Unformatted text preview: Blindside
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at .
Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: M/M Fandom: | Bangtan Boys | BTS Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin Character: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS), Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim
Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | RM, Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Seokjin | Jin Additional Tags: Crimes & Criminals, Blood and Violence, Romance, Slow Burn, Sexual
Tension, Light Angst, Gun Violence, Criminal Jeon Jungkook, Criminal
Park Jimin, Partners in Crime, Past Abuse, Jeon Jungkook Is a Genius,
Violence Series: Part 1 of Blindside Stats: Published: 2019-02-12 Completed: 2019-09-09 Chapters: 19/19 Words:
Summary Jeon Jeongguk, under the alias Tattoo, is infamous for his perfectly-strung heists and crimes.
After accidentally leaving a lighter in a crime scene, a bounty is placed for his capture,
sparking a nation-wide manhunt for his identity. He'll do anything to survive– even if it
means opening himself up to vulnerability for the first time in his life. Prologue
See the end of the chapter for notes Crime rates have doubled in the past month in Seoul, specifically around the streets of Itaewon.
Police attribute the influx to a possible new crime lord on the streets… – An excerpt from The Korea Herald on November 12, 2016 A heist at the National Museum of Korea shocks the nation. Three guards found dead. The
Bangasayusang, a masterpiece of Korean Art priced at 50 billion won has been stolen. The National
Police Agency has yet to release a statement. – An excerpt from The Korea Times on November 29, 2016 National Police Agency’s Officer Gi Ji-Hyuk vows to find the men responsible for the robbery and
heist of the National Museum of Korea. The Bangasayusang, considered a national treasure,
remains missing. So far, there are no leads. – An excerpt from The JoongAng Ilbo on November 30, 2016 Photo of a young man with a tattoo on his lower abdomen spotted watching the recent crime scene
unfold. His identity has not been traced, yet netizens believe that he may be the man responsible for
the recent heists. – An excerpt from the Korea Herald on December 2, 2016 According to the National Police Agency (NPA), a witness has stepped forward with a possible hint
at Tattoo’s identity. For more news and updates on this story… – An excerpt from The Korea Times on January 4, 2017 National Police Agency: “The witness that has allegedly discovered Tattoo’s identity bore false
information.” The NPA request for cooperation with the public regarding the submission of
information as false leads may hinder the ongoing investigation. – An excerpt from JoongAng Ilbo on January 7, 2017 Tattoo’s co-conspirator was allegedly seen fleeing a recent crime scene. No information has been
released about the boy’s identity so far… – An excerpt from The Korea Herald on October 13, 2017 Today marks a special day for the National Police Agency. Crime lord Tattoo has reportedly left a
lighter in a recent crime scene. Leading investigator and officer Gi Ji-hyuk states that no prints have
been left behind. However, they are sure that the lighter is custom-made and will be able to trace its
origin, and hopefully owner, in the following weeks… – An excerpt from JoongAng Ilbo on November 9, 2018 BREAKING NEWS: A 2 billion won bounty has been placed for the capture and arrest of Tattoo. If
you have any information about him, please refer to the list below for how you can help... – An excerpt from JoongAng Ilbo on December 1, 2018 Chapter End Notes hi, just some notes before i post chapter 1:
1. i will tag chapters with trigger warnings as this story will have a LOT of violence or
mentions of it. please take care of yourselves when reading
2. this will be jikook-centric but will have some future side ships depending on how the
story carries along.
twitter and my cc One
Chapter Notes t/w: descriptions of violence at the beginning and moreso towards the end ! See the end of the chapter for more notes NEVER ONCE HAS HE GOTTEN CAUGHT IN HIS LIFE.
Age nine. His first crime.
After fleeing from his latest orphanage, which unknowingly became his last, Jeongguk had stumbled
onto the streets of Itaewon. The clock had just stricken, signalling midnight, thus prompting the
flicker of red lights and flashy bar signs. Young, but not innocent, he placed his hands against a gritty
lamppost, watching as a sleek black car slid along the street, coming to a halt beside one of the most
prominent of the clubs. Men in uniformly dark suits poured out of the vehicle, moving their hands to
tug on their collars in an oddly synchronized manner. Jeongguk wasn’t stupid. Those suits, they’d be
He scurried the other way, feeling particularly small as he crossed the street to be faced with more
towering buildings, each lit brighter than the last. He averted his eyes from the signs. grimacing at
how uncomfortable it made him feel. He’d only recently gone fully half-blind, and he knew it from
the way that he truly couldn’t see anything with his right eye. His vision was limited for the rest of
his life and he wasn’t going to risk losing the other.
Jeongguk stepped into a small alleyway, feeling at home with the cold, empty darkness. He figured
that he could make his home there for the night, so he placed his backpack against the moss-covered
stone wall adjacent to a rank-smelling set of trash bags. He wrinkled his nose. At that moment, he
wished he could lose his sense of smell instead.
He fell asleep easy, to the backing track of distant sirens, men’s jeers and the occasional pitter-patter
of water down the rooftops. He had woken up, however, to the sound of brazen footsteps against the
ground, pounding and adamant. He blinked his eyes open, suddenly feeling uneasy. A man walked
towards him. Jeongguk could smell the scent of gin from meters away. The young boy– he was
terrified. The man kept coming closer and closer until it was no longer an option for him. He grabbed
Jeongguk by the arm and twisted menacingly.
“W–what ‘re you doing here, all on ‘yer own?” The man slurred and tugged.
Jeongguk felt panic. He couldn’t see the man from the way he was standing, and he fought to get a
good look at him. Jeongguk had to twist more before he found the diamond in the pile of shit this
alleyway had to offer. The moonlight casted a sickly light onto a half-broken bottle of soju. Jeongguk
writhed from the man’s grasp, grabbed the bottle and stabbed him, right in the jugular.
Nine year old Jeon Jeongguk, the half-blind orphanage runaway, had killed a man.
It marked the beginning of something new for him. Jeongguk was a smart kid. He’d wiped the prints
away from the surface of the bottle. He’d grabbed his bag and ran as far as he could, until he
couldn’t breathe and his vision got foggy. It was dawn by the time he’d settled somewhere else. An alleyway opposite to the previous one, all the way on the other side of Itaewon. That evening, he’d
listened, far and wide and he found that he could hear the police sirens. One look at the newspaper
stand the following day and he knew he was scot-free. The article warned midnight on goers to stay
safe and to drink responsibly. Nowhere on the paper was there any evidence that he was the
So he turned to stealing after that. He got pretty damn good at what he did. He’d scaled walls as easy
as a fucking spider. He’d knocked out men twice his size. By fourteen, he had enough money from
doing dirty work, so he applied to a local high school. Nothing too fancy, but enough to hopefully
get him into university one day. He sat down the entrance test, passed it with full marks, not because
he actually knew the answers but because he had gotten so good at self-preservation and survival
instinct that everything was a game of logic to him. He’d easily figured out that the test had an
alternating answer pattern. Poor them , Jeongguk thought as he finished, handed it in.
It was the final month of his freshman year when he’d met senior Kim Seokjin, a broad-shouldered
boy who wore his black leather shoes with extra polish. Jeongguk would’ve been intimidated by him
if it weren’t for the fact that it clicked, all of a sudden, in his head. Kim Seokjin; he’d seen the boy
before. He was working on the streets too. Not one of the lower jobs, but he was in high demand,
Jeongguk remembered. So on that day, he sat in front of Seokjin in the library.
The boy fixed him with a still gaze, questioning. “Have we met before?”
“No. But I know who you are.” Jeongguk took a sip from his milk box.
Seokjin’s eyes shifted from the box, back to him. “I can’t say the same about you. Who do you think
“Hm. I don’t know if you’ve got one of those aliases. But I know that you deal with Daniel.”
Daniel had been one of the most prominently-known and adored crime lords back then. He’d hired
Seokjin reccuringly for jobs, taking out high-profile scammers and corrupt politicians. Jeongguk
knew this because he knew everything. He learned to asorb information from his environments better
than a sponge would water.
The senior had looked around before he turned back to Jeongguk, who felt superiority swell in his
chest. Seokjin had no clue. He had said, “Do you deal with Daniel?”
“No. I don’t deal with anybody. But I’m willing to let this slide if you help me out a bit.” There were
a lot of things on his mind. College, mostly.
“Fine. Name it.” Seokjin leaned back, his interest clearly swept by his persistent attitude.
“A full ride to Seoul National University. A recommendation letter, even, maybe. I want out of this
high school as soon as possible. Get me in a position where I can take the entrance exam. I’ll pass it,
and we’re all good here.”
So at the age of sixteen, Jeongguk was a freshman at Seoul National University, passing the entrance
exam with perfect marks. People labelled him as a genius. Jeongguk was nowhere near genius. He
was all tact. He and Seokjin remained friends. Or acquaintances. Or just people who knew each
other– Jeongguk didn’t know. He didn’t care about the older boy anyway. He took university
seriously on his first year, studying political sciences. On the second year, he was recommended for
law school after a professor had been utterly struck by a paper he'd written.
Halfway through the school year, he’d decided to get a tattoo. A large dragon curling down his shoulder, down his back and ending at his hip bone. He mostly got it because he wanted to feel any
sort of pain, to see if he was still human. He’d realized at this point, that after all the crimes, all the
terrible, terrible things he’d done, he’d felt strangely numb to everything. As the tattoo artist grazed
down his back with the pen, Jeongguk’s suspicions were just about right. He felt nothing.
At the age of seventeen, he’d grown in popularity in the bounds of Itaewon. He always had people
doing this and that for him. If somebody wanted to deal with him, he’d send a poor boy who he’d
pay money to later on for his work. And if his messengers even so much as thought about revealing
who he was, or how he looked like, Jeongguk found them before they could even complete that
thought. And he wouldn’t hesitate to slit their throats.
He was generous when he wanted to be. If you crossed him, he’d end you.
His first personal contact with anybody, really, was with Park Jimin. He’d been sitting alone in one
of the bars, listening into the bar talk. The ongoing feuds between other crime lords. Drug dealers.
Smugglers– he sat there like the wallflower they all assumed him to be. Jeongguk watched as Park
Jimin, the lithe-figured boy, asked for a job in the backrooms. He’d never heard of anybody willing
to work in the backrooms voluntarily, much less a place as low as this. Jeongguk didn’t have to look
at Jimin twice to make the assumption that he was too good for this place. So when the club owner
was busy, Jeongguk approached him.
“I don’t work here,” Jimin had said immediately, casting him no more than a glance before turning
“Yet,” Jeongguk responded.
“Fuck off, dude.”
“I’ll buy you an apartment. I pay well. Just don’t work here.” There it was. Jeongguk could see a
ticket sticking out from the back of his bag with a string tied around it. It’s a ticket to one of those
dying acrobat acts. His mind flew back to what he’d heard, just in the previous week. Somebody had
burned their troupe tent down.
Jimin looked at him incredulously. “I’m not a cheap whore you can buy and pamper,” he hissed. He
must have been so offended. He shoved Jeongguk. “Fuck off.”
“I don’t want to have sex with you. I want to give you a job,” Jeongguk responded calmly.
The boy grit his teeth, contemplating. But Jeongguk knew that he had no way out. It was either the
backrooms or his offer. “What job?”
“Be my bodyguard.”
Truth is, and was, Jeongguk didn’t need a bodyguard at all. But he wanted one, just for the sake of
giving Jimin the money he needed when he needed it. And because if he had somebody as ballsy as
Jimin on his side, it wouldn’t hurt.
And it all did pay off.
Never once has he gotten caught in his life.
Up until now.
Jeongguk sifts through the newspapers languidly. All of the police officers that’ve been reeled in by
the news companies to vow their lives to finding out the identity of Tattoo , the name they’d given to him after a little shirt lift incident during one of his many heists. He picks up his phone, one of his
burners, and dials for Jimin– he has the boy’s number memorized to the dot. He picks up after the
third ring like he always does.
“I need something done,” Jeongguk states, flinging the whole pile of newspapers into the fireplace in
front of his sad leather couch.
“Do it yourself,” Jimin hums from across the line.
“It’s not a hassle. I want you to pass a message along. To Seokjin. Thirteenth street, 2nd house from
the convenience store, just to the left. I want the man dead.”
There’s shuffling on the other end. Then Jimin’s voice sounds much closer. “First of all, why do you
need me to ask Seokjin. Second, who are you targeting?”
“You act as if I don’t know you’re sucking Seokjin off,” Jeongguk scoffs. “It’s the person who
customized the lighter found at the heist. The one I left behind. They’re going to trace it, and he’ll
spill. I want him gone.”
“Why don’t you send me? I’m bored.”
“I don’t send you, because if something goes wrong, I don’t have a backup Park Jimin.”
“It’s like you actually care about me.”
Jeongguk throws on a coat. “Get it done. Either you or Seokjin, I don’t care. Get it done.”
“Okay, Tattoo. ”
Jeongguk’s walking down the street that same day, when he hears a brief set of footsteps from his
right. He can’t see who it is– his cursed blind eye won’t let him, but he knows it’s Jimin. “What did I
tell you about sneaking up on that side?” He calls over his shoulder. He’ll never let Jimin know, but
he feels so damn uncomfortable whenever Jimin does it. Jimin’s the only one who knows his biggest
fatal flaw and it makes his skin crawl at the thought of Jimin one day stabbing him in the back. He’s
thought about it so many times that he’s ready, but he isn’t sure if he likes entertaining the idea at all.
“Sorry.” Jimin moves to his other side. The strange, tingling sensation of unease dissipates from the
small of his stomach.
“Did you do what I asked?” Jeongguk has no time for apologies, or conversation, or anything.
“Seokjin expects a nice wire transfer tonight.”
“Can’t I just send you to him?”
“Uh. No. I don’t like Seokjin.” Jimin peers over at him. Jeongguk glances. He looks worried.
“Please wipe that look off your face. I didn’t hire you to be my mother,” he mutters.
Jimin huffs out. “You actually hired me to be your bodyguard. I’m worried. Not about you, but
about the whole situation. It’s basically a nationwide manhunt for you. Aren’t you worried?”
“Not as much as I should be,” Jeongguk responds. He spots the building of his interest quickly. He
stops in the middle of the stone-stepped street, Jimin halting too. He glances the building up and down. There’s a fire escape down the left. A broken door to the fourth floor, which means that if
they needed a way out, they’d have to sprint from all the way on the seventh. The way in, Jeongguk
thinks, is easy. The front door is guarded by a bearded man, weighing on the heavier side. He’s halfasleep now. He probably has children at home waiting for him to reap in the petty earnings.
This building is important to him. Jeongguk knows that at the second-to-the-highest floor, one of the
more underground crime lords is operational. Min Yoongi. He doesn’t bother censoring his name.
His business is so deeply embedded into bedrock that cops probably don’t even have a single record
of him. Unlike Jeongguk, who likes to leave a bit of a wreckage left and right.
“Ally or enemy?” Jimin questions,
“I don’t know yet. Min Yoongi. You hear anything about him?”
“Oh. Yeah, he’s trying to get his claws on the more cyber side of things now. Less prints, he says,”
Jimin remarks, tipping his head to the side. “Why? Do you need him for something?”
“Not yet. But if this whole thing blows me over, I’ll need all the help I can get.”
“Min Yoongi’s hot,” Jimin muses. When Jeongguk looks at him, he sees Jimin’s eyes. They’re on
the building, scanning every surface, every ledge, every crack in the concrete. Jimin has a lot of
strengths, like aerobics and gymnastics, but neither can compare to how flawlessly he can scale a
vertical wall. Jeongguk has some experience himself from when he was younger, but he can’t do it
as well as Jimin does.
Briefly, Jeongguk’s eyes dart to the older boy’s lips, which are quirked just enough for him to know
that Jimin’s teasing with his comment. It’s always been in his nature to be feisty, flirty. Jeongguk
doesn’t like these thoughts. He doesn’t like looking at Jimin and he never does for too long, knowing
that something menacing is bound to stir in the depths of his heart. Jimin’s allure is like the ocean. A
look too long and you don’t realize how far deep into it you re until you’re drowning.
Jeongguk doesn’t want to drown.
He looks away, “We have a few more places to look at. Let’s go.”
Jeongguk’s fine when Jimin walks or stays to his right side. It’s uncomfortable and he doesn’t like it
when Jimin sneaks up on him from that side, but it’s so much better than leaving his blind spot
unfilled. Unknowingly, Jimin’s become a part of him. A crutch, of some sort, helping him navigate
without losing balance. He takes caution in the fact that he’s beginning to rely on Jimin a bit more
than he likes, but at the same time, he has to give the older boy the benefit of the doubt. Jeongguk’s
been such an asshole to him for a while now, it’s surprising, actually, how Jimin hasn’t taken
advantage of his disability and stabbed him in the back yet.
They walk together down the road in silence. It goes on for half an hour, Jeongguk leading Jimin
blindly down the lanes, down the cobblestone paths and stretches. It’s when they make another turn,
when Jimin breaks. “I don’t get why you don’t invest in a car.”
Jeongguk has enough money to buy hundreds of cars. “Are you tired?” He asks, already knowing
“Then stop complaining. We’re almost there.” Jeongguk steps ahead. Undoubtedly, Jimin follows.
It takes Jimin a few beats to realize where they are. Right after they come to a stop in front of the
house. “Isn’t this… Uh, Taehyung. Kim Taehyung’s house?” Jeongguk nods. “Yeah.”
“Is this because of the rumors? That Jung’s going for him?”
Jeongguk takes out a box from his back pocket. It’s one of those unbelievably expensive rings you
get at those high-end shops. Taehyung, Jeongguk hears, is a man of luxury, so if he’s going to
weasel his way into the boy’s mind, he’s going to have to dangle the biggest stone in front of him.
Jimin grabs his hand, or at least, attempts to. Jeongguk moves his arm back. Jimin grabs his...
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