Tʜᴀᴛ Mᴀsᴋᴇᴅ Sᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ 🔞

σld fríєndѕ αnd dírtч ѕєcrєtѕ 🌶️

TAEHYUNG

After leaving her place, I sat in my car, trailing my bottom lip with my thumb. Fisting her hair in my hand in that basement, I'd bit down on my lip until I tasted blood.

Splitting my flesh was the least of my worries. Being near her in a conscious state is driving me more mad than I ever thought imaginable. There's nothing I crave more than to break this girl. To show her how broken the world around her really is. To destroy that light within her that bleeds out through those innocent eyes, allowing her to see me in the darkness. Tonight. Tonight, I'll show her that destructive truth.

I see it every time I'm near her now. She's receptive to my masculinity. Wanting to be claimed the way a woman of her purity can only dream. I can feel it crawling beneath that porcelain skin. She wants to free herself from the chains of these rules that were meant to suppress her true desires.
I'll show her how to scream. I'll be the voice she never knew she needed.

But first, another job.

A visit with an old friend to gain some knowledge. The dirt swept beneath the rug of the men in power was piling up, and exposure was becoming more appealing than the simplicities of the job they paid me to do.

Walking into the nightclub, I feel the familiar thump of the bass rocking through my chest, the steady flashing of red lights melting bodies into one another in a bleeding mess of intoxication. Making my way towards the private rooms near the back, I greet two large men standing tall with their arms crossed over their chests, one with a beard, one without.

"Here for Jungkook," I tell the man in front of me.

His eyes narrow and his arms cross tighter, but he does nothing to move or respond.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I say, looking over at the other guard standing like a statue.

I pull the guns from the back of my pants, holding one to the man's temple and holding the other out toward the other idiot.

"H-how'd he get that in here?" the other guard asks, choking on his words, backing with his arms raised.

"Apparently it doesn't take brains or a set of balls to work the fucking door, eh?" I say, shaking my head. "HERE FOR JUNGKOOK!" I repeat, tapping the barrel of the gun on the man's head.

The man fumbles behind him, pressing the call button.
I smirk at both men, enjoying the fear they are emitting, almost wondering why this is so easy, before the door behind them opens and I see the man I'm here to see.
Jungkook's grin stretches across his face immediately before he cocks a brow, eyeing the guns I have pointed at his men.

"I shouldn't be surprised, really." He turns, nodding his shaved, tatted-up head along for me to follow him. I give the boys at the door a quick wink before tucking away my guns and following Jungkook.

"Yeah, I know," he begins, walking his lengthy form down the dimly lit hall as he talks. "They aren't the smartest of the crew, but they pack the most punch. It scares most people away." He turns back to look at me, before stopping in front of a black door with a red window. "Not that you're most people, clearly."

Jungkook knows me better than anyone else. He knows the depths of my insanity. Serving time together will have you making friends you never thought you would, keeping company with all the wrong people. The people that find your creative criminal and shine it into something more intriguing and more talented than ever before. Prison is an education, one I gained many skills from.

He owns and operates a strip club and bar that washes money for the underground drug Lords. Not only does he dabble in his own supply, both women and drugs, but he also gets paid off by politicians, representatives of the church, and outstanding citizens of our sweet and green community to keep his mouth shut about what happens behind his closed doors. He's got no ties to anyone. No one but me.