From Reluctance to Desire: A Mafia Story [JJK]

✨BOUND BY BULLETS AND KISSES✨

JUNGKOOK POV:

That kiss.

It wasn't just a kiss—it was a claim, a promise, a reckoning. Like something that had always been meant to happen, as if fate had been leading us here from the start. She felt right in my arms, like she belonged there. And I wasn't the type to let go of something that belonged to me.

I grinned, the thrill of the moment still coursing through me. She was the one challenge I couldn't conquer, the one constant who never backed down. And now, after that kiss... well, sweetheart, you're mine.

When I finally pulled back, I took a steadying breath, feeling the shift between us like an electric charge. "We'll keep training," I murmured, my voice lower now, the weight of my words lingering between us. "But things are different now."

Her eyes locked onto mine, filled with something unspoken—excitement, uncertainty, maybe even want. "Yeah," she whispered, nodding, a faint smile playing at her lips. "They are."

I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, my thumb lingering against her cheek longer than necessary. A part of me wanted to pull her back in, to kiss her again until I memorized every curve and every breath. But I forced myself to step back. The tension between us crackled, thick, undeniable.

The silence stretched, both of us catching our breath, still caught in the aftermath. Then, she let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Well... that's definitely not what I expected during training."

I smirked, watching the way her cheeks flushed despite her attempt to play it off. "Neither did I," I admitted, my grin widening. "Guess I was just too distracted by you, sweetheart."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, lips twitching as if she wanted to scowl—but I caught the flicker of amusement there. She turned, picking up the gun I had set aside earlier. "If I'm such a distraction, maybe you should focus on yourself  for once," she teased. "We both know I could still kick your ass in a fight."

She winked, tossing the gun at me, and I caught it with ease, rolling my shoulders.

"Really?" I arched an eyebrow, more than ready to play her game. The kiss still lingered in my mind, but her fire—her sharp tongue, her refusal to back down—was what had drawn me to her in the first place.

"Let's make this interesting," I murmured, stepping closer. Her expression shifted, curiosity flashing in her eyes.

I tilted my head, smirk never fading. "You win, you get to say whatever you want. But if I win..." I let the words hang in the air, watching as her lips parted slightly. "You owe me another kiss."

Her eyes widened, barely perceptible, but I caught it. The slight flicker of hesitation, of intrigue. But then, just as quickly, she straightened, crossing her arms as she matched my smirk.

"Oh, you think you can win that easily?" Her voice was bold, unwavering.

I shrugged. "What can I say? I like to win."

"Fine," she shot back. "But you better be ready to lose."

I watched as she stepped back to the target, rolling her shoulders, eyes sharpening with focus. And for a moment, I almost forgot about the bet. Watching her like this—strong, unwavering, completely in control—sent something dark and possessive curling in my chest.

She lifted her weapon, took a breath, and fired.

The shot rang out, hitting dead center. Perfect.