle, too, all of us caught up in the joke.

Emily starts to sing along to the radio, her voice shifting,
lilting up and down.

“That’s amazing,” Jungkook says. “You could be a real singer, Emily.”

“Really, Daddy?”

“Definitely,” he says. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“Mommy?” Emily says. “Do you really think I could be a singer?”

“Hmm,” I say, brushing down the tattoo. “I don’t know. Let me hear a couple more lines.”

Emily puts her all into it, holding an imaginary microphone and tilting her head from side to side as if summoning up the notes.

I cheer and whistle, smiling over at her.

She beams back at me. I recognize her face, sometimes,
when her cheeks get flushed and the nervousness creeps into her eyes. It’s like me, except Emily will never have to worry about the stuff that happened to me.

We’re going to protect her, all our children, always.Leaning forward, I study the tattoo, almost completed.

It shows all of us, a new addition coming with every new child. It shows me and it shows Emily. It shows Jungkook and Jamie and, now, it shows Angela.

I brush down the lettering and then nod, standing up.

“You’re done. I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly, husband.”

He tosses me a wink as he stands, grinning with that intoxicatingly tempting cheekiness. “You didn’t win all those awards by making mistakes.”

My heart whelms, and everything gets brighter, more significant, sweeter.

I love how he’s always supported me, how he encouraged me in my tattooing career, and how he taught me. I remember the long sessions, his huge hand covering mine, showing me the best technique.

And now I have a successful career, alongside jungkook’s businesses, all of them legitimate now.

Jackson is in prison, and the Chinese mob is a shell of its former self.

We’re moving up in the world, but most importantly, we’re protecting and loving our family.

We’re protecting and loving each other, always.

“What do you think, honey?” I scoop Emily into my arms and walk over to Jungkook.

“Um, let me see,” she says, tapping her finger against her chin. “I think it’s amaziiiiiing.”

She sings the last word, making us all laugh, and then she throws her arms around me and gives me a kiss.

“Thanks for letting me see, Mommy.”

I hug her in return, laying my cheek against hers, savoring the simple wonderful impossible fact that this little girl came from us. We made her.

We made this life, this future, this heaven.

💋

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