The Girl With The Raven Tattoo (Jungkook x reader)

Bar Fights and Pastel Colors

Your outfit^

Y/n's pov.
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A groan leaves my lips, slamming the shot glass down onto the bar, licking my lips. My mafia, the tilting tower that I built on a foundation of my pain and loss that I became ruler over, is a never ending cycle of grief and victory. We lost one of our men tonight, if only I had acted faster, he may still have been alive. His cry of pain from the bullet still echos in my mind. But from his sacrifice we took down the opposing gang challenging my rule. Grief and victory.

"Goddamnit," The curse leaves my lips, my hands tugging at my hair.

He had been shot while the rest of our squadron was focused on securing the gang boss and the rest of his surviving men. He had died bravely, but now is the time to mourn. He was a good man, a good shot, too. I just wish I could have saved him. An image of his dying form makes me grimace, downing another shot. A shout from across the room grabs my attention, and I see a couple of older men harassing what looks like a 16 year old, with the clothing he's wearing. He has on an oversized pale blue hoodie, skinny jeans and a pair of converse. I almost laughed, seeing his girlish outlook. No doubt he's a sub.

At your 18th birthday, you get a tattoo on your body that puts you in a category for the rest of your life, determining what role you will have in your relationships. Dominates get an animal tattoo, switches a rose, and submissives get a spiral design. I'm already twenty, and I had gotten my tattoo two years ago. My tattoo is a raven on my upper back. I always thought the raven was a reminder and symbol of all the death in my life. I've been on my own since sixteen, my family all being murdered while I was at a friend's house, blissfully unaware of the horrid sight I'd come back to at home. My parents both shot through the head, their bodies laying next to each other as their almost dried blood, flooded the stairs. Running upstairs with tears in my eyes to see what had happened to my siblings. Closing my eyes, I pushed the door open to Mina's room. A gasp had left my body, seeing my little sister hanging from her ceiling, a dripping grin carved viciously onto her cheeks. I could barely look into the crib on the other side of the room, once holding baby Jisoo, to find the baby with a slit throat, blood staining his sheets to a bright and somber red. I grabbed his baby blanket, that he could never bare to part with, and shakily sprinting out of the room. Stumbling to my older brother Minho's room, only to find his neck snapped, his whole body bruised, showing his resistance to the murderers. I had collapsed, weeping over my brother's body, the closest one to me in my whole family. Minho was always up and ready to fight for me, always calling to check up on me at school and when he wouldn't be home until late. I stayed there until morning, hugging  Minho's copse until the police arrived and physically separated me from him. Ever since then, I had been a ruthless killer for hire. Because I had been studying as a forensic scientist student, I knew how to kill my targets without a flaw. By the age of eighteen, I had a huge following, people lining up to follow my orders. By nineteen I was at the top of the mafia. I had killed the head leader myself, and sat myself on his throne to lead. Ever since my family was killed, I ruled over the strong, no longer as weak as I used to be. The thing that kept me in power was my cold but fair sense of judgment. I would not hesitate to have traitors killed, but at the same time, I would spare innocents that were not involved in our workings.

The loud beating of the club's music brings me back to my senses. I glanced back over at the trio, downing yet another shot of liquor.

When the man pushed the boy against the counter, I stand up with a sigh. I stroll over to the men, leaning up against the bar right beside them.

"What the fuck do you want?" One of the men hissed at me, baring his teeth.

He was well matured, probably in his 30's, and his eyes glinted with bad intent. His hands were straying behind the young boy's front, groping at his ass. His companion behind him just had a sick smirk on his face, eyeing my attire. I scoffed at the other man, rolling my eyes when he stepped closer to me.