My You | Jungkook FanFic

Three.

Wren sat in the passenger seat of Han's SUV, her arms folded defiantly across her chest. 

"You'd think I was taking you to prison with the look on your face," Sang observed. 

After Wren's mother found out about the latest underground fight Wren fought in, she'd taken away her car privileges. 

Wren was nineteen years old, but her parents ran her entire life so it was impossible to retaliate against them. She was under their roof after all and so that meant she was subject to their rules. 

So her precious Lambo was sitting in the garage, alone, and isolated. Wren pouted, imagining that her car could actually miss her, but really it was just her missing the leather interior and sleek steering wheel. Wren actually ached to feel the clutch beneath her fingertips again. 

"I hate dress fittings," Wren huffed as they headed into town to her mother's favorite dress store. Wren's mother easily spent thousands on dresses to make Wren look perfect for whatever political event she was being forced to attend. She hated the whole process, putting on a million dresses, being perused like some sort of prized doll. And then it always took hours. It felt endless. 

"Try and placate your mother. It'll be over before you know it, and then you'll get your car back and be on your way to disobeying their wishes in a weeks time," Sang said light heartedly.  

Wren turned to glare at him. Sang may look tough on the outside, but he was a weirdo on the inside. 

He sat behind the wheel, bobbing his head to the beat of the music that was playing over the  speakers. 

"What is this you're listening to?" Wren asked with disgust, reaching to change the channel. 

"Not so fast!" Sang reached out to block her hand from hitting the next button. 

Wren raised a brow. "This BTS again?" Her bodyguard had an obsession. He was just like the girls that Wren went to prep school with. Only Sang didn't have pictures of the band members glued onto the top of his notebooks. He was just a junkie for their music. It was all he listened to. 

"Maybe," Sang's eyes were bright with delight. This man was in his late thirties. Thirsting after seven men in their twenties from South Korea. She gave him an incredulous expression. 

"Butter?" Wren's nose wrinkled at the name she read on the dashboard. It wasn't that the song was bad. It actually had a catchy beat. But Wren wasn't about to admit that. 

"You're such a grump," Sang said, chuckling. 

"Maybe I wouldn't be such a grump if I wasn't being held against my will," Wren said, sticking her tongue out at him. 

"Oh, look, we're here," Sang smirked at her as he pulled up to the curb. Wren groaned. 

Wren stepped out and dragged her feet all the way into the dress store. The worker knew her by name and welcomed her with a big, fat smile, with teeth so white they couldn't possibly be real. 

"Welcome back, Wren. Your dressing room is ready for you." Ara guided her to the private section of the store to the dressing area that was as large as her bedroom at home. 

There were plush sofas and side tables with glasses of fruit and champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. A crystal chandelier cast little shadows of rainbow light onto the walls and the sleek silver curtains that covered the dressing rooms. Giant floor to ceiling mirror finished off the extravagant look and Wren gave another audible sigh. 

Sang took his usual place on the sofa, and took our his book and began reading. Sometimes he got though a whole novel with how long her dress fittings went. 

"I have a couple options for you." Ara held out a variety of silk gowns some glittering with gems and others plain and simple with fitted bodices and flaring skirts. 

"Whatever you think will look best," Wren said, knowing it was easier to just let them choose because they wouldn't end up listening to her opinion anyway. 

"I was thinking black this time," Ara suggested, holding out a glistening gown that looked like it would fit like a glove to Wren's body. 

"Sure, why not," Wren took the fabric, noting that it most definitely was going to itch the crap out of her. But she didn't argue and she went into the dressing room to change. 

With a few grunts and tugs she managed to pull the dress up around her body. She barely had any boobs but the dress showed off different parts of her body that made up for her lack of chest. 

It formed to all her curves and was sleeveless, show casing her toned biceps. Wren liked showing off her arms. She flexed her bruised hands in the mirror, taking pride in the black and blue shadows on her knuckles. Wren felt a sudden pang of sadness knowing she wouldn't be getting back in the ring for at least a couple weeks. She was already wound so tight that day she could've fought ten opponents.

This was going to be a long few weeks, Wren thought to herself. 

Wren gave a grumble and then ripped back the curtains, walking out to show Ara and Sang the dress. She stood in front of the mirror and watched the glimmer of the sequins on the dress shine beneath the crystal light of the chandelier. Wren had to admit, it was a gorgeous dress. It went well with her short dark hair and blue eyes. If Wren was a pristine girly girl this would be right of up her alley. But she wasn't, and she found herself wanting to rip the fabric off her skin and then change into a pair of shorts and a tank top that would've been much more comfortable. 

"What do you think?" Wren asked, not really caring at all what they thought. 

"It's stunning," Ara gasped, walking over to assess the dress on her body more intimately. The dress fitter ran her hands along the sides, checking the fit and the way it laid on Wren's body. 

"You look beautiful," Sang said, not even glancing up from his book. 

Wren rolled her eyes. 

"Will my mom like it?" Wren asked Ara, knowing that was really her one way ticket out of the dress store. 

"She's going to love it!" Ara assured her. "Let me just get the pins and I'll make some alterations before you leave." 

"Sure," Wren said, biting back her sassy retorts about how long such alterations were going to take. 

Ara left to grab the pins and returned moments later. Thankfully the pinning process only took about fifteen minutes. Sometimes it could take an hour. Then Ara said she could get out of the dress and then Wren was back in her normal clothes and making a beeline for the store's exit. 

Sang took his time getting off the sofa. He bowed in thanks to Ara, using good manners for the both of us, before he came out to meet me by the car door. 

I already had my hands clasped around the handle, tugging on it before I was even unlocked. 

"You're such a child," Sang said with a sigh. 

She gave the door handle a couple more tugs before the door clicked open and Wren quickly jumped into the passenger seat. 

Sang slipped into the driver seat a few moments later and then turned to give her a knowing look. 

"You hungry?" he asked, and Wren immediately nodded. It was tradition for him to take her to get lunch after the torture of dress fittings. 

She grinned at him. "Starved." 

"Chicken or Barbecue?" Sang asked as he pulled away from the curb. 

A|N: 

I know its been a while since I've updated but I'm currently working on another project and I have to complete it by November. But I'll do my best to keep writing in this story as often as possible. Wren is super fun to write and I can't wait to continue the story! Don't forget to vote and leave a comment if you are enjoying this story! 

~Sasha