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writtenwhalien · 4 months ago

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a lover's redemption | chapter 1

chapter 1. way down we go

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 10k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and share xoxoxox i'll confirm the release date of chapter 2 soon—this fic is a lot of work lol so in the meantime pls enjoy this longer chapter <3 and i used korean family names bc its a jimin fic and its hard to try and think of any other way that flows/to not use names, sorry not sorry, just imagine what you want xx

14th September 2003

“That’s it, good girl, Y/N—ow!”

Your dad clutched his leg after a particularly hard roundhouse kick to his thigh.

“Haha, well done, Y/N,” your granddad laughed from the side, clapping his hands in praise of you which motivated you to keep going.

Going in for another front punch, you dodged your dad’s punches – which he pulled to avoid hurting you – and then you came in with a sharp jab to his ribs.

“Ah, gosh, okay, okay,” he chuckled, taking a step back off the mat. “I think we should finish for the day, I’m gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow.”

“Was I good?” you asked, eager to hear your dad’s compliments as always.

“You were amazing, dear,” your granddad said, stepping forward and ruffling your hair. “You remember what I told you, yes?”

“Yes,” you nodded, stating the next words like a mantra. “Self defence is a state of mind that begins with the belief you are worth defending.” It’s what your granddad had told you since you started training last year at the age of five.

“Still got it,” your dad smiled, kneeling down to help you pull off your shin guards. “You can show Jae-ho the combination tomorrow, but for now, let’s go get ready for dinner before your mom kills me.”

Beaming, you ripped your gloves off. “Can we go again before class tomorrow?”

“Of course we can,” your dad said, patting your back, and together you raced out of the summer room and back into the house, as your granddad followed leisurely behind you.

“Mom, I learned a new combination today!” you beamed, climbing up onto the stool at the breakfast counter.

Your mom smiled at you, her apron covered in flour as she puts a tray into the oven. “That’s amazing sweetie, I’ll watch it tomorrow when Jae-ho comes over, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching over and taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

Taking off her apron, your mom walked around the counter towards you. “Ah, your hair is all sweaty, you must have been working really hard.” She took out your hair tie, combing through your hair with her fingers.

“Ow,” you grimaced, still munching on your apple. “It was really hot.”

She laughed. “I’m sure it was.”

“There she is!” The sound of your grandma’s voice made you turn around. She smiled as she came towards you. “Let’s get you bathed before dinner.”

“Do I have to?” you grumbled.

Your grandma paused, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?”

Laughing, you hopped off the stool and ran towards the door. “It’s you, grandma!”

“What?!” She laughed with mock surprise, looking at your mom. “Is it me?”

“Hm…” Your mom paused and played along, sniffing your grandma. “Nu-uh.” She looked at you. “I think it’s coming from our pretty princess over there.”

“I thought so,” your grandma smiled, before she and your mom proceeded to chase you through the house while you ran down the corridors and laughed gleefully. As you jumped on your parents bed, trying to make a beeline for their bathroom door, your mom caught you, cuddling you and smothering you in kisses before you eventually had to have a bath. Your grandma styled your hair in a ponytail with a pretty headband of your choice. You chose a blue one to match your dress and together you made your way downstairs.

As you entered the living room, your dad turned around and behind him stood a tall man with dark hair neatly slicked back.

“Y/N, honey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” your dad said, smiling reassuringly as he took your hand.

You’d met a lot of your dad’s friends and they all seemed nice. But this man was different. He didn’t look kind at all. As you approached, your attention was stolen by a boy standing close behind the man. He looked around your age, with brown hair and brown eyes. His cheeks were round and rosy which gave him a playful and friendly appearance, except for the unmistakable fact that he looked scared.

“This is my friend, Jihoon, and his son, Jimin.”

At first you felt nervous, looking between your dad and the big stern looking man beside him. Glancing at your grandma, you eased up when she nudged you and smiled.

“Why don’t you say hello, Y/N?” she said.

Your dad kneeled down as you looked up at the man. “You can say hello if you want, sweetie.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N,” the man said, his lips curving into what must’ve meant to have been a smile — you thought it made him look scarier. “I’m your uncle Jihoon.” He extended his hand.

Timidly, you shook it. Then your gaze fell to the boy standing behind him.

“Jimin.” Jihoon’s voice was suddenly sharp as he summoned his son to come forward.

Looking up at his father in what you could only interpret as fear, he took a few steps forward and stopped in front of you. “Hello, I’m Jimin,” he said quietly, putting his hand forward just like his father did.

“Hi, Jimin,” you said, reaching for his hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

6 years later 17th July 2009

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, bringing in ample light to the summer room. Arranged messily on the table were pots of paint and brushes with a few complete canvases surrounding you as you worked. The canvas in front of you was a mix of vibrant colours, some careful strokes and others wild splashes you had crafted as you concentrated hard, your hand gripping the brush as you attempted to follow your father’s lead.

He had almost completed his piece, after many days working on it. A black sky tinged with deep hues of blue, and a single spear of lightning emerged through dark, swirling clouds, casting a pale, cold light reflecting off of the tempestuous sea of violent waves.

“Oh no,” you frowned, sitting back to get a better look at your work. “I ruined it.”

Your dad glanced over, smiling softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just different now, which is good.”

“But it doesn’t look how I wanted. It’s messy now.”

Your dad paused, getting up from his position in front of his much more professional easel to come and look at your work. Then, he dipped his brush in one of the colours you created and added a soft swirl, then another. You watched quietly as he added more.

“Things don’t always turn out how we want them to, sweetheart. That happens a lot in life. But you can always choose what to do next, even when things get messy.”

“What do you mean?”

Your dad set the paint brush down and sat on the chair next to you. Lines creased his forehead, his expression becoming sombre. It was something you’d been noticing more over the past few years.

“Y/N, there will be times when everything around us feels messy or wrong — like people are not being kind, or things not going how we planned. You can’t always change that. But what you can control is how you act, even when everything feels hard. Being a good person means doing the right thing, even when the world around you isn’t.”

You frowned, thinking hard. “But what if people are mean, or if bad things happen? How do I be good when that’s happening?”

Your dad smiled warmly. “It’s like painting. Sometimes, you’ll have dark colors, or you’ll make a mistake. But you get to decide what comes next. You can add light, bring in something beautiful, even if the first stroke didn’t go how you wanted. You don’t have to paint what’s around you—you can paint what’s in here.” Gently, he tapped your chest over your heart.

Looking down, you began to understand. “So… even if everything’s messy, I can still make something pretty?”

“Exactly. You can always choose to do the right thing, to be kind, to help someone, even if others aren’t. It’s not always easy, but that’s what makes it important. Being a good person isn’t about waiting for things to be perfect, it’s about being good, even when things aren’t.”

You nodded, picking up your paintbrush and adding a swirl of your own. “Like this?”

With a grin, your dad nodded. “That’s perfect. You see? No matter how dark or messy things seem, you can always choose to make it better.”

“I want to do that, dad. I want to make things better, like you do.”

Your dad smiled, pulling you into a hug. “You already do, sweetheart.”

You hugged him back, smiling when you felt him kiss the top of your head. Pulling away, you hopped off the chair. “What about yours? Is it finished?”

“I think so.”

“Lightning… is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel.

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint.

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

You looked at your dad and noticed he looked sad. “Are you not friends anymore?”

He shook his head, a smile returning. “We are. Dad’s just being silly.” He patted your shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s go have dinner. All this painting has made me hungry.”

Dinner passed peacefully that night with your parents and grandparents conversing as they always did, and you spent most of the time poking your mom’s belly to try to get your growing baby brother to respond.

Then, as soon as your dad finished eating, he got a text. Everyone on the dinner table went quiet and for a moment, you were forgotten.

“It’s Han-jae,” your dad said quietly. “He’s asked to see me.”

Your granddad exhaled slowly and you saw how your mothers hand tensed around her fork.

“I told you not to get involved,” she murmured, looking at your dad with worry.

He reached for her hand, caressing it gently. “I had to, love, you know that.”

“Why you?” she implored, almost desperately. “Why couldn’t you ask someone else.”

“I don’t know who to trust right now, Jihoon hasn’t been himself lately.”

“Jihoon is the same as always, he’s a cold man,” your mother answered.

“Sae-yi is right. Jihoon has always been a heartless person.”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t trust him with this."

“Then don’t." Your mom took your fathers hands in both of hers. “But do you have to go?”

Your dads face gave her the answer and she sighed, grip loosening on his hand.

“Honey,” he whispered, closing his hand around hers firmly again and leaning in. “I’ll have my men with me, we’ll be back within an hour, I promise.” Smiling, he kissed her on the lips. “I’ve known Han-jae almost all my life, nothing’s going to happen.”

Your mother’s worried expression didn’t falter. “He’s the one who’s changed. I don’t trust him, not after what he was going to do to Jiyoung.”

“I know,” your dad said, moving his hand in to hold your mom's cheek. “And that’s why I can’t let him know anything’s up, Ji-young isn’t safely out of the country yet so I should go.”

Leaning into his touch, your mom sighed. “Your heart's too big for this world, Sehun.”

Your dad smiled, pressing his forehead against hers and placing his hand on her swollen tummy. “It’s just big enough for you and my beautiful family.” He looked across at you sitting beside your mother and took your hand too, kissing it softly. “Look after your mama while I’m away, and we’ll have some dessert when I get back, okay?”

You nodded, confused yet reassured by your father’s smile. Nodding back, your dad kissed your mother once more before saying goodbye to your grandparents too. Your mom and granddad walked him out while your grandma stayed with you and made you finish your dinner.

The first half hour passed as normal. You stayed sitting with your grandma while your mom and granddad spoke privately in the kitchen. That was nothing new to you, you’d grown up with the adults having many private conversations out of earshot, so nothing felt off… until another fifteen minutes later.

Your mom wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, her phone in her hand. “Neither of them are replying to my texts. He always replies, always.” You could hear the panic in her voice, the slight tremor that shook you deeply inside.

Then your grandma had the maid get you ready for bed, and you couldn’t hear what the grown-ups were whispering anymore. You were used to being sent to bed like this so you did what you always did — you sat by your bedroom window to watch the blacked out cars that usually come and go in the driveway. Except this time there weren’t any cars so instead you clambered on to your bed to read a book while you waited for your dad.

As you grew bored, you remembered your dad promised to be back within the hour… glancing at the clock in your room, you realised he was late. 26 minutes late.

A pit of worry grew in your stomach and you wished to be near your mom, so you got out of bed and walked to the door, your favourite book in your hand as you hoped to read to your little brother like you’d done so many times before.

Clutching it tightly, you walked out of your room towards the staircase, and then you heard it — your mothers heart wrenching scream.

At that moment, you knew your dad wasn’t going to be coming back home.

present day

“One cappuccino please, and a croissant too.”

Without looking up from where you’re still folding the tea towels, you respond to the customer. “To eat in or takeaway?”

“Eat in.”

“Coming right up.” You fold the last one, patting it down before turning to face the customer. “That’ll be 9000 won plea– oh.” You pause, looking at the man behind the counter. “Hello again.”

“Hi, Y/N.” He smiles warmly, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his black trenchcoat.

“Ah, you remember my name.”

“And you don’t remember mine,” he grins, nodding his head when you wince apologetically. “Seojun.”

“Seojun,” you repeat. “I’ll remember that now, I promise.”

He chuckles, placing a 50000 won note on the counter. “Don’t sweat it. And keep the change,” he says, turning around to seat himself at the closest table.

You pick it up, shaking your head. “Again?”

He folds his coat over the empty chair beside him before smoothing down the lapels of his suit jacket. “Yes, and don’t try to give me an extra muffin to make up for it.”

You deposit the bill into the till and put the change in the tip jar. Glancing at him, you see him looking over his shoulder out the window. “Did you at least like it?”

Seojun turns back and smiles. “Nope.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just being honest, I’m not a fan of blueberries,” he shrugs. “If you’re gonna give me anything, I'll take another coffee to go, iced americano this time.”

“Hmph, whatever,” you mumble, getting to work on his cappuccino. “I worked on that muffin recipe for weeks.”

“Try less baking powder maybe?” You shoot him a look when he says this and he puts his hands up defensively. “Or not.”

“Maybe if you weren’t tipping so much, I wouldn’t have to give you a muffin,” you say, steaming the milk for his drink.

“There’s a jar there for a reason,” he points out, nodding to the tip jar on the counter which you’ve kept there for your younger employees on top of the generous wage you pay them.

“Fair.” You finish preparing his cappuccino and plate up the croissant, walking over to his table. “Just don’t diss my muffins.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, doing little to hide the amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes, smiling as you place his order down. “Here.”

“Sit with me,” he says, kicking the seat out from in front of him.

Pausing, you look at the only other occupied table. They seem fine, so you take Seojun’s offer, getting yourself a muffin and slipping into the seat while he looks over his shoulder again.

“Expecting someone?” you ask, breaking off a piece.

“Hm?” He faces forward again, quickly shaking off the serious expression on his face. “Oh, no.” Smiling, he takes a sip of his coffee.

“How’s your girlfriend?” you ask, remembering the last conversation you had with him in which he told you all about his plans to surprise his girlfriend with a handcrafted bracelet made by himself. Apparently the diamonds from Tiffany’s just don’t feel special to him anymore.

You smiled when he said that to you – it reminded you of your dad. It was easy enough to walk into a store and order the most expensive jewels, so he preferred to pour his time and effort into surprising your mom with paintings. He was good at it too, something you’ve grown to be envious of since you can’t say he passed the same talent to you.

Seojun smiles. “She’s good. Loved the bracelet.”

This makes you smile. “I’m glad.”

“How’s your grandma?”

“She’s great,” you nod. The last conversation you had with Seojun, was actually also the first. He walked into the cafe last week and immediately started a conversation with you. At first, you were slightly wary, but you’re always cautious so you went along with it. He’s a nice guy, and truthfully, you were glad for a change from all the college gossip you were used to hearing from your younger employees. They have a lot of drama, some of which bores you.

Speaking with Seojun just seems familiar, like speaking with an old friend.

“How’s her gallery?”

“Busy. She barely even calls me these days.”

Seojun chuckles. “Maybe you should visit her, I’m sure she’d like it.”

At this, you pause, smiling. “I should. It’s been a while since I've seen her.” Your fork pokes aimlessly at the muffin. “I’ve just been a bit busy.”

“With the cafe?”

“Huh?” You look at Seojun, only to catch him looking back towards you just in time. That’s the third time he’s looked over his shoulder.

“I asked if you’re busy with the cafe,” he repeats, quickly looking down to take a bite of his croissant.

“Well, yeah,” you lie, also looking down. It’s a simple answer when the truth is more complicated.

Seojun looks at you, eyes slightly rounded in concern. “It might be a good idea to take a break, no? Get out of Seoul and stay with her for a while.”

This gives you pause, and you stare at him. “I don’t think I'll be leaving Seoul for a while,” you answer, watching him carefully.

But before he can respond, you’re interrupted by your phone ringing in your back pocket. Pulling it out, you see your grandma is calling. Glancing up at Seojun, he’s now looking down at his half empty cup while tensely rubbing his thumb against the side of his tight fist.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, getting up and answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N, sweetheart?”

You frown, immediately hearing something off in her tone. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Seojun looking through his suit pockets for something. You face forward again. “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay? You don’t normally call this early.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the phone as you hear your grandma let out a small sigh. “I’m well,” she says. “I just needed to make sure you’re fine.”

“I am, but you already know that,” you remind her. “I called you this morning.”

“I know.” There’s another soft silence.

“Did something happen?” you ask, an uncertain feeling brewing in your chest. Your grandma has never had any reason to call like this before. Maybe if she knew of the midnight runs you frequently went on, she would, but as it happens, she doesn’t. You’ve made sure of that by having Yoongi promise to keep it from her, and his own father, Min Hyun-tae who is the closest confidante of your grandma.

Eventually, she answers. “I heard there’s been some trouble with the Cheong’s and… ah, never mind. I was just worried.”

You frown – Yoongi should’ve told you this too. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t worry about it, just stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Moni, what is it–”

“Y/N,” she interrupts, her voice suddenly stern. “Whatever it is, it’ll pass over in a few days.”

Holding your tongue, you exhale heavily through your nose. You know your grandma is only this protective of you to keep you safe and she has every reason to worry, which makes it harder that you have to lie to her so often.

“Okay. Promise me you’ll stay safe too.”

Your grandma chuckles. “I’m living a quiet life here in Namwon, dear. Don’t worry about me.”

She’s safe, you remind yourself. Away from the memories and danger here in Seoul. “Okay, I love you,” you say softly.

“I love you too. Bye now.”

Ending the call, you can’t ignore the feeling that remains in your chest, and when you turn around, you’re surprised to see that Seojun has gone. All that’s left on the table is the dishes and his receipt. Drawing closer, you see he’s scribbled something on the back of it: She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her.

In the two conversations you’ve had with Seojun, you haven’t once mentioned any other family member, and he never asked, yet he seems to know that it’s just you and her left…

Suddenly, it occurs to you that maybe Seojun knows who you are.

After your father was killed, your granddad went to great lengths to protect the rest of you, which included keeping your family information strictly secure – even now if you were to go down to a police station, they would have trouble finding much information on you except what you want them to know. Only someone who knows your family could know that it’s just you and her, because your mother’s medical records of her death following her cardiac arrest during early labour are completely unobtainable, as are your granddad’s after his pneumonia.

Looking out of the cafe window, you scan the streets and see no sign of Seojun anywhere.

You need to call Yoongi. That’s the first thing you need to do and after that, you’ll look into Seojun. Your conversation with him and your grandma is still playing on your mind, even now as you rush down the streets to get to your car.

As you brush past people, you accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, looking towards the face of the guy you just bumped into.

He smiles, shaking his head as he pats your arm. “Don’t worry.”

Pursing your lips, you nod and smile before resuming your walk. Another twenty minutes later, you’re pulling up towards the gate of your home. Although it’s a modest sized house (still slightly larger than the average), your grandma insisted on your extra security.

“Good evening, miss,” your guard, Dani, calls out, smiling and waving as she opens the gate from her station.

“Hey, Dani,” you smile, slowing the car down next to her to talk through the window. “Anything today?”

She jumps up onto the ledge, shaking her head. “Nope. A camera around the back picked up some movement just a little while ago but Siho checked it out, was nothing...”

You’re barely paying attention to her as your mind still wanders on Seojun.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you look at her, slightly startled.

Dani smiles. “Long day?”

“Something like that.”

Her expression softens. “Make sure you eat well tonight, hm?”

“I will,” you nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Sure.” She waves you on as you drive further onto your property, parking in the driveway.

Dani and Siho are the guards you employed when your grandma told you to. They both have a past in the military but retired early for whatever reason (they don’t talk about it much and you don’t ask). In truth, you’re very grateful to them – some nights it’s easier to sleep knowing they’re helping to look out for you.

Grabbing your purse from the passenger seat, you get out of your car and walk towards the house.

Everything seems normal as you unlock the front door, entering the wide hallway downstairs – you have no reason to notice the drops of blood by the kitchen door – so you take your shoes off and hang your coat and bag in the cloakroom as you normally would before heading upstairs to your bedroom.

But when you get to the top, you halt, noticing something. Far less obvious than droplets of blood, it’s the sight of your bedroom door left slightly open. You always close your bedroom door. It’s just a habit you’ve always had to close the door when you leave…

Immediately, your senses become more alert, your ears perking up for any noise in the house. It’s odd, you don’t understand how anyone could’ve gotten into the house as long as Dani and Siho have been guarding the house. Unless, thinking back on the day, you know you have good reason to be on alert.

So you tread silently towards your room, kicking it open and—

Nothing. Your room is exactly as you left it this morning. You relax after checking a few possible hiding spots and finding them empty. But still, you know to be more cautious than this, so you take the handgun from the drawer in your nightstand and check all the other rooms.

The metal feels light in your hand, even though you’ve never actually used this particular gun since Hyun-tae gave it to you on the night of the only break-in at the home in Namwon. You were only sixteen, wide-eyed and terrified when he told you to stay with your grandma and not come out until he came back.

The gun was a last resort, of course you knew that the many men guarding the house would intercept whoever was threatening what was left of your family, but even then, it made you feel safer, more sure of yourself. Just as it does now while you walk through your house, alert for any movements.

Your body freezes as you spot the droplets of blood on the floor.

Now that’s not your blood.

Muscle memory takes over as your thumb moves to cock the gun. Your heart beats harder in your chest, every sense on high alert as you silently stand behind the kitchen door.

Holding your breath, you can make out the quiet sounds of heavy, laboured breathing… you inch slowly towards the edge as far as you can to peer in and see no one from where you are.

Exhaling slowly, you count down to three before stepping into the kitchen, gun aimed as you quickly scan the kitchen and then you see the intruder, the aim of your gun following your sight.

Collapsed on the floor against your kitchen wall, a tall man holds his hand against his chest where a deep red stain spoils the white shirt of his suit. He looks up at you, face desperate yet determined.

“Don’t shoot, it’s me.”

Flicking on your kitchen light, you stare at him for a second until you recognise him… “Seojun?” A knot of uncertainty and fear tightens in the pit of your stomach.

Immediately you uncock your gun, rushing over to him. “What happened? Why are you here?” You reach for his wound to apply pressure but his bloodied hand closes around yours, stopping you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Looking up, you meet his gaze and the fear in his expression sends shivers down your spine despite you being confused. “Let me help you,” you say shakily, hands moving to his wound again.

Seojun weakly shakes his head, trying to reach for your arm again. “No, Y/N, you need to leave,” he says, voice firm despite his severe injury.

“You need an ambulance,” you say, ignoring the slight tremble of your hands. “I’ll call an ambu—”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling on your hand again before crying out quickly from the quick movement. “Your guards,” he breathes, “they’ll keep you safe, Jimin will keep you safe, you need to go.”

The sound of him in pain sends panic rushing through you and yet he still seems adamant about what he’s saying. “W-what are you talking about?” your voice is still shaky as you ignore the firm hold of his hand on your wrist to keep pressure on him.

Seojun cries out quietly again but still fumbles for something in his suit jacket pocket. He pulls out a small black flash drive, thrusting it into your chest. “Give this to Jimin, tell him to use it.”

Eyes wide, you take the flash drive from him and slip it into your back jean pocket.

“You can’t let anyone else get it,” he continues, breathing hard as he winces in pain. “No one except him.”

“Okay,” you nod, squeezing his palm gently to reassure him although your mind is still stuck on trying to process the bleeding man in your kitchen to even take in what he’s saying. “I promise, now let me call you an ambulance—”

“There’s no time, I’m sorry, they’re coming,” he says, desperately now. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“Seojun, what—“

The sound of a window being smashed at the front of your house cuts the words off in your throat and Seojun’s hand tightens around your wrist.

“Y/N,” he says, voice firmer and louder than before. “Go.”

You look back at him, heart pounding frantically in your chest as you hear multiple voices coming from somewhere in your house. Seojun starts to stand up, using you to help him.

He’s leaning against the wall, the fatal wound to his chest forgotten as he pulls his gun out and grasps you tightly around the arm. “Now.”

The voices outside get louder, and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to listen to Seojun – you need to go.

Closing your fingers around your own gun again, you nod, pushing down the part of you that wants to stay with Seojun. He’s injured and you know if he doesn’t get help now he’s going to bleed out. However, you also know a fatal wound when you see one, and so does Seojun.

He’s filling the barrel of his gun with bullets as the voices get louder and you know that he’s about to buy you the time you need to get away. Because of that, you do as he asks.

Blinking back tears, you step away from him and towards the back door of the kitchen while cocking your gun again. Before you even get there, the kitchen window is being smashed in and you coil instinctively to avoid the flying shards of glass.

From somewhere behind you, you hear Seojun yell your name but you’re now focused on the man who’s standing ahead of you with a hammer in his hand. Gun raised, you shoot at him but he darts sideways before swinging his arm towards you with the hammer.

He misses you by an inch as you duck and aim your gun at him again. But before you can shoot, he grabs the gun and tugs hard, pulling you into his body. With a loud grunt, he raises the hammer and gets ready to take another swing at you, except the sound of three shots firing pierce the air and his body falls to the floor beside you.

Head turning around wildly, you see Seojun still leaning against the wall with his gun aimed towards you. He just saved your life. Before you can even get the words out to thank him, two more men jump through the kitchen window and the voices from out in the hallway show their faces.

There’s half a dozen of them in total and you have no way out now. Seojun pulls on your hand to keep you close to him and it dawns on you now that this isn’t like anything you’re used to – these men are trained fighters, not just some lousy guards put out to watch a warehouse or defend a shipment of weapons. You’ve trained since a young age too, so you know you could at least fight them one on one, but this is different. These men are dangerous and you have no doubt that they’re the ones who put the fatal bullet into Seojun.

As you look around at them, you find yourself staring at one of them… he looks familiar and it suddenly returns to you that he’s the man who bumped into you outside your cafe–

“Y/N,” Seojun whispers harshly, “help is coming so run as soon as you get the chance, okay?”

You nod subtly, watching as the men part for one of them, undoubtedly their leader, to step closer. He’s a tall man, butch and quite frankly, frightening. His eyes are focused on Seojun and his upper lip curls as he sneers.

“...All of that, for nothing.” His voice is emotionless and laced with wickedness, as he seems to delight in seeing life leaving the once healthy body in front of him.

“Oh shut up, Minjun,” Seojun gets out breathlessly, grimacing in pain as he does.

Minjun laughs hollowly, coming closer still. “I’d love to see Park’s reaction to this, his favourite little pup won’t be crawling back to him tonight.”

Your hand tightens around your pistol but you remain still – even you aren’t stupid enough to think you can shoot this man without receiving multiple bullets in return.

“Just shoot me then,” Seojun mutters, shifting on his feet as he struggles to stay standing.

Minjun scoffs amusedly. “Not just yet. I’ve got questions for you first…” He looks your way and an icy shiver runs down your spine. “Who’s this?”

“I don’t know, this is the first house I found for shelter,” Seojun answers, his voice laced with desperation. “Just take me, she’s innocent.”

Minjun pauses, his eyes lowering to the gun in your hand. “Innocent?”

“Yes, she knows nothing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Minjun says as he walks forward again, closing the distance.

“Minjun,” Seojun says, voice raised. “I’m here, I know everything you want to know, not her–”

As though an invisible fuse has been cut, Minjun loses his temper and throws a heavy punch to Seojun’s jaw, flooring him instantly.

“Seojun,” you gasp, kneeling beside him as a raspy groan escapes him. Fear travels through your body in waves as you see blood beginning to pool out from beside him.

When you meet his gaze, there’s a distant glassiness to his eyes which stand out against his pale, clammy skin.

You’ve been in plenty of fist fights before, you’ve been in real danger and have had to fight your way out of it, but this – being someone you care about – this is something entirely new to you and for the first time in a long time, you’re frightened.

“She knows nothing, hm?” Minjun scoffs. “She clearly knows you.”

Reaching out for Seojun’s hand, you look at the man towering above you, ready to beg. “Please–”

“Y/N!” Siho’s familiar voice fills the air and you freeze.

She appears at the kitchen door, glock raised as she looks around wildly at all the men who are pointing their own right back at her. She clearly wasn’t expecting anything like this and her eyes find you and she looks at you fearfully. “What–”

“Siho, go,” your voice trembles as you call out to her, but it’s too late. Two shots pierce through the air and you watch as your friend drops dead to the floor in front of you.

A hollowness fills your chest. “No,” you whisper, mindlessly releasing Seojun’s hand to move to her but before you can get anywhere, Minjun is kicking you hard in the chest and you get pushed back to the wall. Only now do you realise how hard you’re breathing, the shaky breaths causing your shoulders to rise as you feel your back sink against the wall.

“Something you should know,” he says slowly, inspecting the shaft of his gun as he crouches in front of you almost mockingly after he just shot your friend, before he looks right at you. “I don't like being interrupted. Now, tell me who you are, and don’t lie.”

Minjun’s gaze is terrifying and intense; you can’t bring yourself to look at him so you close your eyes and turn your head away from him.

But he doesn’t take well to that so he draws his hand back and it lands on your face with a sharp sting.

Despite being afraid, you manage to turn your head towards him and goosebumps prickle your skin when he stares at you.

His face is marred with deep lines and red marks, some fresh and some old. Half of one brow looks as though it’s been burnt off and his nose is so deformed it looks as though it has been broken over and over.

“Answer me,” he growls with a piercing stare.

Before you can even answer, you hear the sound of a gun cocking next to you. Seojun has his gun aimed at Minjun but he’s lost too much blood, his mind disorientated as he tries to press the trigger.

“Ha!” Minjun laughs, effortlessly taking the gun free from his hand. “What an idiot.” He shakes his head, looking down at the gun before shrugging and pulling the trigger.

“No!” you cry, body jerking backwards as you become paralysed at the sight of Seojun’s body going limp, his eyes becoming lifeless as his head rolls to the side and he moves no more. A choked sob escapes your throat but you don't even have a second to process it.

“Come here, darling.” Minjun places his hand on your shoulder gently. His other hand rests on your face and you shudder when you feel the callused thumb swipe the tears off your cheeks. “Look at me.” He speaks softly but you know better than to fall for that.

His finger hooks under your chin and he lifts your head up to make you look at him. When your eyes meet his, you freeze.

“Just tell me what you know, sweetheart, and we’ll let you go,” he coaxes, nodding his head with a malicious grin on his face.

“I–I don’t know any-anything. Plea–“

Mjnjun’s fist crashes into your face as your body involuntarily jerks towards the floor.

Pain sears through you, blinding you and all you can do is gasp from shock, feeling blood trickle down your skin.

“I told you not to lie,” Minjun growls, dragging you up by your shoulders. You have no strength left to lift yourself or even try to resist, not that you would.

“Now tell me, what do you know?”

He shakes you violently as he speaks but you don’t respond, still adjusting to the pain which only worsens as the salty tears silently stream down your face. Now your breaths are uneven and with each draw, you feel more suffocated, unable to even think past the image of Seojun’s lifeless body.

Your silence serves as an answer for Minjun. He punches you straight in the ribs and watches emotionless as you keel over in pain. A cry escapes you, though you don’t feel it – your mind feels like a completely separate entity from your body.

So when you hear the sound of feet scuffling and Dani’s voice crying out your name, you can only stay hunched over on the floor.

“Caught her trying to contact someone, boss,” one of the men holding her says gruffly, tossing her phone to Minjun.

Dani looks across the room, her eyes doubling back to where Siho lies dead in a pool of her own blood. You can see the fear and regret in her eyes as she meets your gaze. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.

You don’t have time to do anything before Minjun gives a curt nod in the direction of the door, and then she’s being dragged away from you by four guards needed to restrain her. Seconds later, a single shot sounds.

It leaves you feeling numb, unable to do anything as Minjun drags you to your feet by your collar.

“Two guards and this one…” he kicks Seojun. “You’re clearly someone. What’s your name?” he hisses, his patience clearly having run out long ago – the three dead bodies in your home prove that.

Words don’t leave your mouth and your gaze falls helplessly to Siho’s body. Tears well in your eyes and a harsh sob escapes from your throat.

“Fucking useless,” Minjun muttters, pushing you against the wall. “Search her,” he commands one of his men beside him.

At this point, you don’t even remember the little device in your pocket. You’re simply numb from everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes and when your eyes land on Seojun’s body and his glassy orbs staring emptily at the floor, you just want to scream.

But you don’t. You physically can’t.

Hands pat you down, starting along your arms, slipping inside your shirt to feel under your arms, around your back, groping your chest, all around your abdomen, and up and down your legs. You remain entirely helpless as they do so.

Then they start searching your pockets.

… Your gaze moves to the door, where Dani lies outside.

First your cardigan pockets. Empty.

… Across from you is Siho, the glock she was going to use to save you resting ahead of her.

Then your front jeans pockets. Empty.

… Your head turns, meeting the vacant gaze of Seojun – you feel your stomach flip and a spark of indignation catches in your throat. Subconsciously, your fists curl.

Then your back jeans pockets. A hand pulls out the small black device and he holds it up in front of him, directly between you and Minjun who raises his brow in mock amusement.

“What a pretty little liar you are?” he snickers, stepping closer to take the flash drive in his hands.

You don’t respond, but collapse to the floor as the men let go of you. From fear? Exhaustion? Grief? You don’t know.

Then Minjun comes towards you, pulling a small knife from his back pocket. “You just wasted my time, beautiful…” He grabs you by your throat and pulls you up to your feet.

The feeling of his strong hand pressing into your larynx returns you to your senses as the real threat of being killed looms over you.

Minjun trails the sharp edge of the knife along your cheek, down towards your neck. He leans forward and speaks low. “I don‘t take well to that…” The stench of him fills your nostrils, and the knife presses against your skin. One more glance at Seojun, and suddenly, you snap.

Your knee comes up hard and you grab a hold of Minjun’s wrist, yanking it back with all your strength to twist his body in front of you.

“Sir!”

The voices of his men shouting drown out his low groans as he now stands, disarmed and held in a tight lock in front of you. You're holding him by his arm twisted backwards around his back and your other hand grabs the gun at his waist, a SIG Sauer pistol – it feels secure in your hand and you press the barrel to Minjun’s head. Adrenaline starts to surge through you as your mind races, completely forgetting about Minjun’s other hand hanging free at his side.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot him,” you warn his men, backing up towards the window.

Minjun chuckles a low chuckle. “Will you now?”

“Yes,” you answer through gritted teeth, moving back with him towards the back door.

“Liar.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you hiss, anger swelling in your chest.

Minjun laughs again, coming to a stop despite your grip on him. “You think you’re smart, don’t you? I know you won’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” Fingers digging tightly into his skin, you drag his head back and shoot him straight in the calf. “You don’t know shit about me.”

Minjun falls to his knees, a string of swear words leaving his mouth and his weight pulls you down with him. “Your first mistake was fucking lying to me,” he heaves, fingers grabbing your jaw tightly.

A sharp pain shoots down your wrist. You cry out as Minjun’s blade cuts through your skin, the gun almost dropping from your hand as you grab your bleeding wrist.

He tries to retrieve the gun, struggling to get back to his feet but you step back just in time.

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you right here,” Minjun snarls, facing you as he pushes away the guards who try to help him up. “But once Lee is done with you, I swear I’m going to fucki–“

Bang.

“FUCK!” Minjun staggers, falling backwards with his hand pressed against his shoulder, very close to his chest where blood spreads staining his white shirt crimson.

Another shot sounds and one of Minjun’s men goes down. Then another, and another.

“Park,” Minjun growls, pure rage flashing in his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Despite the two wounds to his shoulder and leg, he gets up and grabs a gun from the closest man. “What the fuck are you waiting for?!” he yells. “Shoot the bastards!”

Within a second, the air is filled with the sounds of shots firing and you drop to the ground, crawling as fast as you can out of the way. Their shots are returned from outside but the majority of your house is surrounded entirely by trees so you can’t see where they’re coming from.

As you go, you spot the flash drive on the floor and Seojun’s face comes to mind. He died for whatever is on there. Reaching out, you grab the device without a second's hesitation. When you get behind the kitchen island, you quickly stuff the drive in your pocket. Pain still shoots down your arm and there’s blood dripping from you, staining the tiles. When you look up, you realise there’s blood everywhere.

“Show me your fucking face, Park!” Minjun rages, shooting all over the place, but he’s also bleeding heavily now, the front of his shirt rapidly being dyed red. His men are dying all around him as they shoot aimlessly out the window and you snatch a gun from the closest one, looking up just in time to see the last man fall. There’s only you and Minjun left.

He curses as the last man goes down, head whipping towards you. Drawing a pocket knife out from his waist, he lunges towards you but you slide backwards on the floor, aiming the gun at his head.

“Don’t,” you warn breathlessly.

His upper lip curls. “Fucking bitch.” He holds his gun up to you. “You’re useless to me.”

There’s no question that he’s about to shoot and you’re ready to do the same, but before that can happen, three men dressed in all black suits come barging into your kitchen and another two through the window.

Minjun shouts in frustration, shooting at you which you narrowly avoid by sliding behind the kitchen island. As you go, you see the tallest of the three men disarm Minjun with ease.

“You’re too late,” Minjun says, voice low as he turns around.

One of them steps forward, a man whose features look incredibly familiar to you.

He aims his gun straight at Minjun’s head. The look on his face is fierce and his gaze is steady. “Where is he?”

Minjun laughs weakly, the energy slowly draining from his body.

The man’s jaw tenses and he kicks Minjun's knee out from beneath him. His movements are sharp, agile — it’s clear to you that he’s done this many times before.

Minjun falls to his knees, his laugh subsiding into a weak raspy breath. He looks up with no fear and no remorse. “I told you, you’re too late.” He looks in the direction of Seojun’s body, and the man’s gaze follows.

His mouth twitches and you can see the grief that fills his face as he stares at the body, but it only takes a few seconds for it to change into unmistakable anger. In a split second, his arm is raised and he shoots Minjun in his thigh.

At first, Minjun cries out, falling to his side as blood pools from him rapidly. Then he laughs remorselessly like a madman. “Which of your boys will be next, Park?”

Familiarity hits you there and then – Park Jimin. As you watch him step towards Minjun, you realise how different this man looks from the young boy you once played tag with in your home.

Jimin doesn’t miss his mark as he throws a hard punch across Minjun’s face, nor does he wait a second before punching him again… and again… and again. Your stomach turns as Minjun still laughs between each throw, almost taunting Jimin to keep going, even when he’s choking on his own blood.

Gathering a fistful of hair, Jimin pulls Minjun’s head back and pulls out his gun. He holds it to his head.

Minjun coughs, blood spattering Jimin’s crisp white shirt. “Do it,” he rasps. “An eye for an eye, eh, Park?” Minjun chuckles, the sound getting lost as he coughs weakly again.

Jimin however, goes incredibly still, gaze piercing into Minjun.

“Your old man knew more than you ever will–” he coughs again, breaths slowing down– “it’s taking you too long to learn, boy. The Lee’s will come for every fucking person you care about, make you watch as they bleed out in front of ya,” he sneers, licking blood off his lips. “Then they’ll kill you like it’s nothing.”

Of the many emotions showing on Jimin’s face, fear isn’t one of them.

Unnervingly calm, Jimin speaks. “I’m not going to kill you.” Tracing the barrel of his gun down Minjun’s cheek, he pushes it under his throat. “No, that would be too easy.”

Jimin holds out his gun and with immediate understanding, one of his men, with dark curls steps forward and takes the gun and place a small Gerber knife in his hand instead.

Grip tightening on on his hair, Jimin lifts the man and turns his head in the direction of Seojun, ignoring the grunts of pain from him. Looking away from Seojun, Jimin keeps Minjun’s head facing that way as he speaks. “You don’t deserve an easy way out.” Slowly, he pushes the knife into Minjun’s shoulder and twists.

Minjun tries to keep down the pain but fails to do so, falling to his knees again.

“See?” Jimin looks down, eyes deadly focused on Minjun. “Just like this.” He twists deeper. “I’m going to cut you apart, and then piece you back together. And I’ll do it over and over.”

“Then what?” Minjun rasps.

Jimin pulls the knife out, throwing it to the floor in front of Minjun. Blood splatters on the tiles and Minjun’s head lowers.

“You’ll see.”

With another wordless gesture, the two tallest men drag Minjun away somewhere and out of sight.

Once they’ve left, the room is silent aside from Jimin’s slow steady breaths. His gaze travels towards where Seojun’s body lies and you watch him carefully as he walks across the room, dropping his gun to the floor to kneel beside Seojun.

Jimin’s expression softens and he gently takes Seojun’s hand into his own, and just like that, you’re reminded of the boy you once knew. He brings the back of Seojun’s palm to his mouth and he places a kiss on his skin. As he lowers his hand to rest over his chest, his round eyes water, but he blinks once and it’s gone.

“Jimin.” One of his men, a tall, slender man with chestnut hair, calls his name. When Jimin looks at him, his gaze immediately lands on you.

You instinctively rise at the same time he does, raising the gun you hold in your hand.

Yes, you knew Jimin once, but many years have passed and you’d be stupid not to be wary.

“Don’t come near me.” You swallow hard, having to press your back against the wall as you feel incredibly weak, but you can’t let this show.

Jimin says nothing as he takes a small step, eyes locking with yours and for a split second you almost lower your gun when you see something familiar in those brown eyes of his.

Then one of his other men, a well built man with long dark curls held back in a bun, draws your attention. “Miss,” he says politely. “We just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help, just get out of my house.” Your voice tightens as you look at Siho’s body. You force your gaze away.

Jimin takes another step, watching you carefully. “You…” he murmurs, hesitating as a soft frown appears on his face before he shakes his head once. “Why did Seojun come here?” He asks, voice softer than when he spoke with Minjun, but the question is enough to anger you and you stare at him in bewilderment.

Pushing off the wall, you walk towards him and a loud click echoes in the room as you release the safety with your thumb.

In return, three guns are cocked and aimed at you.

Jimin, however, doesn’t even blink.

“Put the gun down, miss.” The same man addresses you calmly with his finger hovering over the trigger, glancing between Jimin and you.

Now it’s you who doesn’t falter. “I don’t know why Seojun came here,” you say calmly, “and I don’t know who those men were. I’ve only ever spoken to him a few times and he never told me anything about himself. I know nothing.”

Admittedly, that’s a lie, but until you have more answers yourself, you’re not saying anything.

Jimin is quiet but his gaze is steady. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t,” you answer quietly. “But it’s my word or nothing.”

A beat of silence passes and it feels like an eternity. Your gun remains aimed at Jimin and his men hold theirs up to you, but you know they won’t shoot – there’s something sure in Jimin’s gaze as you both stand there in the middle of the room staring at each other, something that tells you you’re safe.

He doesn’t say anything at all as he looks past the barrel of your gun to hold your gaze, and for a moment you wonder if he recognises you just like you’ve recognised him, but it can’t be.

In the years since your father died, your grandma has done everything to protect you, including changing your surname and moving towns. Jimin, however, had a foot in the limelight for as long as his father was alive which is why you still manage to recognise the grown man before you.

Just as you begin to feel a wave of weakness pass over you again, Jimin looks at the man closest to him, a broad man with jet black hair. With the smallest shake of his head, his men stand down.

You let out a slow breath, lowering your own gun as Jimin turns back to you.

He looks down at your wrist and the smallest wrinkle appears between his brow. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine,” you mutter, hand closing over your throbbing wrist.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

You almost huff impatiently. “It’s not all mine.”

Jimin pauses to look down at your thigh. “You need someone to look at that–now.”

Confused, your eyes follow and your stomach coils when you see a gash on your thigh, the blood darkening the denim of your jeans. You don’t even know when that happened.

Clenching your fists, you look back up. “I said I'll be fine.”

Contrary to your words, when you turn away a little too quickly, everything blurs and spins. Just as everything starts to go dark, you stumble backwards and Jimin is moving towards you.

The last thing you feel is warm hands closing around you, lowering you gently to the ground.

note. thank you so much for reading! please share your thoughts with me and if you have any questions ask awayyy! (especially as it only gets more intense :) the action should take a bit of a break though as we’re introduced to and learn more about the characters 😋 (also writing action is hard 😭)

#park jimin #jimin fanfic #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #pjm #jimin bts #bts jimin #bts x you #jimin imagine #jimin masterlist #jimin series #bts mafia #bts masterlist #jimin x you #jimin x oc #jimin fluff #jimin smut #jimin angst

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callmemonster68 · 1 month ago

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•Enhypen Masterlist•

All Members:

ENHYPEN - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

ENHYPEN - 7 Minutes In Heaven ( slight smut )

ENHYPEN - Silly Hand ( smut )

ENHYPEN - Sex Positions ( smut )

ENHYPEN - Suck-Suck ( smut )

ENHYPEN - Hot Surprise ( smut )

ENHYPEN - BigBoy ( smut )

ENHYPEN - Scratches ( smut )

ENHYPEN - Porn Star ( smut )

ENHYPEN - I Won’t Stop ( smut )

ENHYPEN - Live ( suggestive )

ENHYPEN - Uncomfortable? ( smut )

ENHYPEN - Caught (suggestive)

ENHYPEN - Jealous Jealous ( suggestive )

ENHYPEN - Boobs ( suggestive )

ENHYPEN - Gloss ( fluffy )

Park Sung-hoon:

SUNGHOON - Dark Sacrifice ( romance dark )

SUNGHOON - God of the Moon ( smut )

SUNGHOON - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

SUNGHOON - My Sweet Little Perverted Kitty ( smut )

SUNGHOON - Jealous ( slight smut )

SUNGHOON - Tears of a Pretty Boy (smut)

SUNGHOON - The Mirror of Pleasures ( slight smut )

Lee Heeseung:

HEESEUNG - God of War ( smut )

HEESEUNG - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

HEESEUNG - Human Blood Bag ( smut )

HEESEUNG - Hot BestFriend ( slight smut )

HEESEUNG - Pray for me ( smut )

Yang Jung-won

JUNGWON - The Mark of Sin ( smut )

JUNGWON – God of Time ( smut )

JUNGWON - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

JUNGWON - Imaginary Friend ( suggestive )

JUNGWON - Sweet Corruption ( smut )

Niki - Nishimura Riki

NIKI - Fallen Angel ( smut )

NIKI - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

NIKI - My Naughty Little Bunny ( smut )

NIKI - Just So They Know… ( smut )

NIKI - Until It Burns ( smut / yandere )

Sunoo - Kim Seon-woo

SUNOO - God of Love (smut)

SUNOO - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

SUNOO - My Sweet Little Perverted Fox ( smut )

SUNOO - Doll ( smut )

SUNOO - Forbidden Paths ( slight smut )

SUNOO - The Writer and the Dark Muse ( slight smut )

Jay - Park Jong-seong

JAY - God of Shadows ( smut )

JAY - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

JAY - Savage ( smut )

JAY - Promised Marriage ( smut )

JAY - The Master of Strings ( slight smut )

Jake - Shim Jae-yoon

JAKE - God of Death ( smut )

JAKE - So Wrong and So Right ( smut )

JAKE - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

JAKE - Worthless ( suggestive )

JAKE - Duty and Desire ( suggestive )

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jaegeraether · 2 months ago

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 100)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (76) / Alexia Putellas x Character (52) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (29)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Appreciate you all coming along on this 100 chapter journey with me!

A reminder that I've spent a lot of hours creating an online community for anyone to join in and chat about everything from WOSO to everyday life (you can be as anonymous as you want in there!) Don't be shy! Come on in and my DMs are always open.

Follow the link below for the following:

LUMOS BY JAE - Join our little BRAND NEW online community on Discord! Come along to chat and hang out, make friends, and follow along with live games. (Updated link as the old one had an expiry!)

JaegerAether Tumblr link

JaegerAether A03 link

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JaegerAether X (twitter) link

((5.6k))

YFN POV

“I need it to be perfect.” She said frustrated and a little disheartened. She read through her notes again, skimming along with her finger.

A strong hand took hers and gently lowered it. She willingly fell into the comfort of Lucy’s deep, green eyes. “Little one, it is perfect. You’ve made sure of that.”

“And the book-”

Lucy put her hand on the book to hold it down before she could pick it up and overanalyse every word. She paused to smile at the words on the front before she spoke. “The book too. Both are perfect.”

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t make me call Ridley.”

YFN crossed her arms at the threat. “Go on then.”

Lucy chuckled and shrugged, taking out her phone. She pressed call and put it on loud speaker, staring at YFN as if waiting to stop her. But she was stubborn, after all.

“Bronze. How’s doing?”

“I’m alright, just need your help with something. You busy?”

“I have a Spaniard between my legs, but go ahead.”

The sound of Alexia telling her off in the background was amusing. It sounded as if they were fighting over the phone before their faces popped up. They were clearly in the pool, Alexia lounging between Ridley’s legs and both very topless it seemed.

“We are swimming,” Alexia said in her cute Spanish accent. “Don’t listen to her.”

YFN chuckled. She always loved to see how happy they were. “I’m surprised to see you back already.”

“I missed home.” She said, exchanging a look with Alexia. “And I wasn’t lying but hey, we can Facetime you later on when it gets more sexual if you really want.”

“Riddlesss.” YFN warned to her cheeky grin.

“I’m jooooking. Christ. I’m a one woman type of girl. Voyeur elsewhere Bronze.”

“How the fuck did I get roped into this?!” Lucy defended.

The trio chuckled.

“What can I help you with?”

“YFN won’t stop trying to change the speech. She’s insisting it’s not perfect. I figured you’d have the right thing to say.”

Ridley shrugged nonchalantly. “Perfection is subjective.”

YFN’s mouth dropped open slightly. How had she not thought of that?

“And, before you start big-braining around whose perception of perfection is more important, just remember that you’re emotionally involved and biased having spoken to Mark and written both the book and your speech, so our perception is more pure. We are the audience, after all.” She got closer to the phone. “And baby… believe me when I say it’s perfect.”

She felt her lower lip tremble.

Ridley smiled at the look on her face. “That’s my girl. Now don’t you two have better things to be doing?”

“Speaking of perfect,” Lucy answered. “I do have the perfect day planned. First things first, I need you to put on this blindfold.”

“That is our time to leave.” Alexia said.

“Aw, sure we can't stay and watch?” Ridley asked.

“Goodbye you two.”

“See you tomorrow!” YFN said warmly.

The day was perfect, by any standard. Sex in the morning. A phone call with their friends. A surprise picnic in the park where they kicked around a football and then laid around, napping and reading their books. By the time the sun began to set, they packed their things back into the car and wandered hand in hand down towards the coast.

She’d been so distracted by their conversation and flirting that she hadn’t even realised where they were headed.

“So there’s the event and then the business afterparty, and then we can all catch up for food and drinks after while the footballers have a few days off..” she rambled, not knowing they’d stopped.

She looked up at Lucy who seemed to be smiling down at her, patiently listening and waiting for her to realise where they were. Turning, she saw the beach she’d met Jordan on. The exact same spot. The little alcove between the bushes, staring out over the sun setting.

“Oh, Luce…”

Lucy sat and pulled YFN down in between her legs, cradling her there. Taking in the moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in and out. The sea breeze whipped a few strands of hair out of her messy bun, which Lucy tucked behind her ear. YFN opened her eyes to look at the last rays of daylight as the wind shifted. A storm was coming – she could feel it. She smiled and looked up at the darkening clouds. She loved the feeling of the darkness creeping in, and the storm. She was unsure whether it was the potential violence of it, or the uncertainty, but she still loved it nonetheless. She felt comfortable in that space. Leaning back, she felt the warm comfort of Lucy. How much things had changed..

She looked around the beach and saw nobody. Sparing a thought for Jordan then, and where she was now, made her smile. How good the country had been to her.

They stayed for an extended period, until the sun had fully set and the sky was overcast with dark, angry, yet comforting clouds.

“It’s getting cold, my girl.” Lucy murmured into her ear.

She nodded, having thought the same herself. “It’s time to go.”

They walked up the beach and ascended the stairs as the wind worsened. She turned to look one last time before they headed back towards their car. Halfway back it began raining suddenly. Large, heavy droplets of water soaked them in an instant, though they weren’t too concerned. Laughing, they ran to the closest shelter they could find.

Lucy grabbed her by the waist and backed her into the little alcove, her eyes darkening. Fuck, she looked good when she was wet.

Unable to resist, she reached up to tangle her fingers in her soaked hair and drag her head down to hers. It would never get old, kissing Lucy. She was talented in everything she did, including intimacy. She pressed her body up against her offering her no escape, something YFN obsessed over, and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. They tongues met and she moaned into the taller woman’s mouth. She tightened her grip on her jacket in response to Lucy’s thigh pressing up against her and Lucy moaned in return.

“F…fuck. Little one.” She gasped, pulling away slightly. “Not here, it’s too public.”

“You really want to stop?” She challenged, pressing herself harder against Lucy's thigh, rocking slightly into it as her mouth found the soft flesh under her chin and sucked.

Lucy groaned.

“Fuuuuck. More.”

YFN hummed at the power she had over her, rocking her hips and getting the pleasure she needed from the friction of rubbing against her.

“Arghhh.”

Her hand let go of her jacket and slipped down, taking Lucy’s and guiding it up under her own. Lucy didn’t need any guidance from there, her hand kneading her naked breast, thumb brushing over the peak.

“I need.. I..”

“Mmn, what do you need, Luce?”

“I need you.”

“Then take me home and have me.”

Lucy pulled back and seeing that look in her eyes, she knew just what the rest of their night held. “Mmn.” She looked around to make sure no one was looking, and realised the rain had eased off just slightly. “Let’s get home. I need you.”

Chuckling, the two disentangled and Lucy took a slight step back, waiting for YFN who was looking around with a sentimental expression.

“Luce?”

“Ready?”

“I… do you realise where we are?”

Lucy looked around confused and then it hit her. “Oh… it’s... where we met.” That first evening with Jordan, and the rain. “If only I’d known.”

“Known what, Luce?” She murmured with pure happiness at the significance of where they stood.

Lucy took her hand and raised it, kissing the gold band she was so proud of. “That I’d met my wife.”

JORDAN POV

Jordan was finishing the last of her stretches on the balcony outside their London apartment when Blu came bounding out from the kitchen to involve himself. He’d been running between the two of them, excitedly padding around with his short little legs, and was beginning to get tired.

Jordan felt his tongue lick her cheek and chuckled. She grabbed him and rolled into her back, raising him over her like he was Simba. He loved that. His little legs moved as if swimming and he shook with excitement.

Jordan sat up and cuddled him to her chest, giving him a kiss on the head and looked inside through the glass doors to where Leah was watching them with a smile and a spatula awkwardly in her hand. She wasn’t a cook by any means, though she was trying, and that’s all that mattered to Jordan.

The slightly older woman released him and he bounded back inside to his other mother. She was on cooking duties today, though Jordan was just about to go in and keep her company.

She rolled up her gym mat and stepped inside, putting it back in its place and wandering over to where the delicious smell was coming from.

“Need any help?” She asked.

Leah turned and gave that genuine smile of hers. “Want to keep my company?”

“Of course.”

Without a hesitation, Leah picked the smaller woman up and sat her down on the edge of the countertop. “You can just stay right there, then. I have this under control... I think.”

“It smells amazing.”

Leah stirred the pot and then stood with her back against Jordan’s chest. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her legs and arms around her, kissing her cheek a few times. “Those lessons have been coming in handy, it seems.”

“I still can’t believe you went and did that.”

Leah shrugged and turned to steal one of the cheek kisses with her lips. “It was for us. Of course I did.”

Jordan happily hummed and rested her chin against Leah’s slightly taller shoulder. “What is it?”

“Just this… us. It’s all very domestic.”

“Well I’d like to think so after we had to convert the third bedroom into our closet.”

Jordan chuckled. “Hey, my place isn’t much better. Lucky YFN is living in London full-time with Lucy now – her room has almost more clothes than this one! She barely has room when she stops in for a few nights.”

“God, I just want to live with you already.” Leah grumbled, turning and resting her forehead against her collarbone. Being the only person who Leah let comfort her was not lost on Jordan. “Why can’t we have that?”

“One more season..” Jordan reminded, reassuringly stroking her back. “And then I’ll move to London.”

“Just let me move there, Jord.” Leah almost pleaded. It wasn’t the first time.

“I’d never let you choose me over Arsenal. It’s one year.. what’s one more season?”

Leah groaned, ditching the spatula to wrap her arms around her. “One more season away from my wife.”

A shiver ran down her spine. She loved when she called her ‘wife.’ It was even better than seeing it around social media. Leah and Jordan Williamson-Nobbs. They’d decided to hyphenate rather than choose like their friends.

“I’ve already begun to do some work with YFN.. can you give me one more season?”

Leah pulled back to study her. “Of course. Of course. I don’t mean to pressure you at all, I’m just being needy.”

Jordan draped her hands over her shoulder. “I love it when you’re needy.”

“Yeah?” She whispered, kissing her softly. Just tasting…

“One more season with a Christmas holiday in amongst it... this time with your folks. And as for the neediness, I say we Facetime more and pay your therapist extra.”

“Poor girl.” Leah chuckled.

“Until then, let’s make the most of it...” Jordan mumbled, pulling her close. Leah grabbed at Jordan’s oversized clothes, tugging her to the edge of the bench and sliding her hands under to feel her. Their mouths connected and as they did so, Jordan smelled burning. Looking over Leah’s shoulder, she saw the pot begin to bubble over the edge.

This wasn’t exactly unusual, even when Leah was watching it.

Instead of telling her, she smiled into her mouth and let herself enjoy the taste and feel of her for a few more seconds, knowing their night would probably end like it usually did…. with takeaway.

ALEXIA POV

Alexia dodged left to avoid an incoming Mapi. She used her body to protect the ball from Ona before dodging right and kicking to Caroline on the far side. With the defenders' attention now away from her, she chased forward quickly, pushing her legs to outrun them as she pointed to the spot where she wanted it.

Alexia yelled for the ball. Caroline kicked. The ball came directly to where she’d pointed of course, unimpeded even by Ona sliding through. Alexia’s boot connected exactly where she’d wanted it to, left foot and straight into the top right corner. Cata leapt and missed by barely an inch.

Perfect.

Alexia felt the grin lighting up her face at that glorious sound of the ball hitting the back of the net. The final whistle blew just as it did so and before she could really react properly, her training team swarmed around, all trying to get a piece of her. She usually didn’t let her team celebrate her too hard, but this felt special.

Everything was good.

“Yes, Alexia!” Keira yelled from behind her as she grabbed her.

“LA REINAAAAA!” Patri yelled into her ear far too loudly.

She felt her body being shook from every direction and tried to let herself enjoy it for once.

“That’s it for today!” Pere called to the team. “Well done to Alexia’s team. Go enjoy your event and I’ll see you all on Monday.”

The girls gave their thanks in amongst the celebrations, as the rest of the team came over to congratulate them.

“You want to take my trophies away again, huh?” Aitana joked.

“God, you shot so quick,” Ona smiled, genuinely happy for her friend.

She heard a person whistling in celebration and rolled her eyes. “Okay okay, enough celebrating now.” Alexia said, yet unable to stop her grin.

“Oh, that wasn’t us,” Mapi teased, jerking her head towards the sidelines.

Alexia’s heart jumped as she looked over and spotted Ridley sitting on the fence. She was back, and looking as relaxed as ever with Alexia’s sunglasses on, her legs slightly spread and a proud looking smile on her face as she watched from afar patiently with Chiquito sitting by her side.

Alexia tried to ignore the teasing from her group. Chiquito looked up at Ridley and then back to Alexia in a sort of question.

“Chiquito!” Alexia called.

He didn’t need to be called twice. The little, fluffy grey cat abandoned his spot to trot over to where Alexia and the girls were standing. She bent down to pick him up, saying her hellos before he was kidnapped by the rest of team. He’d become somewhat of a team mascot, having been around them all so often.

Alexia smiled as she watched him share the love and attention of the girls around, though her attention was now elsewhere as her feet took her towards her Australian.

As she reached her, she parted her legs further with her hands, her palms sliding up the bare skin of Ridley’s thighs and wrapping around her back. She tried to withhold the urge to groan at the comfort of it. Of her.

Her warmth. Her smile. Her touch. Alexia’s home. Ridley held her softly, leaning her head against Alexia’s and presumably watching the girls play with Chiquito over her shoulder.

“Congratulations, my girl.” She murmured in Catalan. “Amazing, as always.”

Alexia hummed against her, happy that she’d seen it. She’d never been the type to be too publicly affectionate, though that had shifted slightly with her relationship with Ridley, especially after their headline-making event with Bashir. Now she wanted to be near her wherever she was. It was such a strange, lovely feeling to have her on the sidelines at games, sitting amongst her family, and at training, talking to her teammates.

“You’re back..” she murmured into her, happy that she didn’t have to wait until that night to see her.

“Mmn. I saw an opportunity to come home earlier and I took it.”

That sent a nice shiver up Alexia’s spine for multiple reasons. Not only the fact that she’d called her ‘home’ but that she’d left her military family who she was so close to, just to come home earlier to her.

Alexia squeezed a little harder before pulling back to see her face. Ridley moved her sunglasses to the top of her head and tucked the sweaty strands of Alexia’s now more brunette looking hair behind her ears. She looked at the scar the bullet had left her with, cutting from just above her eyebrow and disappearing into her hairline. It was now a faded pink colour and looking less aggressive every day. She reached up to stroke it with her thumb, forever grateful that it hadn’t been deeper.

Ridley let her play with it, closing her eyes as Alexia’s thumb moved down and across the one on her cheek. She caught her hand as it reached her jaw and turned her head to kiss the pad of her thumb, and then her thumb, palm, wrist.

“Ready to go home?”

Before she could answer, the girls came over. “What time are you picking us up tomorrow?” Keira asked, handing Chiquito back to Alexia.

“Will we be flying in the Barca plane you bought for us?” Patri interjected.

“First of all, the bus will pick you all up from here at 9am. Secondly… Alexia wouldn’t let me buy anything. Barca has a long-term lease on that plane from my company instead.”

She pouted as if she were unhappy, but she’d still managed to work her way around the problem, of course. Alexia’s stomach fluttered at the cocky look in her eyes.

“But no..” Ridley continued and then chuckled. “No, we’ll be in something much faster and less conspicuous. Management don’t exactly want unnecessary trips while Lucy and Mariona’s faces are still on the plane.”

“You’d think they would have planned ahead.”

“It’s not like I didn’t warn them..” she murmured cheekily. “But never mind that, I’m here to take this one off your hands.”

“At least let her shower first!” Ona exclaimed as a few more of the girls came over.

Alexia stayed quiet as usual and turned to Ridley who looked her up and down with a smirk. “I think I’ll shower her myself at home.”

She rolled her eyes, having expected her to say something similar. “Do you mind waiting? It’s been a really hot day and I want to get these sweaty clothes off me as soon as I can.”

Ridley looked her up and down, seeming to enjoy the enjoying the ‘sweaty clothes’ and gave her a calm but hungry look. Like she hadn’t seen her in a week. Which was about accurate. “I’d wait forever for you.”

Alexia tried to hide her smirk and ignore the teasing noises from her teammates as she took a step back. She was eager to get showered and back home with her. As she’d expected, Ridley moved to follow, sliding off the fence and entering her personal space again. She was slightly taller which meant Alexia had to look up to see that smirk of hers.

A week was the longest they’d been apart since before the island. She could barely keep her hands off her now let along the thought of when they finally got home.

The group made their way into the changing rooms for their showers. Alexia forced herself to go slowly, knowing how frustrating it would be for Ridley, and even though she was annoyingly good at hiding it, Alexia was slowly getting to know her little tells of frustration and impatience. The shifting of her weight onto one foot, the clasped or pocketed hands as if to hold them back from reaching, her head tilt to overcompensate and remind herself to slow down.

Alexia checked herself in the steamed mirror one more time and dropped the towel in the basket as she left the showers. She walked into the changing rooms to see an array of her half-naked teammates all in different stages of dressing and talking. Her eyes found her locker and below it was Ridley sitting calmly, her eyes on Chiquito alone as he sat on the table in the middle of the room with multiple people patting him. The small smile on her face showed how proud she was of him.

Alexia’s first step into the room was met with was Ridley’s eyes flicking to her. Her head tilted as she looked her up and down. Regardless of how turned on she was, she knew the one thing they both wanted more than anything. A hug. She guessed her need to touch and show love was that Spanish side of her, but for Ridley it was different. She wasn’t necessarily a touchy person, unless it was with Alexia. It seemed to be growing on her as a comfort, and so it was never a thing that the Spaniard shoved aside or refused.

Alexia walked right up to the Australian, her knees in between her own and leant over her completely as she put her clothes away. She felt Ridley chuckling into her chest as she did so, gently grasping the backs of her thighs as if to hold her there.

“Ready to go home?” Alexia mimicked from earlier, looking down at her.

Ridley held up Alexia’s car key. “I’ll drive.”

“9am sharp!” Ridley called out to the girls as she drove off.

Alexia reached out to play with her hair as Ridley pet Chiquito who was curled up in her lap.

“He missed you..” she murmured.

“I missed you both.”

“Will you need to go back soon?”

“The team will handle the clean up, Lex. There’s no talk of needing me back anytime soon.”

Alexia hummed happily at that until she spotted a gash with dried blood behind Ridley’s ear. She inspected it with her fingertips. Before she could speak, Ridley did.

“I wasn’t on the front line, Lex, I promise. Wombat got a little too carried away with the working out.” She said calmly, making Alexia chuckle at the image. Since the incident with Bashir, she’d promised to not go front line again unless it was absolutely necessary for her team, or others. “Besides, you already know this. I know you and Duce talk behind my back. What a rat.”

“I like her.”

“She’s just trying to stay in your good books. They’re still getting used to knowing a bit of my personal side.”

“A bit?”

She rolled her eyes. “The biggest part of my personal side.”

“I’m very likeable, you know.”

“Jesus, I’m back for thirty minutes and I’m already copping it.”

“Of course. Someone needs to remind you that not everything is about you.”

Ridley’s mouth dropped open slightly which amused Alexia to no end. She loved every time she surprised her. It was rare.

Before she could get her composure, Alexia reached over and closed her mouth for her.

Ridley’s jaw twitched in amusement and she shook her head. “You’re a pain, you are.”

“You wouldn’t like me so much if I were easy.” She shrugged. “And besides, I’m your pain.”

She hummed in agreement. “That you are. And just to be clear, I’m not surprised you two like each other.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all..?”

“Honestly? The opposite.” She pulled up in front of Ridley’s house which they now shared, and turned to her. Alexia fell into those dark eyes of hers gladly and tightened the hold she had on her thigh. “It doesn’t bother you that I talk to your family often?”

Although she’d been hesitant at first, Ridley had eventually slipped into the fold of the family. It was a bit impossible not to with them, especially after they’d bombarded her at Christmas. “The opposite.”

After they’d made up for a week apart, the pair had spent the rest of their day snacking by the pool. It had been incredible to have a longer pool for the rehab and recovery of her knee back to a solid form. Ever since, she’d made it a habit to do pool workouts a few times a week. Ridley usually watched, sitting and reading a book or playing with a guitar as she did so. She’d been interested and invested in her rehabilitation and everything that went into it.

Ridley was also getting used to being in a relationship. Allowing herself to love and be loved. The island had been a start, but Alexia had known that. She’d never complained, though. They’d always communicated their needs and fears, no matter how difficulty, and were growing together.

It meant a lot less independence, and more teamwork. Less decision and more compromise. This included Ridley adjusting to become more physical. Able to touch, instead of look respectfully from afar. This meant pushing aside that military side of her which needed her hands free. Learning to be the one to initiate contact. To get used to sleeping with that warmth and skin to skin contact.

It also meant that as Alexia sat at the shallow end of the pool, Ridley could come up behind her, dipping her legs into the cool water either side of the Spaniard and cradle her arms around her, stroking her arms with her fingertips, her neck with her mouth.

Both of them had been rather hesitant with it – the worry of falling too deep – though they’d both had a realisation on the night that Bashir had died as to just how far they were in it already. There was no safety net now. They were all in, together.

“It’s almost 4pm,” Ridley murmured in Catalan as her lips explored along her cheek.

Alexia didn’t answer, because she was more than happy right there instead. She kept her eyes closed, head tilted back as she enjoyed the feel of Ridley everywhere. She could feel herself getting wet, even in the water, and her nipples hardening almost to the point of pain.

“Alexia,” she said again, this time in a more warning tone. Her movements stopped and she covered her cold nipples with her palms. The warmth was glorious. “Your interview.. and I don’t like how cold you’re getting.”

She opened her eyes and realised that the sun had set so low that they were fully covered in shade.

Alexia finished with her interview after an hour and wandered through their large house, in search of Ridley. Although it was very comparable to the way it was when she’d first moved in, due to their similar tastes, it now held pieces of herself also. Jerseys and trophies and sentimental pieces here and there. It felt more like them together, rather than just one of them.

She checked by the pool, the office, her art studio, the library, their bedroom. She checked her bedside table for the passport she’d need the next day and found it exactly where she’d left it, with Ridley’s note tucked into it. Smiling, she put it back and turned to see Chiquito at the door. He must have been spending time with her, as he’d missed her the past week.

“Take me to her…”

Ever the intelligent cat, he turned and led Alexia to the last place she could be if she was still in the house.

There by herself in the darkened studio, was Ridley. Her headphones were around her neck, her hand resting on a keyboard and eyes closed as she listened to the track back, presumably checking a note or lyric. It sounded perfect to Alexia. Something she hadn’t heard before. If she had to describe it, it would be… obsession, and adoration.

Although it was dark, she could still see the silhouette of her face, the emotions written across it as it slightly changed with each part of the song.

Just before it ended, Ridley opened her eyes as if she knew she was there. Her lips tilted up at the confirmation and watched Alexia as she listened to the end of the song with her. From the look on her face, she didn’t even need to ask what the song was about.

It was hers.

YFN POV

YFN shook with nerves as her Lumos team introduced her to the stage. She looked at the clicker in her left hand and the notes in her other, pausing as she decided to leave the latter behind. She knew what she wanted to say.

She walked onto the stage accepting the applause as it rang through the crowd.

“Really good job up there.” She praised her team as they passed each other. They gave her proud smiles and “good lucks” as she took centre stage and stopped to take a breath.

She pressed the clicker and turned to see the new company logo once again adorning the screen.

“We here at Lumos began with so much drive and passion that we forgot to introduce ourselves. Tonight, we remedy that. Good evening, my name is YFN, and it’s my honour to be the first to introduce you to Lumos – the first women’s sports media titan.” She took another breath to steady her heart. “When we started twelve months ago, we had one goal: to change the narrative, to give women’s sports the recognition, respect and platform it deserves and tonight, I’m proud to say we’ve taken our first bold steps and accomplished what no one has before. Lumos is now the primary media outlet for women’s football, covering all the top leagues across the globe with plans to expand into all women’s sports in the future. This is just the beginning, but what a beginning it has been!”

She paused to hear that warm, encouraging applause filling the room. Her gaze briefly met Lucy’s proud look in the crowd which steadied her, as well as Alexia and Ridley’s. Ridley being proud of her meant more than she realised and she felt so supported, surrounded by the people she loved most.

“Tonight, we want to share our story with you – not just where we’ve been, but where we’re going. You’ll see the heart of Lumos – our culture, aspirations, and our commitment to innovation and inclusion. You’ll see our platforms, culture, charity and philanthropic initiatives. But for now, more than anything, you’ll see the power of collaboration. This moment, and everything leading up to it, would not have been possible without the extraordinary women who live and breathe the game. Female footballers, and their fans from around the world have trusted us with their stories, their triumphs, their challenges. Their voices have shaped what we are unveiling tonight, and their courage continues to inspire everything we do.”

She paused to look at Mark, his cheek twitching as he realised who she was referring to. She softened her tone as she continued at that heart of her message.

“Lumos is more than a media company. It’s a mission. And at the core of that mission is a promise to shine a light on every untold story, to give a platform to the overlooked, and to honour the dreams and passions of those who came before us. At the heart of Lumos stands a charity dedicated to the legacy of a young girl who shared the same passions and dreams as we do. Her legacy is our promise: to stand for hope, inclusion and possibility.”

She let the weight of her words linger as the room fell into a deeper silence. Then, with quiet strength, she began her conclusion.

“And to begin our journey, comes the launch of our book… a prequel of our life so far, if you will. It is a reflection of the journey we’ve all taken together. From the friendships, to the love stories, football, the headline-making incidents, footballers, and to the charity at the heart of us. This book is about believing in the power of possibility, about working for something greater than ourselves. We’re here because we believe women’s sports can inspire and unite the world because women too, deserve the spotlight.”

She pressed the clicker in her hand and saw the screen behind her reflecting on the crowd and it were as if the world slowed as they stood to cheer. She took as much of it in as she could, appreciating the moment and all of the hard work she’d put into making the moment what it was. Her eyes flickered over the people in the crowd from Lumos who had made it possible, over Kate and a still unsuspecting William as he clapped for a company he had no idea his wife had created. She looked over the footballers, Katie, Caitlin, Kyra, footballers from Arsenal, Barcelona, and such. Alexia and Ridley were sat at the front with proud smiles alongside Lucy who was clapping loudest of all. She chuckled lightly at that and tried to hold back her tears.

After she took it all in, she smiled and turned to the giant screen behind her which was illuminated with a simple title: Sunsets and Footballers by YFN Bronze.

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burningembers91 · 1 month ago

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Welcome to my blog!

I currently write for:

Squid Game

Seong Gi-Hun

The Salesman

Park Gyeong-Seok

Kang Dae-Ho

Hwang In-Ho

Hwang Jung-Ho

Choi Su-Bong (Thanos)

Park Min-Su

Gyeong-Su

Cho Hyun-Ju

Nam-Gyu

The Guest

Father Choi Yoon

The Gangster, The Cop, The Devil

Jang Dong-Soo

The Trauma Code: Heroes on Call

Baek Jang-Hyuk

Park Gyeong-Won

Yang Jae-Won

Han Yu-Rim

Bad and Crazy

Ryu Su-Yeol / K

Do In-Beom

Oh Kyeong-Tae

Andrei Kang

Jeong Yun-Ho

Bloodhounds

Kim Gun-Woo

Hong Woo-Jin

Hwang Yang-Jung

Lee Du-Yeong

The Player

Kang Ha-Ri

Do Jin-Woong

Please note that I only take requests in the form of short prompts, like the ones listed below. If you would like to submit a lyric or quote that isn't listed below, please send it in and I'll see what I can do. I do not write fics based on detailed storylines given to me by others. This is because I already have my storylines fleshed out, along with characters, worlds, plot lines etc.

Fic prompts and lyrics

Sabrina Carpenter Lyrics 💅🏻

Fluffy Prompt List✨

Sexy Time Lyric Prompt List 🚫 18+ only!

NSFW Prompt List 🚫 18+ only!

Angsty Lyric Prompts 💔

Smut Prompt List 🚫 18+ only!

Masterlists

Squid Game Masterlists

The Guest Masterlists

The Gangster, The Cop, The Devil Masterlists

The Trauma Code: Heroes on Call Masterlist

Bad and Crazy Masterlists

Bloodhound Masterlists - Awaiting Upload

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hoonieyun · 3 months ago

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now playing... character profiles

pairing: singer/producer lee heeseung x singer reader "y/n" x singer sim jaeyun

genre: love triangle, music industry (but not idols), angst, drama, smau

synopsis: 4 months after your nasty breakup with your ex-boyfriend!heeseung, he releases a new song that's not only about your breakup but he uses the voicemail you sent him at the end of the song. angry and seeking revenge, you decide to collaborate with one of heeseung's favorite artists, jake.

warnings: profanity, drugs and alcohol, toxic relationships, gaslighting, stan twitter bullshit, kissing, suggestive, overall 18+

reader "y/n" (aespa ningning faceclaim) pop/r&b singer at decelis records energy drink obsessed girl kissers groupchat

lee heeseung - stage name: evan r&b singer/producer at decelis records y/n's ex-boyfriend three blind mice groupchat

sim jaeyun - stage name: jake independent r&b singer dog lover and has had a crush on y/n for the longest

park jongseong - stage name: jay songwriter and guitarist at decelis records loves his guitars more than people three blind mice groupchat

manon influencer on tiktok and youtube y/n's bestie girl kissers groupchat

park sunghoon model/influencer certified hot boy and thirst trap king three blind mice groupchat

huh yunjin "jen" or "jennifer" manager for female artists/entertainers y/n's bestie and manager girl kissers groupchat

masterlist - prologue

taglist: @17ericas @wave2hoon @nikiswifiee @kitzzenz @pochakkeu @heartheejake @nyxiebabyyy @l1vw00n @jae-n0 @dreamiestay @milanco @thinkinboutbin @softchannie @who-tf-soddhi @yourssincerely-mimi @m3wkledreamy @aespaqq @isa942572 @riribelle @st4r-g1rlllsblog

(bold can't be tagged)

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

#kiki diaries #now playing...#en-diaries #enhypen #kpop #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enha #fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen smau #enha smau #enhypen fake texts #enha fake texts #lesserafim #katseye

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edenesth · 1 year ago

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My Forever Valentine

Pairing: bf!Jaehyun x gf!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Throughout your years together, Jaehyun had consistently taken charge of organising your Valentine's Day celebrations, even though it was his own birthday. But as your fourth anniversary approached, you decided it was your turn to take the reins. Yet, in your attempt to plan the day, everything seemed to go awry. Or... did it?

A/N: It's Valentine's Day and Jaehyun's birthday, and since he's my NCT bias, ofc I had to write this.

MAIN MASTERLIST

Jung Jaehyun.

Your high school sweetheart.

He was the epitome of popularity in all your school years. Handsome, intelligent, and accomplished in almost every aspect of life, he seemed to effortlessly excel in everything he pursued. If anyone ever doubted god has favourites, they clearly have not seen him. He was the embodiment of perfection, and he was all yours.

But you? Not so much.

Unlike your boyfriend, you weren't a social butterfly, didn't hold the captaincy of any sports team, nor were you a contender for the valedictorian title. You were simply an average university student, striving to ensure you progressed to the next semester without the burden of retaking any courses.

And yet, Jaehyun seemed to see something in you that even you struggled to recognise.

Despite your enduring status as the quiet and shy girl since high school, you somehow managed to capture the attention of the basketball team's heartthrob of a captain. It was on Valentine's Day of your senior year that he confessed his feelings to you, and as a birthday gift to him, you chose to accept his confession.

As time passed, you found yourselves celebrating your fourth year together. Initially, you harboured fears that your seemingly perfect boyfriend would eventually leave you once he came to realise how ordinary you were. However, each passing year proved you wrong as he continued to demonstrate his love and care, meticulously planning unforgettable Valentine's Day celebrations, even when it was his own birthday.

On your first Valentine's Day together, right after you said yes to being his girlfriend, Jaehyun swept you off your feet with a heartfelt surprise. He took you to your favourite café, where you indulged in boba and shared laughter over cosy conversations. From there, he surprised you with a trip to the arcade, where you both embraced your inner children, playing games and capturing adorable photos together, photos you still keep in your wallets to this day.

For your second Valentine's Day, he went above and beyond to make it memorable. He planned a full day at the amusement park, starting with a thrilling morning at the water park, where you splashed and laughed together, enjoying the refreshing waves and thrilling slides. As the sun began to set, you ventured into the theme park, hand in hand, experiencing the exhilarating rides and magical atmosphere. The day concluded with a hearty dinner, where you toasted to your love and the memories you had created throughout the day.

On your third Valentine's Day, Jaehyun surprised you with a romantic mountain retreat, whisking you away from the hustle and bustle of daily life. Surrounded by breathtaking views and serene nature, you spent the day indulging in multiple couple activities, from hiking hand in hand along scenic trails to picnicking by a tranquil lake. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you cosied up together by a crackling fire, cherishing the warmth of each other's company.

As your fourth anniversary and Valentine's Day approached, a newfound sense of confidence and assurance settled within you, bolstered by your boyfriend's unwavering love over the years. Slowly but surely, you found it increasingly difficult to imagine your life without him by your side, and you were determined to make this February 14th one to remember.

With a flutter of anticipation, you recalled approaching him with a gentle smile a couple of weeks ago, "Jae, I'd like to be the one to plan our Valentine's Day this year. Can I?"

Initially taken aback by your proposal, his eyes lit up with warmth and affection as he wholeheartedly agreed, "Of course, my love. We'll do anything you want." He responded with a kiss on your head, his reassurance melting away any lingering doubts.

Filled with excitement and determination, you spared no effort in arranging the perfect evening for him. After much deliberation and meticulous planning, you managed to secure a reservation at an exclusive restaurant facing a famous beach in Seoul. They offered a special Valentine's Day package, promising a lavish fine dining experience, captivating performances, and the opportunity to dance the night away under the stars.

During the dancing session, you had already made plans to express your desire to spend forever by his side. Tradition be damned, considering all he had done for you, you didn't mind taking the initiative to propose.

Getting home from your internship that evening, excitement bubbled within you and Jaehyun as you dressed in your finest attire, ready for a night of enchantment. You slipped into an elegant little black dress while he donned a sharp ensemble consisting of a crisp shirt, tailored pants, and a stylish blazer. The anticipation was palpable as you imagined the unforgettable evening ahead.

With his hand in yours and his other hand confidently guiding the steering wheel, you began your journey to the famous restaurant you had miraculously secured a booking with, "I'm so proud of you, my love," He said, his voice filled with admiration, "It usually takes months to secure a booking here, but you managed it in just weeks."

You couldn't contain your happiness, leaning your head against his shoulder with a grin, "I know, Jae. I still can't believe we're actually going there tonight," You replied excitedly, "Johnny is going to be so jealous! He's been raving about this place forever."

Or maybe he won't be jealous at all.

"We apologise deeply, miss! We were just about to contact you to inform you of the sudden closure of our restaurant!"

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

Your heart sank upon arriving at the restaurant, met with unexpected news. A sudden kitchen malfunction had forced the establishment to close for the evening, leaving both of you frozen in disbelief. The weight of disappointment lingered heavily as you stood side by side at the restaurant's entrance, all dressed up with nowhere to go.

It felt like all your efforts had been in vain.

Feeling a surge of frustration and helplessness, you cast a glance at your boyfriend, uncertain of your next steps. His expression mirrored your own, a blend of disappointment and disbelief evident in his eyes. Silence settled between you for a moment as you both processed the unexpected turn of events.

Unfortunately, leaving was definitely not an option. Situated on the outskirts of Seoul, the restaurant's distance from the city meant that returning now would consume too much time. Besides, the unpredictability of traffic congestion could potentially result in both of you arriving well past midnight if you were to depart at this moment.

Letting out a sigh, you reached out to grasp his hand, "Gosh, I-I'm so sorry, Jae," You murmured, the words tinged with regret, "The one time I took charge of our Valentine's Day plans, this happens."

His immediate frown of disapproval at your self-blame was evident as he gently cupped your face in his hands, "Hey, none of this is your fault," He reassured, his voice soft but firm, "No one could have predicted this. It's alright; we'll find something else to do here."

Ugh, can he be any more perfect?

He pressed a reassuring kiss onto your lips before scanning the surroundings, searching for a solution. Suddenly, a glimmer of hope brightened his expression as he spotted a 24-hour convenience store around the corner and the picturesque beach still stretched out before you.

"Perhaps a romantic evening is still within reach." He suggested, his optimism infectious as he swiftly removed his blazer and draped it around your bare shoulders, ready to make the most of the sudden change of plans.

Stepping into the nearby convenience store, you were both greeted by the inviting glow of fluorescent lights. The weight of earlier disappointment seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort as you watched Jaehyun move gracefully down the aisles, effortlessly selecting your favourite foods, snacks, and drinks. Each item he chose, each thoughtful gesture, further solidified your desire to spend the rest of your life by his side.

With each passing second, the idea of being without him became unimaginable. In his presence, you found a sense of belonging and home that you knew you never wanted to live without.

Lost in the moment, overwhelmed with gratitude for the man you called yours, you couldn't resist the urge to hug him from behind. His smile greeted you as he turned to look at you over his shoulder, "Everything alright?" You nodded against him, replying softly, "Just wanted to be close to you."

The both of you were completely oblivious to the cashier rolling his eyes at the display and glancing away. However, any traces of irritation dissolved as soon as you both politely completed your payment and even extended well wishes for the remainder of his shift. Maybe, just maybe, he found the two of you a tad cute.

Emerging from the store with your arms laden with goodies, you made your way back to the beach, the cool breeze carrying the scent of saltwater and possibility. Settling down on the soft sand, your boyfriend made sure to keep you warm, tightening his blazer snugly around your frame, "Can't have you catching a cold, my love. Just tell me if you're feeling too chilly, hm?" Despite your long history together, his thoughtfulness never failed to make your heart flutter.

As the sky shifted into a tapestry of vibrant hues, you shared a playful exchange about the potential teasing from your friends regarding the unexpected turn of your date as you ate, "Ugh, Donghyuck is never going to let me hear the end of this. I was boasting to him just yesterday," You lamented with a groan, eliciting laughter from Jaehyun, "I'll give him a piece of my mind if he dares."

With the stars twinkling overhead and the gentle lull of the ocean as your backdrop, you couldn't imagine a more perfect setting for your makeshift Valentine's Day celebration.

Finishing the last of your kimbap, you leaned into his embrace, watching the moon rise over the horizon, your heart warmed as you felt him tighten his hold around you before tracing kisses down the side of your face, "I still can't believe we came all this way, dressed up and everything, just to be told the restaurant's closed. I promise next year will be better, Jae."

"It doesn't matter what we do. All I need is you by my side, my love," He whispered, nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck. You felt a rush of emotion welling in your eyes, quickly blinking it away, "Okay, okay, it's time for your birthday cake."

Giving him a quick peck on his cheek, you reached into the bag of treats you had gotten from the convenience store earlier. Pulling out a colourful cupcake adorned with sprinkles, you carefully placed a candle on top and lit it, shielding the flame from the gentle ocean breeze with your hand.

Clearing your throat, you began to sing the familiar birthday song, your voice mingling with the sound of the waves crashing nearby, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Jaehyun..."

His grin widened as he listened to your melody, his eyes shining with affection. When you reached the final verse, you leaned forward, presenting the cupcake before him, "Come on, birthday boy," You teased playfully, "Make a wish."

With a nod, he closed his eyes and pressed his hands together, his expression one of quiet contemplation. After a moment, he whispered his wish into the wind, his words barely audible over the sound of the ocean.

Curious, you leaned in closer, waiting with bated breath to hear his wish. And when he finally spoke, his words filled your heart with warmth and joy, "I wish for you to be my forever Valentine."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, "No fair—I was going to ask you first. You're always a step ahead."

He chuckled softly, "I suppose you'll have to get used to it for the rest of your life. Are you up for that?"

Without hesitation, you leaned in to press your lips against his, "Are you kidding? Of course, I am."

As the moonlight cast a soft glow over the two of you, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small velvet box. Your eyes widened in surprise as he opened it, revealing a dazzling ring nestled inside.

"I've been waiting for the perfect moment to do this," Jaehyun confessed, his voice filled with sincerity, "I wanted to propose to you this year, regardless of who was in charge of our Valentine's Day plans. And considering you hinted at wanting to ask me first, I'm assuming your answer is a resounding yes."

Your heart skipped a beat as you gazed at the ring, the significance of the moment sinking in. Speechless and overcome with emotion, you nodded fervently, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming love and gratitude swelling within you.

Jaehyun slid the ring onto your finger, sealing your bond with a promise of forever. With a soft grin, he stood up from his seat, extending his hand toward you with an overdramatic bow, "Would you care to dance, my beautiful future Mrs. Jung?" He asked, his eyes sparkling with love and excitement.

Giggling softly, you placed your hand in his, feeling a surge of joy at the thought of the future ahead, "I'd love to, Mr. Jung."

As the two of you swayed clumsily along the shore, the diamond ring on your finger catching the moonlight, the rhythmic sound of the waves provided a soothing melody. Your boyfriend, now fiancé, held you close, his gaze locked with yours as he pulled you in, resting his forehead against yours.

"If you still have any doubts," He murmured softly, lips brushing against yours, "I want you to know that this has been my absolute favourite Valentine's Day and birthday celebration so far."

Your heart melted at his words, and you nodded, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you, "I believe you, Jae."

With a dimpled smile, he leaned in, his lips catching yours in a loving kiss that conveyed the depth of your shared love. As you melted into his embrace, you realised that sometimes the most memorable moments are the unplanned ones. Despite the unexpected change of plans, you were content with how the evening had unfolded.

After all, even if you had been displeased with this Valentine's Day, there would be plenty more in the future to make up for it.

He's mine, forever.

Bonus:

Glancing at the time, you both agreed it was time to head home. As you gathered your belongings and approached Jaehyun's car, you were surprised to see the cashier from the convenience store earlier emerging from the shop and walking past you both, seemingly finishing his shift.

"Hey there, need a ride home? It's getting late, and we're happy to drop you off anywhere along our way." Your fiancé offered kindly, motioning towards his car.

The young man, whose name tag was revealed as Jisung, shook his head with a smile, "Thanks, but I'll be alright. I live just around the corner. You two have a safe journey back to the city, though."

You nodded in acknowledgement, watching as he continued on his way before pausing after a few steps, turning back to face you and Jaehyun, "Oh, um... congratulations, by the way. I saw the proposal from inside the store." He mentioned, nodding towards your ring, and both of you blushed.

With a sheepish shrug, he offered a light smile, "Happy Valentine's Day, and I wish you both all the happiness in the world."

"Thank you, Jisung."

As he made his way home, the young man couldn't help but shake his head with a small smile. Alright, perhaps he did find the two of you incredibly adorable. A part of him felt a warmth within, witnessing such genuine love between you both. It left him hoping to find someone just as special for himself someday.

Happy Valentine's Day to you all, my lovelies! Just another self-indulgent piece HAHA this is what happens when you've been single for way too long lmfao I'll pretend this is exactly how my Valentine's Day is going to go :)

Leave a message or reply to lmk if you'd like to be added (or removed, I'd understand) from my master tag list! As always, thank you for reading and I look forward to hearing all your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @cereal-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @sharksandminhos

#edenesth #nct #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #jung jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct jaehyun #non idol au #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #nct fic #jaehyun oneshot #nct oneshot

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burnmarksofficial · 1 year ago

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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐄 ─ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐀 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

❨ series masterlist | request | taglist ❩

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ─

★ birth name ─ jae-eun lee ★ hangul ─ 이재은 ★ nicknames ─ jae, jj, jae-bear, jennington, lilo

★ birthday ─ 5th november 2003 ★ age ─ 20 (int.) 21 (kor.) ★ zodiac ─ scorpio ★ chinese zodiac ─ sheep

★ birth place ─ seoul, south korea ★ home town ─ seoul, south korea ★ current residence ─ seoul, south korea

★ nationality ─ korean ★ ethnicity ─ korean ★ languages ─ english (100%), korean (100%), japanese (100%), french (100%), chinese (97%), spanish (97%), italian (96%), german (96%), thai (54%)

★ gender ─ cisfemale ★ pronouns ─ she/her/hers ★ sexual orientation ─ bisexual ★ romantic orientation ─ biromantic

★ height ─ 170.18 cm (5'7) ★ weight ─ 72kg ★ blood type ─ o negative ★ eye colour ─ black ★ hair colour ─ black

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐑 ─

★ occupation ─ formula one driver

★ team ─ oracle red bull racing ★ position ─ 1st driver ★ race number ─ 13

★ sponsors ─ the hwang corporation ★ helmet ─ bell

★ podiums ─ 65 ★ grand prix entered ─ 67 ★ points ─ 1562 ★ highest race finish ─ 1 (x53) ★ highest position ─ 1 (x3) ★ world championships ─ 3

★ manger ─ jin sehun ★ opertaions manger ─ do-yun park ★ personal assistant ─ yana rintarou ★ trainer ─ rin hiniki ★ press officer ─ moon dan-bi ★ race engeriner ─ claudia lao

★ debut race ─ 2021, bahrain gp ★ debut age ─ 18 ★ first podiums ─ 2021, bahrain gp (1) ★ first points ─ 2021, bahrain gp (25) ★ debut race win ─ 2021, bahrain gp

★ fans names ─ j-nation ★ offical colours ─ black and white

★ instagram ─ jaeeunlee ★ twitter ─ jaeeunlee ★ youtube ─ jaeeunlee ★ tiktok ─ jaeeunlee ★ twitch ─ jaeeunlee ★ facebook ─ jaeeunlee ★ personal website ─ jaeeunlee.com

★ role modles ─ ha-ru lee, ayton senna, michael schumacher, kimi raikkonen, sebastian vettel, lewis hamilton

★ signature ↓

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 ─

★ mbti ─ intj-a

★ strengths ─ organised, creative, well-rounded, calm, realistic, naturally gifted, smart, introvert, quiet, logical, planner, open-minded ★ weaknesses ─ perfectionist, temper, self-critical, serious, detached, guarded, cold

★ family members ↓ min-jin hwang ─ mother ha-ru lee ─ father (deceased) ari lee ─ older sister ye-jun hwang ─ younger brother dea-eun hwang ─ younger sister saja lee ─ younger brother

★ hobbies & skills ─ photography, cinematography, art, fashion, racing (formula one and others), sports, reading, music/playing instruments (specifically guitar), skateboarding, working out, traveling ★ habits and mannerisms ─ headphone tapping, order in which she wears her jewellery, lip biting, picking at her nails, rolling her eyes, resting bitch face, speaking extremely monotone

★ likes ─ family, friends, her dog loki, woking out, music, playing guitar, skateboarding, art, fashion, photography, cinematography, reading ★ dislikes ─ rude people, racists, homophobes, basically any one that doesn't stand for human rights, people that abuse their power, mclaren

★ medical history ─ depression and anxiety ★ phobias ─ atychiphobia (fear of failure)

★ favourites ↓ number ─ 13 colour ─ black animal ─ dogs emoji ─ 😭🫡✨💀🫶🏼🏎📸 season ─ summer

★ favourites food ─ pizza, kimchi, soft tofu stew, samgyeopsal, sushi, instant noodles, tteokbokki, bibimbap, naengmyeon, bulgogi, korean bbq ★ favourites desserts ─ chocolate, mochi, cheesecake, crepe, red velvet cake, basically anything sweet ★ favourites drinks ─ coke, soju, strawberry milkshake, engery drinks, tea, coffee, milk, water, red wine

★ personal playlist ─ here

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nerdlvr · 2 months ago

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were all girls this pretty when they cried? absolutely not.

you stood at your doorway, oversized hoodie engulfing your body, your light grey sleeves wet from wiping at your swollen eyes. you stared up at him, eyes glassy and lips slightly pouted. oh what he would do to lift that hoodie off of you and kiss those-

"are you just gonna stand there like an idiot?"

your tone was harsh, reminding him of who exactly he was dealing with.

"i don't like your tone y/n."

you scoffed at him, swollen eyes tracing over him as he stood in front of you. damn him for being handsome. even in his simple adidas tracksuit you could see the form of his muscles, zipper pressing against his chest as it rose and fell with each breath,

"i didn't invite you over to make me feel worse you know! you're acting like the world's shittiest boyfriend right now!"

he let out a light chuckle hands coming up to straighten the cap on his head,

"really? even shittier than your ex?"

his smirk turned into a frown as he watched you let out a shaky breath, hands coming up to cover your face. he let out a nervous laugh,

"are-are you okay?"

he flinched slightly at your broken sob, his eyes widening at your crying state. you raised your head, eyes red and swollen, tears running down your face,

"did you just come to make things worse?"

"i- i don't know what to do- i-"

he reached for you awkwardly, shuffling closer to you.

"just- ugh don't get my jacket wet- come here."

the hug was uncomfortable, his arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders as you held your head stiffly against his chest.

he rubbed your back lightly, trying to look everywhere except towards the crying figure in his arms,

"s-sorry, i didn't mean anything by that, i'm sure your ex was a great guy-"

your choked sob interrupted his rant, your small hands coming up to grip at his jacket. he watched as your shoulders shook in his grasp, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to hold in your cries.

his chest tightened as you looked up at him, your eyes swollen and red, tears staining your pretty face. he brought his hands up to cup your face, thumbs swiping across your cheeks to dry them.

"you're a really ugly crier."

he bit back a smile as you began to giggle, your hands moving down to grip at the fabric at his waist.

"you suck at this park jisung."

your soft laughs died down, the space in between you two almost nonexistent as you stood chest to chest, his light breath fanning against your face. you stared up at him, your arms wrapped around his waist as you both swayed slightly.

his hands were warm against your cheeks, his fingers softly rubbing against your skin. his touch was gentle, almost domestic as you both stood there smiling at one another. he was the first to speak, a stern look on his face,

"don't cry over other guys, you're mine now, you know that."

and for some reason the words i'm your fake girlfriend seemed to die in your throat as you gave him a short nod.

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅rent-a-girlfriend.com ~ 8. this shit just pmo

previous ~ masterlist ~ next

notes : pmo means piss me off in case anyone doesn't know. ya'll thought i was gonna let my girl y/n fold over jisung THAT easily if yk me if yk me yk that i always make y/n annoying asf LMAO. but jisung doesn't like her yet she's just a pretty girl that he is suddenly obsessed with because she likes her ex and not the hot sexy freak fake bf she has (jisung is full of it)

taglist : @bunniin , @neverbeurs , @fakeuwus , @natokkiz , @222brainrot , @mystverse , @sk8mrk , @ksywoo , @snowyseungs , @nislost , @nosungluv , @jae-n0 , @peterm4rker , @livingdoll-hara , @doejaejung , @tommina , @413ktz , @aerivrs , @cyjzzl , @dolleyedgirl , @nneteyamss , @mrkleelvr , @4chensungs , @nctrawberries , @multifandomania , @catpjimin , @dudekiss3r , @yuujiswrld , @slayhaechan , @catdonut657 , @kodasity , @ohwowzersthatscool , @byeonwooseokabs , @hyucksunset , @rksbae , @hyucktion , @lionzyon , @baobeii55 , @jakesbubu , @axo-l0tl , @sunghoonsgfreal , @strawberrysavi , @hyunjungjae , @kookssecret , @babrieeee , @defzcl , @sikuthealien

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writtenwhalien · 3 months ago

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a lover's redemption | chapter 3

chapter 3. the new normal

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

word count ↠ 13.3k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and shareeeee xxoxoxox and pls share your thoughts w me as we get into it ;) also in case its not clear, jimin's birth year in the fic is 1995, same as real life, and Y/N is 2 years younger than him. I always put the year for any flashbacks so you can work out how old they are :) any confusion, please let me know (i might make a mistake!) thanks angels! <3

17th July 2009

The heavy scent of cigar smoke lingered in the room, curling around the dark oak furniture. Jimin sat quietly beside his father, his small legs barely brushing the floor. Across from them, Lee Han-Jae exhaled a long puff of his cigar, looking tired.

“They confirmed the crash?” Jihoon asked, his tone devoid of warmth.

Jimin did not know what accident his uncle and father had planned but he knew that his father had been on edge all day because of it.

Han-Jae nodded. “Mostly. But he's gone.” He downed what was left of his drink. “Did we take care of the family?”

Jihoon swirls his glass. “We’ll let them go, they have no one.”

“Except Kija and Min-Baek-hyun,” Han-jae counters.

“They mean nothing to us.”

“But they were loyal to Sehun.”

Upon hearing this, Jimin went still, realising what’s happened.

“Their loyalty was not just to Sehun but the entire Han family. They will protect them at all costs and they’ve been in this long enough to know not to retaliate if they want to keep themselves safe.”

Han-Jae said nothing else of the matter but his face did little to mask his disapproval. He took another puff of his cigar before he spoke again. “The other two men survived. Escaped before the flames could finish the job. They’re digging through the wreckage, but the police are sniffing around."It seems dental records are proving... inconvenient.”

Jihoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Inconvenient?” he echoed. “The detectives are a problem?”

Han-Jae waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Funny,” Jihoon said, leaning forward slightly. “You said the same thing about the last case they opened. And now I hear whispers about them building something bigger — trafficking charges. Another detective’s on the case, isn’t he?” His tone sharpened. “You’ve been careless, Han-Jae.”

The room tensed, the air thick with unsaid threats. Han-Jae stiffened, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment. “Watch your tongue, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s lip curled. “You’ve been playing dirty, using our resources to fund your side business."

Han-Jae remained indifferent. "You'll be asking for a share soon. All the pieces are almost complete and this detective is nothing more than a bump in the road. I'll deal with it."

"That's besides the point. I trusted you and you're acting foolishly."

"Foolishly?"

"Is it not?" Jihoon asked, patronising.

Jimin watched as Han-Jae got up wordlessly and walked over to his cabinet. He picked up the decanter and generously poured himself some whiskey.

“I’ve given you more than enough leash,” Jihoon continued, his voice rising. “But if you think I’ll let you drag my name down with yours, think again.”

Han-Jae emptied his glass before he turned, his face a mask of fury. “We’ll talk about this later,” he spat. “We have somewhere to be.”

Jihoon didn’t bother responding. Instead, he turned his attention to Jimin, his gaze cold and commanding. “Get a gun.”

Jimin froze, his blood turning to ice. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Now,” Jihoon snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut. "Then meet me by the car."

Jihoon left the room and Jimin followed, his legs moving before his mind could catch up. He went towards the basement, down the stairs and past the training floor, all the way to the locked room at the back. Some of his father's men watched as he walked, but none said a word. Hands trembling, he pressed his thumb to the scanner and waited for the door to unlock, revealing an entire array of weapons lining the walls.

Jimin didn't think. He picked up the first handgun he saw, checked it was loaded and then walked out with the cold metal feeling alien in his grasp, the weight far heavier than he anticipated.

Without realising it, his feet carried him to the kitchen, where his mother stood slicing vegetables. She turned at the sound of his shaky breathing, her eyes immediately softening when she saw the gun in his hands.

“Jimin,” she whispered, crossing the room in an instant. She crouched down in front of him, pulling him into a gentle hug. The faint scent of lavender filled his nose, momentarily drowning out the suffocating reality around him.

“I can’t,” he mumbled against her shoulder. “I can’t do it.”

His mother’s embrace tightened. “I never wanted this for you, Jimin,” she murmured, her voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry.” She pulled back, brushing his hair from his face with trembling fingers. “But this is your life now. Your father won’t wait. If you don’t go back, he’ll only get angrier.”

Jimin shook his head. “Why do you let him—” His voice broke off and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry." Her face crumpled, but she quickly composed herself and closed his fingers around the gun. “You have to go now, before he comes looking for you.”

Reluctantly, he nodded, his small frame trembling as she kissed his forehead and guided him toward the door.

The container yard smelled of damp concrete and iron, the air thick and stifling. As Jimin stepped out of the car, he immediately spotted Kwan and Duri ahead of them.

Jihoon and Han-Jae walked ahead while Taemin and Jimin followed behind. As they went further into the yard, around a dark corner, Jimin glanced at Taemin, hoping for some kind of answer. Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a reassuring smile of sorts when Jimin glanced his way, but it did little to make him feel better. Jimin figured he knew where they were going since he and his dad spoke often.

Duri pulled the heavy door of one of the containers open as they approached and both fathers stopped short outside of the container. Han-Jae laughed mirthlessly and they both stepped aside for Jimin and Taemin to see.

Two detectives knelt on the floor, their faces bloodied and swollen, their hands tied tightly behind their backs.

Suddenly, the dead weight of the gun in his hand felt heavy again.

Jihoon glanced over his shoulder. “Stay here,” he ordered both boys.

Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a solemn nod but said nothing.

Jihoon stepped into the container, and crouched in front of one of the detectives, his voice low but menacing. “I warned you to stay out of my business. But now, you’re here. What do you have to say for yourself?”

The detective spat at Jihoon’s feet, earning himself a sharp backhand. Jihoon stood, motioning to Jimin. “Come here.”

Jimin hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Now, Jimin."

Taemin looked between them and gently nudged Jimin forward. "Go on," he whispered.

Reluctantly, Jimin got closer, his eyes glued to the ground.

"This man is a threat to us,” Jihoon said, calmly. “End him.”

Jimin’s breath hitched. “I-I can’t—”

Jihoon’s hand lashed out, striking him hard enough to send him stumbling. “You’re weak,” he snarled, stepping close to Jimin and speaking low in his ear. “Your mother’s made you soft.”

Jimin’s head snapped up and he ignored the harsh stinging sensation on his cheek. “Is that why you always send her away?” he asked, teeth gritted. “To keep her away from me?”

Jihoon froze, his face darkening. For a moment, Jimin thought he might strike him again. But instead, Jihoon looked right at Jimin and spoke, his voice icy. “She chooses to leave. Every time she walks out that door, it’s her choice. And it’s time you grew up and realised that.”

Jimin’s grip on the gun tightened, his knuckles white. He didn't look at the man before him but raised his arm, finger closing around the trigger. "You're right," Jimin said, voice low. "It is time I grew up."

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse, the sound ringing in Jimin’s ears long after the man’s body hit the floor.

Jihoon’s voice cut through the haze. “Finally.”

But Jimin didn’t hear him. All he could see was the blood, pooling and spreading across the cold concrete. All he could feel was the weight of his father’s shadow, pressing down on him, suffocating him.

Jihoon glanced at Han-Jae, his lip curling in irritation. “You deal with the other one.”

Han-Jae smiled thinly, his hand settling on Taemin’s shoulder. “Go on, son.”

Taemin hesitated, his youthful face pale under the dim light of the yard's lights. He glanced at Jimin, whose expression was frozen in a mix of horror and detachment, and then back at his father.

Han-Jae’s smile faded. “Do you want to disappoint me?”

The weight of that question hung heavy in the air, and Taemin swallowed hard, but slowly, he stepped forward.

The second detective, bloodied and trembling, began to plead incoherently, his words dissolving into a sob.

Jimin’s stomach churned violently. He couldn’t bear to watch as Taemin raised the gun with far steadier hands than his own, nor could he endure the suffocating tension of the warehouse any longer. His voice was hoarse as he muttered, “I’m going to the car.”

Jihoon turned his head slightly but didn’t object. “Fine. Go.”

The indifference in his father’s voice stung more than any reprimand. Jimin moved toward the exit, his legs unsteady but quickening with each step.

The sound of the gunshot rang out just as he stepped out of the container, the echo chasing him into the night.

The air outside was still warm despite it being well past midnight. Jimin usually loved late summer nights like this but not today. As he walked around the bend, he felt more hot, and the humidity worsened the thick, suffocating tension inside.

He made it only a few steps further before his stomach betrayed him. Rushing over towards a stack of crates, he retched violently. The contents of his dinner surged upwards and all Jimin could hope was that he was far away enough from his dad.

His throat burned, and his body trembled as he leaned a hand against the cold metal for support.

When the heaving subsided, the silence around him felt deafening. His mind was a storm of guilt and revulsion. He could still see the detective’s lifeless eyes in his mind, and worse, as he still held the gun now, he kept imagining his finger was still around the trigger.

“This is your life now,” his mother’s voice echoed in his head, her words a hollow comfort against the growing ache in his chest.

His throat tightened, and for a brief moment, he felt the urge to cry. But the tears didn’t come. They couldn’t — not here, not now. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs until the sharpness of it dulled his emotions. He repeated the motion over and over, steadying himself, quieting the chaos within.

Jimin wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and straightened up. His legs felt heavier than before as he trudged toward the car, but by the time he reached it, his breaths had evened out, and his face was expressionless once more.

Sliding into the back seat, he leaned his head against the window and the chill of the glass grounded him.

As he sat there in silence, the weight of his actions settled like stones in his chest, and he knew this wouldn't be the last time.

Present day

It takes you a while to come to your senses, your fuzzy mind drifting in and out of sleep, telling yourself that you’re dreaming every time your eyes half open to see the surroundings of a room which isn’t yours. Your head sinks back into the feather filled pillow, your breathing is slow and steady and you remain completely still as you wait to wake up in your own bed, in your own home.

But it doesn’t happen.

As you start to focus on the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath, your eyes flutter open fully and everything comes rushing back to you. Seojun lying helplessly on your kitchen floor, Minjun and the men flooding your kitchen, Dani and Siho dying to protect you. And Jimin.

The thought of it all hurts your head, and you push the thoughts down, focusing on something else for now. You have many questions and you’ll make sure to get answers, but right now, one thing you’re sure of, is that you’re safe.

Looking around the room you’re in, you faintly recognise the large wooden doors and particular coving style on the walls. You spent more than a few days running around the halls of this estate, hiding and playing in the rooms belonging to the boy you were once friends with — now the man who saved your life…

It hasn’t escaped you, that had Jimin and his men not walked in when they did, Minjun would’ve killed you after he got whatever information he needed from you.

You’ve never forgotten him, and now it seems like an odd sort of fate that you’ve ended up entangled in some kind of mess with him, thanks to Seojun.

There’s definitely something going on, because there must’ve been a reason why Seojun was in your house, why he spent those late evenings at the cafe just trying to have a conversation with you.

Looking next to you on the nightstand, you see your phone and purse, as well as a few of the other items you had in your pocket and your first thought is to call Yoongi. Whatever’s going on, you need to tell him and he might know something too.

There’s also a small bowl of fresh fruit on the nightstand and a bottle of water — a small reminder that you’re safe here.

As you reach for your phone, you feel a mild throbbing pain in your wrist. You almost forgot that Minjun cut you, but the wound is neatly bandaged now. Pushing the sheets back, you look down at your thigh to see it’s also been bandaged and you’re almost certain you’ll find stitches under there. You’re also wearing clothes that aren’t yours — a loose tee and baggy basketball shorts. You don’t remember anything since falling unconscious but you’re sure one of the housemaids must’ve dressed you.

Reaching for your phone again, you expect to see a call from your grandma since she normally calls you every morning, but your home screen shows no notifications except the many security camera notifications which you’re sure must show the events that took place at your home – you might be able to use it to identify a few of the men who were there, Yoongi certainly would be able to help you with that.

Unlocking your phone, you open up your contacts and scroll through to find Yoongi’s name. Just before you can press call, there’s a knock at the door. Pausing, you look up and a few seconds later, the handle turns slowly.

A slim man enters the room, dressed sharply head to toe in a suit… Your eyes widen, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

“Yoongi.”

He smiles, though somewhat apologetically.”Y/N.” Walking over to your bed, he doesn’t hesitate to pull up the chair that sits in front of the dressing table and bring it beside your bed. While your thoughts race, Yoongi sits quietly and waits.

He’s been working for Jimin, of course he has – his dad was close with yours and Jimin, and after your father’s death, his dad, Min Baek-hyun, stayed close with your grandparents and still resides close to your grandma in Namwon, while Yoongi stayed in Seoul. All these years, you’ve stayed close friends with Yoongi, not knowing he was so close with Jimin too – someone you once considered a best friend.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you ask finally.

“I didn’t want to complicate things,” he murmurs, looking up. As soon as you meet his gaze, you know what he means by that…

You still remember that night, a few months ago, when Yoongi asked you to take out the Cheong men at the warehouse holding the drugs. For the first time, you asked for something in return – for him to help you find who killed your dad. It was the fact that he looked away as soon as you said the words that told you he already knew.

“I need something in return.”

Yoongi lifted his head calmly. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, placing the key down on the table. “Just, promise me you’ll do it first.”

At this, Yoongi’s expression changed to one of concern and he hesitated.

Meeting his gaze, you said his name. “Please.”

“Alright.” Yoongi shifted, keeping his eyes on you. “I promise.”

There was a moment of silence as you mulled the words over in your head. It had been on your mind for a while, something you’d been considering often for the last few months, since you passed what would’ve been your father’s fifty fifth birthday. Not a day had gone by that you didn't miss him, and you’d known since his death that the last place he was called to, wasn’t a timely coincidence. You may have only been 12 at the time of his death, but your father always taught you to be aware of everything, and you’d noticed the tension between him and his friends for months before that night. Even the fact that you hadn’t seen Jimin in years, and the way Jihoon always disregarded your presence – that is before your father limited their visits to your family home. He was trying to protect you from them.

“I want to know who killed my dad.”

The words felt strange on your tongue – though your dad’s murder wasn’t a secret to you, you didn’t often speak about it so forwardly, especially not to Yoongi.

Concern returned to the lines in his face, brows furrowing as he shook his head and reached for your hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

You moved your hand from the table before he could hold it. “You know.”

He paused, eyes flitting down to where your hand was. Releasing a slow sigh, he closed his eyes. “And I think you already know.”

The anger and frustration you’d been holding on to for years began to surface.“It was them, wasn’t it?”

Yoongi looked up. “Y/N–”

“Lee Han-jae? And Park Jihoon?”

Yoongi gave the smallest of nods, and your fist curled in your lap.

“Do you know why?”

“Y/N, please, don’t–”

“You promised, Yoongi.”

Meeting your gaze, Yoongi sighed. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Everything.”

So he did…

Na Doyun was a corrupt prosecutor who worked for the Lee’s, keeping them out of trouble as long as they paid her well enough. It was the perfect deal until some of the DA became suspicious of Doyun’s intentions and motivations, and she panicked, demanding more money, as well as a way for her to launder all the funds she was receiving.

The Lee’s had no choice but to comply since she had enough dirt on them to put them away for life, (as well as a supposed contingency plan that would expose them should they try anything to harm her), and so Han-jae developed a nightclub under his name and added Doyun as a majority shareholder, as well as a few others under his influence. It became one of the most popular nightclubs in all of Seoul and the perfect place for any illicit activity,

“The one that closed down months ago?” you asked, vaguely remembering. You were sure you'd followed more than a few unsuspecting victims of Yoongi’s from there on one of your errands for him..

“Yes. They have a few all over Seoul but none as big as that one. And you remember Taemin?”

“Lee’s son?”

“Yes.”

You barely saw Lee Taemin growing up. Though he was close in age to Jimin and you, his father had sent him to school in the United States. There were a few occasions where you were there together but unlike Jimin, he barely spared you more than a glance.

“Closing the club was intentional on their part. Han-jae wanted Taemin to replace it with something much bigger and better.”

“The Benitoite.”

Yoongi nodded. “A clever move on his part. The nightclub was becoming a hot spot and that was risky for them. After years of illegal trading, predatory lending and more, they had to find a way to get rid of any liabilities who used to frequent the club for their own gain, and with the Benitoite, they got the DA off their backs while attracting a whole new world, as well as another way to make their money clean again.” Looking up, Yoongi carried on. “Once that was done, Doyun had nothing left to hold over them.”

“They killed her?”

Another nod.

Your hand tightened around the fob. You couldn’t say you felt bad for the woman, she was corrupt after all and served men doing worse than herself, but it still didn’t make any of this easier to hear.

Yoongi sighed, his hand moving towards yours. “You okay?”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“When that nightclub before the Benitoite first opened, your dad wasn’t opposed to it so he never said anything. But, Jihoon or Han-jae weren’t just abiding by what Doyun wanted, they both saw an opportunity and wanted to run part of the nightclub as a secret brothel for invited guests only, those who would pay enough.”

Yoongi looked up apprehensively, but he saw your expression and continued.

“They knew anyone who knew of them, or had any kind of business with them, feared them, so they used that. If there was anyone who had done them wrong, or owed them money, they offered them a way out. Hundreds and millions worth of debt in exchange for years of service, and they didn’t care who it was.

“A mother, father, son, daughter, brother or sister. Any relation to the person who owed them was good enough and as you can imagine, none of the actual offenders offered themselves so it was all innocent family members being taken in. They would kidnap them and coerce them into working there doing whatever it was that needed to be done too. The whole thing was set up as a way for them to earn honest money to pay back whatever was owed.”

You looked up, repulsed. These are the men you once regarded as your uncles, seeing them as your dad’s friends you thought of them as family while growing up. It’s true that as you got older, you started to feel a certain way towards Jihoon because of how cold he was, especially with Jimin, but this was still beyond anything you would’ve expected of them.

“So that’s why they killed my dad?”

Yoongi shook his head. “Not exactly.” Pausing, he studied your expression for a few seconds before he leaned over the table to grasp your hand. After a gentle squeeze, he let go. “There was a lot happening around that time, I don’t know the details but the way Han-jae and Jihoon saw it, is that your dad became soft. When he first found out about the nightclub he was angry and threatened both of them.”

Your stomach curled.

“They wanted to appease him so they said they would reconsider.”

“But they didn’t.”

“No. And truthfully I don’t think your dad ever believed them anyway.”

It went quiet, the distant humming of car engines along a nearby busy road carried the sound of your thoughts as they ran endlessly.

Yoongi took another sip of his milk, watching you carefully. “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “I can tell you the rest another time.”

You looked across at home, taking a slow breath. You do feel like you’ve heard enough, but you need to know. “What more is there? They killed him after that, no?”

Traces of a grimace appeared on Yoongi’s face. “Not quite.” He paused, waiting.

Wordlessly, you nodded for him to continue.

“Did you know Han-jae was married twice?”

Nodding, you remembered his step-daughter, Jiyoung. She looked after you occasionally, but like Taemin, she wasn’t always there. “Yeah, his first wife passed away but Jiyoung was from her, right?”

“Not exactly, Jiyoung wasn’t Han-jae’s daughter.”

Now, this was news to you.

“And her mom wasn’t a huge fan of Han-jae, their marriage was arranged after her first husband died, and she had plenty of reasons to dislike the man and he felt the same, except she always threatened to expose him.”

The arranged marriage wasn’t a surprise to you, as it was common amongst many of your father’s affluent friends, including your own parents, but you hadn’t known that Han-jae’s first wife despised him.

“After she died, Jiyoung got older, she looked more like her mother, acted more like her, and Han-jae didn’t like her just as much as she didn’t like him, so… he saw an opportunity to get rid of her.”

Eyes widening, you asked, “The nightclub?”

Yoongi nodded, looking down. “But your dad saved her.”

Despite the warm evening breeze, you feel your skin go cold.

Yoongi continues. “He knew something was going on and he happened to be there the night she was being taken. He killed the men and took her away to a safe place, out of the country.”

And just like that, it all made sense. “So that’s why they killed him.”

Taking your hand again, Yoongi nodded silently. “It was a means to an end for them,” he murmured. “Han-jae and Jihoon had changed. They weren’t who your dad befriended and their morals and ambitions were far from the same.”

Yoongi’s words were said to comfort you, but they only fueled your anger… your dad’s closest friends, the men who he regarded as brothers, were the ones who killed him.

That conversation felt like a lifetime ago, and as you see Yoongi sitting in front of you now, you understand why he chose not to tell you, but you can’t help but feel a tiny bit betrayed.

“Still could’ve told me,” you mumble, looking away from him.

“Would it have made a difference to anything?” he asks, leaning forward with a playful smile.

Realising he’s right, you frown indignantly. “Might’ve stopped this,” you say, knowing it’s a weak point.

Yoongi’s expression darkens. Shaking his head slowly, he meets your gaze. “Nothing could’ve stopped this.”

Seojun is the first person that comes to your mind, and you feel your stomach coil.

Reaching to hold your leg over the covers, Yoongi says your name. “You need to tell me everything you know.”

Nodding, you push the mental image of Seojun out of your mind. “I don’t actually know much,” you start, “Seojun had been coming into the cafe around once a week and would talk to me, just small talk. He must’ve known who I was but I didn’t realise until the last time. He seemed worried about something and kept asking me about grandma, and when she called, he’d left and there was a note on the table.” Looking towards the night stand where your belongings are, you see the note you pocketed then, and the drive is there too. You take them both, handing the note to Yoongi. “This is what it said.”

Yoongi takes a few seconds to read the simple words, She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. Frowning, Yoongi lowers it to the bed. “He must’ve known, but I don’t know how.” Looking up, he asks, “you never told him anything about your grandma?”

“No,” you shake your head. “He just knew.” Thinking of this, you suddenly remember all those conversations you had with Seojun… he had a girlfriend. “Yoongi?” You meet his gaze with worried eyes. “He had a girlfriend.”

Yoongi’s expression softens, lips pursing. “Yeona. She knows. She lives here with us, she moved in with Seojun a year ago.”

Nodding your head slowly, you look away. You don’t bother asking how she’s doing, that would be a pointless question – you could tell how much Seojun loved her and from the stories he told you, you’re certain she loved him just as much, she must be heartbroken. The thought of it reminds you of the night your dad passed away… you’d never seen your mom in so much pain.

As your emotions begin to swirl heavily again, you look up at Yoongi. “Did he not say anything at all about what he’d been doing?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “We knew he was up to something, but Jimin told us to let him be.” Again, Yoongi’s expression looks pained.

“Why?”

“A few weeks back, Jimin had one of their clubs raided by the police on the same night they were receiving a weapons shipment and there’s since been a good few detectives on their case. Taemin’s uncle got some time in prison for it and even though he’s out, they still wanted to send a message to Jimin, a way to get back at him… so they killed Seojun’s mom.”

The words wound the knot in your stomach even tighter. “So Seojun wanted to get back at them?”

Nodding, Yoongi shakes his head. “Jimin warned him not to, he promised they’d work it out together and end things for once, but Seojun was angry. Once we figured out he was up to something, Jimin told us to leave him and once Seojun had a plan, we’d join in on it.” Releasing a shaky breath, Yoongi looks down. “We never got to find out what it was, and each week we’d see him less and less. Everyone here knows how to look after themselves, but now I wish we’d taken more care.”

Seojun was a friend to everyone here, Yoongi included, you realise. You know you ought to comfort him but you don’t think you know how. “I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you murmur.

He gives a small smile. “Finish telling me what happened.”

Sitting back into the cushions again, you recall the events from that night. “I left work as normal, came home and when I went upstairs, something felt off. So I went back down, and then I saw him in my kitchen, he was bleeding, barely conscious on the floor and I ran over to him. I tried to help him but he kept apologising, and then he gave me this.” Looking down, you hand the drive to Yoongi.

Confused, Yoongi turns it over in his hand. “Did he say what’s on it?”

“No,” you shake your head. “And it’s probably protected too since the Lee’s wanted it as well. But he told me to take it and find Jimin.” At this, Yoongi looks up and meets your gaze. “He kept saying he’d keep me safe and that I should leave him and go.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. He needed help, but it was too late. When I was about to get out, Minjun and some of his men came in. Seojun tried to help me but in the end…” you trail off, looking down. “In the end it was Minjun questioning me, asking me who I am. I lied, of course.” You finish telling Yoongi the rest of what happened, up until when Jimin and his men came in.

When you’re done, Yoongi is cursing under his breath. “Minjun was a fucking psychopath.”

“Yeah, he seems like it,.” You remember the way he laughed when Jimin was punching him.

“He has a brother, Kwan, he’s just as crazy, if not worse.”

The thought of it leaves you shuddering. Minjun was ruthless and you can’t imagine how much worse his brother is. You hope you never have to meet him, although luck hasn’t really been on your side recently.

“Hey,” Yoongi says quietly, moving from his seat to the bed. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

He smiles softly. “Your wrist should be better in a few days, but your leg might take two or three weeks to heal well. I got you some crutches in case you wanna use them.”

“Thanks, I probably won’t use them though.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

Smiling at him, you push the sheets back to look at your bound leg. “It’s not deep is it?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “You got lucky. Only an inch or so. Ah, also,” he looks up at you apologetically, “you’ll need to stay here for a while until your house gets fixed.”

“Oh.” You remember how the windows were smashed in as Minjun attacked, and you’re sure there’s more damage to the property that you’re not even aware of.

“Jimin is making all the arrangements,” Yoongi continues, “but he’s trying to keep things quiet so I don’t know exactly when things will be sorted.”

“He doesn’t have to, I can do it myself.”

“He wants to,” Yoongi responds. “He blames himself for what’s happened, so just let him please.” His words appear to carry more meaning, and you can’t imagine how he must feel after seeing Seojun dead. You still remember the look on his face when he saw the body.

“Why?”

“He blames himself for a lot of things,” Yoongi murmurs with a soft sigh. “This hasn’t helped.”

Even though it’s been years since you were close with Jimin, you still find yourself feeling a familiar twinge in your chest – ever since you’ve known him, Jimin has had to suffer so much hurt, you couldn’t even count on your hand the amount of times you saw him looking so defeated and terrified in front of his father. He seemed to prefer the company of Lee Han-jae over his own father, although you don’t know how much better Han-jae was as a father since his son, Taemin, was in America most of the time to study. All you know is how he treated Jiyoung.

Now, curiosity (or care) gets the better of you, and you ask, “What happened between them? Han-jae and Jihoon?”

Yoongi looks up, grimacing. “It started with money. Han-jae got greedy and wanted the Benitoite to be only his, but Jihoon insisted it belong to them both since the nightclub was half his effort, though he never really cared for the extra money, he just needed the front. Han-jae reluctantly agreed but it was clear he wasn’t happy.

“And then Jihoon found out that Han-jae planned on going behind his back and he got angry. Han-jae was drunk one night and started threatening Jihoon, which only made him more angry. But before he could do anything, Taemin stepped in and shot him.”

“Taemin?!” you ask, surprised..

Yoongi nods. “He knew of his dad's plan for the Benitoite and he wasn’t fond of Jihoon, so he did what he had to to protect his dad. But Jimin was there.” His expression darkens. “He watched his best friend shoot his dad, who was bleeding out in front of him. I’m so grateful we were with him that day…” He trails off, exhaling as he looks down.

He doesn’t need to say anymore for you to know what he means – Taemin was going to have Jimin killed too.

Your head lowers too. You don’t allow your thoughts to wonder what would’ve happened if Jimin had been alone, you’re just glad he got out. Though you can’t imagine what he must’ve felt given his relationship with Jihoon.

“Did he get to have a funeral for his dad?”

“Yeah,’ Yoongi answers. “Han-jae had just lost another one of his friends and the blood was on his hands, so he sent the body back to Jimin and tried to make amends, but Jimin wasn’t having it. He was already against everything they were doing and now that his dad had gone and he’d lost Taemin as a friend, he had no reason to keep ties with them.”

Leaning back into the cushions, you mull over everything he’s just said. For years, you stayed away from these families who were such a big part of your life growing up, and now you learn that they’ve fallen apart as well.

After a moment, Yoongi speaks again. “I was surprised when they brought you in.” You look up at him as he continues. “I thought he might’ve recognised you, but he said nothing.”

“Do you think he does?” you ask, remembering the look on his face when he first saw you. “But he’s just not saying it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Might be. If he does remember you though, he’ll say something.”

“Are you going to tell them?” you ask, looking at him.

“Only if you want me to.”

After a few quiet seconds, you shake your head. “At least not yet.”

Yoongi nods and it goes quiet again. You close your eyes, leaning against the headboard as you think back on everything that’s happened, and then it comes to you.

“Dani and Siho,” you say, opening your eyes again as a heavy weight settles on your chest. “Did you get them out?”

Solemnly, Yoongi nods. “I sent them back to their families and have offered to make all the necessary arrangements for anything else they need.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Let me know what they say, I’ll sort it out for them..”

Yoongi nods again, pursing his lips as this time he reaches forward to take your hand and comfort you. “They knew the risks, Y/N, better than anyone else.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it’s different, they were there because of me.”

“Yeah, but they made that choice, they wanted to fight for you,” Yoongi says, shifting on the bed. When you look at him, he winces slightly. “Sorry if this isn’t helping, you know I’m shit at comforting people.”

You smile. “I know.”

“Hey, you’re not any better though,” he says defensively, “you didn’t even hug me properly when my mom passed away.”

“What?” you chuckle. “I tried to, but I know you don’t like hugs.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Not normally, but then I would've liked it.”

“Oh…” Now you feel bad. “Really?”

He nods, only looking up at you when you fail to respond. Seeing your face, he smiles. “It’s okay though, I got lots of hugs from the guys here.”

Scoffing, you absentmindedly pull the covers over your legs again, feeling cold from the aircon. “Yeah, you’re telling me Park Jimin was giving out hugs?” It comes out sarcastically and without much thought.

“Yes, actually,” Yoongi answers simply.

Pausing, you realise what you said and his response. You don’t know why you feel surprised when the Jimin you knew was nothing but caring and considerate towards others, oftentimes more than he was towards himself.

As though he can read your mind, Yoongi smiles. “Surprised?”

“Kind of.”

“You knew him though,” he says, as though that makes it so obvious.

“Knew,” you repeat. “I didn’t expect him to still be the same.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “I wouldn’t say he’s changed, but I wouldn't exactly say he’s the same either…” looking up, he smiles again. “I guess you’ll get to see for yourself now.”

“I guess so,” you say, reaching for an apple from the bowl beside you. Seeing Jimin again has been weird, but you can’t ignore the part of you that is ready to welcome a part of your old life back, someone familiar, someone you liked very much. Like Yoongi said though, you’ll get to see for yourself if he’s anything like you remember him. Although you were both younger then, you don’t think he would’ve changed much from what Yoongi has told you so far.

“D’you want something a bit more filling than that?” Yoongi asks, nodding to the apple you’ve just bitten into. “Dinner is just about to be served so you can come down to eat or I can bring it up for you?”

“Oh, yeah, actually,” you answer, hearing your stomach growl after receiving a tiny morsel of food. “I am quite hungry, so I think I'll come down.”

“Sure,” Yoongi chuckles, “you must be hungry, you’ve been sleeping for almost three days.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Three days?!” When he nods, you immediately reach for your phone. “I need to call Moni, she’s probably wo–”

“I already have,” Yoongi says, interrupting you quietly.

Fingers freezing over her name, you look up at Yoongi. “What?”

“I already called her.”

A frown settles on your face. “What did you say?”

Yoongi has always been aware of your wish to keep everything hidden from your grandma, so he hesitates now, knowing this would be your response when he told you he called her. “Everything, but Y/N, she needed to know.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“I know,” Yoongi sighs. “Sorry.”

For a moment, it goes quiet and you lower your phone to the covers. Yoongi is right, she did need to know about this, and it’s not like she’s a stranger to this kind of stuff. Besides, what happened wasn’t related to any of the stuff you’ve been doing for Yoongi, which is what you always wanted to keep from her, and what’s happening now does seem to involve you, and therefore her.

“Sorry,” you say. “You’re right, I just didn’t…” you sigh, trailing off as you think about how worried she must be. Your grandma is a strong woman and you’re everything to her, just as she has been yours.

“I know,” Yoongi says, understanding what you mean without you saying it; he knows your grandma well enough too.

“What did she say?”

“First, she just wanted to know if you were safe,” Yoongi answers. “After that, she didn’t say much except that she’ll come as soon as she can.”

You nod. Knowing she’s coming brings a smile to your face, you’ve missed her a lot. Before you can respond, your stomach growls again.

“Come on,” Yoongi says smiling, getting up and pushing the covers back, “let’s get you some food.”

“You still remember it?” Yoongi asks, a tone of surprise in his voice.

Taking another step, you shrug. “I wasn’t that little when I was last here, I must’ve been, what, eleven? Twelve?”

“Hm, Yoongi hums. “Still impressive.” He keeps a hand hovering around you should you need him, but you’re doing just fine, walking slowly down the hall you recognise as being the third floor.

The Park Estate isn’t much different from what you remember. The estate sprawled across acres, is a masterfully designed blend of elegance and practicality. The entrance opens to a grand foyer, splitting into two distinct wings. The East Wing houses the biggest office which used to belong to Jihoon, and now you assume it would be Jimin’s. It’s flanked by a suite of offices, all of which are bathed in polished woods and leather tones, belonging to his closest men. The West Wing, larger and more personal, feels more like a home. It rises three floors (taking the space above the East Wing) to accommodate the family’s quarter’s on the top most floor, a lounge and other rooms on the second, and downstairs is a dining room, a sleek kitchen caters to formal gatherings and another lounge.

Yoongi points out his room as you pass it, as well as naming some of the other guys whose names you try to pay attention to as you ignore the mild pain that spreads through your leg.

As you approach the stairwell, you notice another dimly lit corridor leading off the main hallway. You can’t see anything down the corridor as you pass, only a wall with light coming from the left and you assume it continues on.

“Jimin’s room is down there,” he says, answering your unspoken question.

“Ah,” you nod, carrying on. It makes sense for his room to be separate from the rest.

The second floor has a few extra guest bedrooms which are rarely used, and a private lounge which is different to what you remember, with a huge balcony that overlooks the gardens and the furniture has changed from mostly dark colours to a much warmer colour palette.

Downstairs, the split between the East Wing, and the West Wing is much more noticeable. The entrance to the West Wing from the grand foyer is always guarded and behind is a much more private hallway with more guards at the end for extra security, and the only way to go upstairs is from the two staircases within the West Wing. The staircase you’re approaching now takes you downstairs where the kitchen is.

As you approach the stairwell, you freeze, your eyes landing on a painting hung up on the wall at the far end of the hall. Yoongi says your name as you begin to walk towards it, but you don’t respond as an old memory suddenly returns to your mind, from the night your father was murdered.

“Lightning… is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel.

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint.

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky. In the centre, a spear of light struck the violent waves of the sea below. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

The painting is just as vivid as you remember, and seeing it now brings tears to your eyes as you feel a bout of nostalgia.

“My dad painted this,” you say quietly as Yoongi joins you in front of the huge canvas.

He doesn’t say anything, but instead looks up at the painting, admiring it in its entirety as though he’s never seen it before. “It’s beautiful.”

Nodding, you blink a few times to get rid of the stinging sensation in your eyes.. You realise now that Park Jihoon was the old friend your dad mentioned; realising he called him an ‘old friend’, you know your father must’ve known in those months leading up to his death that he couldn’t trust Han-jae and Jihoon.

Just then, Yoongi’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Reading a text, he quickly excuses himself. “Come down if you can, or I’ll ask someone to come up,” he calls out as he’s already walking off towards the stairwell.

“Okay,” you answer absentmindedly, still looking at the painting.

It’s not often you allow yourself to dwell on the past, but it’s also not often that you find yourself face to face with things that remind you so much of the past. There’s a reason your grandma decided to leave Seoul all those years ago and it’s a decision you agreed with. Even when you moved back to Seoul, you knew you couldn’t return to your old home, not when all you had there was fond memories of a life that was so unfamiliar to you now. But now, standing in front of your father’s own hand painted work, a flood of memories return and you find it harder to fight the lump that settles stubbornly in your throat.

You don’t realise you’re standing there for long until you hear someone approaching behind you. Turning around, you recognise the man approaching you as one of the ones who were with Jimin that night at your home. He smiles as he comes to a stop beside you.

“Admiring the art?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, still watching his face – you didn’t realise then but now you see just how handsome he is, you feel like you can’t stop staring.

He chuckles, glancing at the painting. “You know I was talking about the painting, not me?”

Shaking out of your daze, you smile. “Yes, sorry. I just recognised you from the other night.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry we had to meet in such a way,” he nods, still smiling. “I’m Seokjin, but call me Jin.” He extends his hand which you shake.

“Y/N, and it’s okay, not your fault.”

“How’s the wrist?” he asks, pointing to your wrist.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you answer, lifting your arm for him to see. You can still move your fingers fine, just the occasional stretch or twist of your wrist hurts.

“Good. And the leg?”

“It’s mostly fine,” you nod.

He smiles again. “That’s good. Your wrist will heal fast, the leg might take a few weeks but it’s looking good so far. I didn’t expect you to be up so soon though,” he adds, raising a brow as though impressed.

You shrug.

“I take it this isn’t your first time getting hurt like this?” Seokjin says casually.

“What makes you think that?”

“You didn’t flinch that night, when we all aimed our guns at you. And the way you handled your own gun…” he shakes his head, smiling. “It definitely wasn’t your first time, and no normal person would point their gun at a mafioso at that.”

Chuckling, you turn back towards the painting again. “I guess I like getting shot at.”

“Just like everyone else here,” he laughs. “Well, you must be hungry, Yoongi asked me to walk down with you.”

“Sure,” you nod, turning away from the painting. You can return to it later. “So what about you?” you ask Seokjin as you approach the stairwell.

He watches carefully as you descend the first few steps. “What about me?”

“This definitely isn’t your first time stitching someone up,” you remark.

“Ah,” he nods. “Definitely not.”

You have to pause, reaching out for the banister to continue on. “So you’re a doctor?”

He snorts, stepping along beside you. “No, but I should be. I’ve done this kind of stuff enough times.”

Smiling, you know his statement is true enough. Injuries like yours must be a regular occurrence in the Park household. Stepping onto the landing, you take a breather and sit on the bottom step for a moment before you continue on. At the same time, you hear hurried footsteps running towards you and Seokjin.

“Jin hyung!” A bubbly voice sounds from down the corridor. You look towards the source and see two men who you recognise from that night – the man bun guy and the slender brown haired one behind him. They can’t see you sitting on the bottom step but as they get closer, Jin nods in your direction, turning their attention to you.

They both smile warmly when they see you, bowing their heads.

“Oh, miss L/N,” the first one comes forward, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you.” He has an adorable bunny smile and you can’t help but return it with one of your own.

“Nice to meet you Jungkook,” you reply, shaking his hand. “And you can call me Y/N.”

“Y/N, got it,” he nods, taking a step back so his other friend can greet you properly.

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Hoseok, Hobi for short,” he grins, shaking your hand.

“Hey.” You return his handshake, feeling slightly taken aback by how relaxed these guys are compared to their stoic looks from when you first saw them. Jungkook looks like a bunny rabbit in human form, and Hoseok beams like a ray of sunshine.

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asks, motioning towards your leg.

“Um, it’s okay,” you smile. “I can still walk at least.”

He smiles with you, helping you as you start to get up. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

You hum in response, allowing Seokjin to continue walking beside you as Jungkook walks ahead, leading you to the extensive lounge.

Distractedly, you look around the familiar room. The coffee table you’re sitting at is still the same as it was when you used to have extra helpings of dessert with Jimin, secretly given to you by the housemaid who had a soft spot for Jimin. Being here reminds you so much of your father too, and knowing how much of a huge part of his life this family was makes you miss him dearly.

Before any of the guys notice you’re not tuned into the conversation, you return your attention to what they’re saying. It hasn’t escaped you that none of them have said anything about your identity, and you reckon it must be because Jimin hasn’t recognised you – if he did, surely he would’ve told these guys since they were there too. You’re not sure if they know anything at all about you – perhaps you should’ve asked Yoongi about that before you came down.

Whether they know anything or not though, they keep the conversation away from anything that would involve you from sharing too much, and you realise now, how their warm smiles and easy conversation is a stark contrast to the tense memory you have of first meeting them the other day. However, there’s some missing.

“Are there more of you?”

Jin, in the middle of swallowing a big sip of water, nods and hums.

Hoseok answers for him. “There’s Yoongi, who you saw already, and Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin.”

“They were there the other day,” Jungkook says, his tone dimming slightly.

“Namjoon and Taehyung will be joining us,” Jin adds, ignoring the last comment and keeping up his chipper attitude. “We always eat together whenever we can and they’re about somewhere.”

It doesn’t escape you that he didn’t mention Jimin’s name though.

“Taehyung is probably in the wine cellar,” Hoseok says.

“Ah, yes, Taehyung loves to pick out the wine for dinner.”

Jungkook snorts. “He thinks he’s a sommelier.”

You smile. “Well, does he make a good choice?”

“I can never tell,” Jungkook shrugs.

Hoseok jerks a thumb in his direction. “He’s not matured enough.”

“Hey!” Jungkook starts, but is interrupted by Jin, glancing toward the doorway.

“Ah, speak of the devil!”

You look up and see two more men entering. One has dark curls and sharp features, his posture relaxed but his gaze calculating as it sweeps over the room. The other one has dark grey hair and broad shoulders, wearing glasses that give him a sophisticated air. You recognise both of them from the other day.

“Yoongi said you’d come down,” the man with dark curls remarks as he approaches. His tone is calm, and a slight smile plays on his lips. “I’m Taehyung. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Hi, Taehyung,” you reply, shaking his hand. His grip is firm but not overbearing. He’s undeniably striking, and there’s something about his presence that feels both inviting and enigmatic.

The broad man steps closer, adjusting his glasses as he nods at you. “I’m Namjoon. I handle most of the boring work around here.” His smile is disarming, and his voice carries a hint of dry humour. “Finances, logistics, making sure this place doesn’t fall apart.”

“Nice to meet you, Namjoon,” you say, shaking his hand. His words make you curious about just how much he handles behind the scenes.

Namjoon takes a seat in the armchair across from you and sinks into it comfortably. “How are you? I imagine this isn’t how you thought your day would go.”

You smile wryly, keeping your responses guarded. “Not exactly, no.”

Taehyung sits down next to Jungkook and returns his attention to you immediately. “Yeah, you put up quite the fight. Most people would’ve frozen in your position.”

“Not the first time I’ve had to defend myself,” you reply simply, not offering much else.

There’s a beat of silence as they all exchange glances, clearly intrigued but not pressing further. You appreciate the lack of prying.

“So,” Hoseok pipes up with an ever-cheerful tone. “Yoongi mentioned you might like spicy food. We had the chef prepare something special just in case.”

“Spicy works for me,” you say, grateful for the change in subject.

Jungkook claps his hands together. “Great! That makes two of us. The food here is amazing – you’ll love it.”

As the conversation shifts to lighter topics, you glance around the room again. The faces around the table are new, but the setting is steeped in nostalgia. Flashes of your childhood in this house flit through your mind – running down these halls, playing games late into the night, and the quiet presence of your father when he was here.

You force yourself to focus, tuning back into the conversation just as Seokjin asks, “So, Y/N, what’s your impression of the estate so far?”

“It’s... different,” you reply honestly, but keep your tone light. “Bigger than I remember.”

Seokjin tilts his head. “You’ve been here before?”

You curse yourself for slipping up but recover quickly. “Not this one exactly. Just a similar setup.”

Namjoon raises a brow but doesn’t say anything else, and you’re thankful for the reprieve.

The door from the far end of the room opens, and an older woman with an apron tied around her waist steps in, carrying a pitcher of water. Her hair is neatly pinned back, and her face is composed but kind. You immediately recognize her – Ara, one of the housemaids from your childhood.

Your eyes meet for a brief moment, and something flickers in her expression. She knows who you are. You’re certain of it. But to your surprise, she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she places the pitcher on the coffee table and begins pouring water into the glasses.

“Thanks, Ara,” Jungkook says warmly, and she nods with a small smile.

When she reaches you, she hesitates ever so slightly before pouring the water, her gaze lingering on you. You hold her gaze for a beat, searching her face for any sign that she might say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she finishes and steps back, her expression carefully neutral.

“If you need anything, let me know,” Ara says softly, glancing at the rest of the table before leaving the room.

Namjoon watches her leave, then turns back to you with a faint smile. “She’s been here for a long time. Reliable, like everyone else here.”

You nod, trying to mask the unease and nostalgia that her presence has stirred up.

On the opposite side of the room, Yoongi comes in from the corridor you came through. With a smile at you, he then nods at everyone. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat before Jungkook inhales the entire table.”

Jungkook laughs, not bothering to deny the accusation. Everyone rises from their seats, and Yoongi gestures for you to follow them to the adjoining dining room.

"Taeheyung, did you choose a bottle for dinner then?" Hoseok asks.

"Of course. It’s spicy food so I brought up a Riesling."

"Nice one," Yoongi murmurs in approval.

"I want a beer," Jungkook says, with no regards to Taehyung's expression.

"More for us then."

As you walk, Namjoon falls into step beside you. “You’ll find this place can be both a refuge and a maze,” he says softly. “It’s easy to get lost, but it has its charms.”

You glance at him, wondering if there’s a deeper meaning to his words. “I’ll try not to get lost, then.”

He smiles faintly. “If you do, just call out. Someone will find you.”

Returning the smile, you find that any uneasiness you'd been feeling, begins to dissipate. It’s clear these men, while different in personality, share a bond that goes beyond mere loyalty to Jimin. You can see why they’ve been by his side for so long – they feel like a family in their own right.

Once everyone is seated at the table, conversation flows more freely and the atmosphere is surprisingly warm. Jin sits at one end of the table, serving himself a generous helping of the roasted chicken and rice dish.

“Jin-hyung, don’t hog all the drumsticks,” Jungkook whines as he watches Jin’s plate pile up.

“Then grab faster,” Jin quips with a smirk, not slowing his pace.

Taehyung leans back with an amused grin, observing the chaos. “I’m telling you, Jungkook, he does this every time. You should know better by now.”

“Should I?” Jungkook huffs dramatically. “Maybe next time I’ll just take the whole plate first.”

“Do it, and I’ll poison your portion,” Jin deadpans, but with a twinkle in his eye.

Hoseok chuckles as he passes you the salad bowl. “Don’t worry, Y/N. They act like this every meal. You get used to it.”

You smile faintly, watching them banter. It’s strange to see these men, who just days ago were all sharp glares and deadly precision, behaving like siblings teasing each other.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Do you always eat so quietly? Or are you just plotting something?”

You blink at him, caught off guard. His face is serious, but his lips twitch with suppressed amusement.

“Maybe I’m just afraid to get between Jin and his drumsticks,” you reply lightly.

Laughter ripples around the table, and Taehyung raises his glass in salute. “Smart answer.”

Jungkook grins at you between bites of food. “Yeah, but next time, you should at least try to grab a piece before Jin wipes out the whole plate.”

“I heard that,” Jin retorts, mock-offended. “I’m ensuring quality control.”

“You’re ensuring there’s nothing left for the rest of us,” Hoseok counters, sipping his water.

As the banter continues, you allow yourself to relax a little. It’s a stark contrast to what you expected when you first woke up in the Park estate.

“By the way, hyung,” Namjoon says, turning to Jin. “Have you checked the medical inventory reports? They were due yesterday.”

“Oh, are we doing shop talk at the table now?” Jin sighs dramatically. “Can’t a guy just eat in peace?”

“It’s your own fault for procrastinating,” Namjoon replies smoothly, adjusting his glasses.

“Don’t drag me into your world of schedules,” Jin retorts. “I’m a free spirit.”

“You’re just lazy,” Jungkook interjects, earning a flick of a bread roll from Jin.

“Enough guys,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in mock exasperation.

Namjoon’s phone buzzes on the table, followed immediately by Hoseok’s. They both glance at their screens, and their smiles fade slightly. Exchanging a look, they nod in unison before standing up.

“Sorry, something’s come up,” Namjoon says, sliding his phone into his pocket. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Don’t eat all the dessert without us,” Hoseok adds with a wink as they head out.

“Like we’d wait for you,” Jin calls after them before turning his attention back to the table.

“Do they always leave like that?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Pretty much,” Taehyung replies, leaning back in his chair. “They’ve got the busiest jobs out of all of us. It’s a miracle they even sit down for meals sometimes.”

“Or they just like to be mysterious,” Jin adds, rolling his eyes. “Half the time, it’s probably nothing.”

You smile, but you feel the weight behind it all. These men might act carefree, but there’s no denying the underlying layers to their lives.

After a while, another two housemaids quietly enter to clear some of the empty dishes.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks, drawing your attention back to the table. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

You nod, brushing it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Understandable,” Jin says, rising from his seat. “You should rest. Recovering from an injury takes time.”

The others murmur in agreement as they begin to disperse, leaving you with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. The warmth of their camaraderie is undeniable, but beneath it all, you can’t shake the feeling of what’s happened, and what is undoubtedly yet to come.

Only Yoongi remains at the table. He sits across from you and smiles. “It’s bringing back memories, huh?” He asks, seeing right through you.

“Yep.” You look around. “Loads. I don’t know how this might sound, but it feels like I missed it.” You look across at Yoongi, expecting to see a puzzled expression but he just smiles.

“I think it’s normal. You were young when you came here and I don’t think you have many bad memories associated with the place. Only good ones, right?”

He’s right. Back then, coming here usually meant evenings filled with laughter, hiding in closets with Jimin, and Jiyoung’s occasional teasing if she was here. Your dad was still alive, and this house, in a strange way, felt like an extension of home. Now, it’s like walking through a memory you can’t decide if you’re grateful for or aching to forget.

You smile softly at Yoongi and nod, letting the silence stretch as you stand. He doesn’t press you further, only watching as you cross the room to the wide, cushioned window seat at the far end. The large pane of glass offered a view of the front of the house. Settling into the seat, you lean against the frame, your gaze drifting outward.

Outside, the estate is alive with movement. Men are stationed around the house, their presence a constant reminder of the life you’re now steeped in. From the East Wing, you spot four men climbing into a sleek black Escalade. Then your attention shifts to the house’s front steps, where Namjoon and Hoseok emerge, walking with purpose.

Behind them, another figure appears and you recognise him instantly.

Jimin, dressed sharply from head to toe, walks across the front drive. He pauses briefly in front of his Porsche, glancing back toward Hoseok, who says something you couldn’t hear. A moment later, Hoseok and Jin climb into the car, and Jimin gets into the driver’s seat. The engine roars softly to life, and within moments, his Porsche is gliding down the private lane, the Escalade following closely behind.

Your gaze lingers on the lane until the cars disappear into the distance. Though you can’t see the estate’s gate from here, you can picture it clearly in your mind – a familiar marker from years ago.

“Where are they going?” you ask without turning, your voice quiet but curious.

“Something’s wrong with one of the shipments we received from the Takahashis. Akira has been a bit of a pain these past few months. Jimin reckons they’re now involved with the Lees and are trying to keep us distracted.”

You hum in response, saying nothing more, but your eyes stay fixed on the far-off trees that bordered the estate. Centred in front of the west wing, a fountain catches your attention, its centrepiece intricate and elegant. It reminds you of the one in Jimin’s mother’s garden and absently, you wonder if that fountain was still there.

As you shift, a sharp pang shoots through your leg, where the knife wound throbs dully. Your wrist isn’t much better, but the pain in your leg is what makes you wince audibly.

Yoongi notices immediately, his gaze darting toward you. “I think you’re due for your meds again.”

You exhale softly, nodding. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You wanna stay here or go back up?”

You push yourself to stand, biting back a groan as the strain makes your voice tight. “Mm, I know I slept for days, but I’m actually still exhausted.”

Yoongi chuckles, rising to help steady you. “That’s to be expected. Don’t worry.” He gestures toward the far end of the room. “We’ll go up, but this time we’re taking the lift.”

You can’t help but smile faintly at his consideration. “Appreciate that,” you murmur as he slides a steadying arm under yours.

The dim light of the ensuite glows behind you as you step into the bedroom, a towel draped over your head. You had just woken up after another long nap, your internal clock utterly thrown off by the days of rest. It's late now, just past midnight and the night is quiet, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the soft padding of your feet on the carpet.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you absentmindedly rub the towel through your damp hair.

Your gaze drifts to the shelves by the dresser table, now stocked with an array of skin and hair care products. A small smile tugs at your lips as you stand to examine them, fingers lightly trailing over the meticulously arranged items. Appreciatively, you sit and carry out a full skin and hair care routine – after three days without it, you definitely need it. You wonder if it was Ara who must have put them here. You're certain she recognised you at dinner and when you think about it now, you think it would be nice to speak with someone familiar.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of your phone on the bed. Turning, you see the screen light up with an incoming FaceTime call. The name on the screen sends a swell of emotion through you.

“Moni?” you answer, settling back on the bed as your grandmother’s face appeared.

The sight of her brings a pang of guilt and relief all at once. Her tired eyes search your face and you can tell she must have been worrying nonstop. “Y/N,” she says softly, her voice warm. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure her quickly, though your heart aches knowing she must have been so anxious. “Really.”

She gives you a sharp look, the kind only she can manage, and her tone turns brisk. “Good. Stay safe there, you hear me? We're figuring out what's going on and Yoongi will tell you more when he can."

You nod, knowing better than to argue. Her expression softened just a little as she continued. “Tell me about Jimin.”

“He hasn’t said anything.”

“About recognizing you?” she asks, her brow lifting slightly.

You nod. “Nothing.”

She sighs, a mixture of fondness and exasperation crossing her features. “I don’t imagine he would. But I have no doubt he does. You haven’t changed much. He, however... he’s different.”

Her words hang in the air, and you find yourself looking up, your thoughts turning to Jimin.

“Life hasn’t been kind to him,” she continues, her voice tinged with melancholy. “When I last saw him, I didn’t see the same little boy I knew.”

A bittersweet smile crosses your lips. “Life hasn’t been kind to any of us.”

Your grandmother purses her lips, acknowledging the truth of your words. “Do you remember his father?”

“Of course I do,” you say without hesitation. “It’s hard to forget a man as cold as him.”

“And Mr. Lee?” she asks, her tone cautious.

You nod, already anticipating where this was headed. “I know, Moni,” you say quietly, cutting her off.

She looks up at you, her expression briefly surprised, but it fades just as quickly. "Of course, I should have expected you would piece it together."

“I know it was them,” you say, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “They did it. They killed Dad.”

She lets out a slow breath, her gaze steady on yours. “They were his best friends,” she says softly. “And then, all of a sudden…” She trails off.

You nod. You can only imagine that the sting of betrayal is still fresh even after all these years. Your grandmother's gaze remains on you, sharp and searching. “You’re there now, though… so, do you trust Jimin?”

You pause, memories of the night at your house flashing through your mind -- seeing Jimin in your kitchen with your gun aimed at him and he didn't retaliate in the slightest.

“I didn’t, at first,” you admit. “But I think I do. Besides, I trust Yoongi, and Yoongi trusts him."

She exhales slowly, relief evident on her face and a small smilw touches her lips. “You’re safe there, Y/N.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting her gaze. “You trust Jimin?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation. “I trust him with you, and you’re my everything.”

The words wrap around your heart, and you wish you could reach through the screen to hug her. Instead, you nod and smile.

“You need to rest,” she instructs, her tone turning firm again. “I’ll call you later. Baek-hyun and I might come to see you. I think he wanted to see Yoongi too.”

Your lips quirk up at the thought. “That would be nice.”

"Good," she nods, and you eventually exchange goodbyes.

As the screen goes dark, you set the phone down, feeling a renewed sense of comfort. The thought of her visiting makes you smile softly as you sit in the quiet of the room.

Still restless though, you wander to the window, gazing out at the sprawling grounds bathed in the moonlight. You spot three men stationed at the back of the house, conversing together as they keep watch. The gardens stretch endlessly, just as you remembered. You can’t see the part of the grounds where Jimin’s mother’s garden would have been as it's hidden beyond the trees, but it would be nice to visit it tomorrow when the light returned.

As you shift, you feel your leg still aches, but it's different this time, more like the dull stiffness of inactivity than pain. Restless energy courses through you, and you decide a walk would do you good. The house is big enough and you need to keep your legs moving.

Stepping out of your room, you close the door quietly behind yourself and hear the faint hum of distant voices and sounds that tells you that not everyone is asleep yet.

As you move through the corridors, memories of Jimin filtered into your mind -- moments you hadn’t thought of in years now rising to the surface with startling clarity and they give you a strange sense of familiarity.

Eventually, your wandering brings you to your dad's painting again. You stop in front of it, the vivid strokes of lightning and sea send a wave of nostalgia over you, gratitude mingling with sadness. You remember you have a few of your father's paintings hanging up at home too and you make a mental note to ensure they're safely retrieved.

“Can’t you sleep, little bear?”

The voice, familiar and gentle, pulls you from your reverie. You turn to see Jimin standing a few feet away.

Dressed casually now, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up, he looks markedly different from the composed figure you saw earlier.

There’s a softness to him now, something that reminds you of the boy you once knew. His smile, small and tentative, feels as though it might disappear if the silence breaks too loudly.

You smile back, and the corners of his lips lift a little more.

Realising what he just said, his words stop you short – it’s the name of the book you gave to him the first time you met him, so many years ago.

Jimin steps closer, the lamp’s dim light casting soft shadows on his features.

As he nears, the subtle scent of his cologne reaches you – a delicate blend of cedarwood and something faintly sweet, familiar yet grounding. It lingers in the air between you, quietly drawing your attention to his presence.

Despite the weariness evident in his eyes, there’s a steadiness about him, a calmness that feels both reassuring and disarming.

“Y/N,” he says, your name leaving his lips quietly, as though testing how it feels after all these years. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognise you?”

“I wasn’t counting on it,” you admit, your voice soft. “I’m surprised you remember the book.”

Jimin’s smile grows, faint but genuine. “How could I not? I never got to thank you for it properly.”

“Thank me?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

He nods, shifting as if the memory is a tender one. “It was a comfort to me for a long time. I wasn’t allowed picture books of my own, so… thank you.”

You remember then how he once told you about his father’s strict rules. A cold man, his father likely saw no value in picture books – if they didn’t teach something useful, they weren’t worth having.

“You’re welcome,” you say softly.

Jimin’s gaze lingers on your face, and you feel a warmth creeping into your cheeks. Turning back to the painting, you focus on the familiar strokes of your father’s work.

“He was talented,” Jimin says quietly, standing beside you.

You smile faintly. “He was.”

After a moment, he adds, “I can have it moved to your room, if you like.”

You shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. This is where it belongs.”

Jimin laughs softly, the sound low and soothing. “It’s actually covering up a stain we couldn’t remove. You might remember it since it was you who put it there.”

“Me?” you ask, eyebrows rising in surprise as you look at him.

He nods, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yep. One of the nights our fathers were away, and you had to stay over. Jiyoung was babysitting us, and we were painting. When it was time for bed, you didn’t want to sleep, so you ran away from her – with all the paints.”

As he speaks, the memory surfaces, vivid and sheepishly embarrassing. “Oh gosh, I remember. I tripped, and the paint went everywhere.”

Jimin smiles wider now, clearly suppressing a laugh. “We tried to paint over it a few times, but the colours were too bright. Eventually, my dad decided to put this up.”

You shake your head, laughing softly, though you still feel a twinge of embarrassment. “I can’t believe that’s still here.”

Jimin’s smile lingers, and the space between you feels quieter, weighted by an unspoken familiarity. His eyes flicker back to the painting, then to you. “It’s been a long time since then,” he says, his voice gentle, almost reflective.

You glance at him, catching the subtle shift in his tone, something deeper beneath the surface. “Yes,” you reply, turning your gaze back to the painting. “Though being here again… it almost feels like no time at all.”

Jimin studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “I imagine it feels different,” he says, “without your father?”

“Exactly,” you answer, the memory stirring a pang of longing. “It felt safe wherever he was.”

“And now?” His question is soft, careful, as though he’s weighing each word before speaking.

You hesitate before answering, meeting his gaze. “I want to say yes,” you admit honestly, “but experience tells me not to feel safe anywhere.”

Jimin nods, his expression contemplative, and something about his calm presence makes your honesty feel less vulnerable. “You’ve learned not to trust anyone,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet understanding.

You look at him, searching his face, but his steady gaze gives nothing away except an openness that feels disarming.

“You’re right to think that,” he continues, his tone neither judgmental nor apologetic, as if he understands the walls you’ve built all too well.

The words sit between you for a moment before you ask, carefully, “Can I trust you?”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, silence fills the space between you.

“Yes,” he says, his voice quiet but certain. “But you’ll make that decision on your own.”

You nod slowly, his answer settling something inside you. There’s no urgency in his response, just a quiet assurance that feels like a small but solid anchor. It’s not a promise – it’s an invitation.

“Until then,” he continues, his voice softening, “please, make yourself at home. You’re safe here.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything else, but you catch the way he watches you, something unspoken but soft in his expression. You feel it yourself too – after so many years there is so much to say, to ask, but for now you take the peaceful quiet for what it is.

His presence feels closer now and you find yourself smiling faintly, glancing back at the painting.

It occurs to you now, how strange it is, that this time, there is something familiar that Jimin’s presence stirs in you – a reminder of what it feels like to trust, even if only a little.

note. thank you all so much for reading! please don’t be a silent reader :’) this fic takes me forever to write and I’d love for you to share your thoughts w me -- i really wanna know what you guys think! and rb toooo <3333

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