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writtenwhalien · 2 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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ourhees · 5 months ago

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A STONER’S GUIDE TO GET THE GIRL › LHS

TIP 0: don’t lose the girl of your dreams !

warnings: smoking mention

you and heeseung have been together for 2 years. heeseung was by far the best boyfriend you could ever have, your family loved him as well as your friends. but towards the ending of your relationship, you realized heeseung turned to cannabis and began to smoke weed regularly with his friends.

“it’s 12am where are you?” you answered heeseung’s call, his voice barely audible due to his high state.

“at.. uh.. the park with gyu and hoon.. just lost track of time..” he responds, his high clear to you. heeseung was more high that usual.

you sighed heavily, not knowing what to say. “heeseung.. please get home soon..we need to talk.” you demanded slightly.

you couldn’t handle this any longer, your boyfriend was getting high every other day. one day he was normal and his usual self, the next he was rather laid back and relaxed due to the intoxication of the weed hes smoked.

around 2am heeseung walks into the bedroom, his eyes blood shot red, his hair disleveled, and his movements were rather slow. he walks over to the bed, sitting on the edge. you sat up to meet heeseung’s level, looking into his red eyes, feeling a pang of frustration as well as feeling rather guilty.

“heeseung…” you felt your heart break, trying to meet your eyes with him once again. “we can’t keep doing this.”

heeseung, who was beyond the clouds, his eyes met with yours. “what…what are you talking about?” he responds, his mouth movements slow.

“i’m breaking up with you.” you got straight to the point, leaving space between you and heeseung.

heeseung’s brain couldn’t process the words that came out of your mouth, instead he looked at you, his expressions rather relaxed as well as his body. heeseung tries to pull you into bed with him, his eyes growing heavy.

“no heeseung, i’m leaving..” you removed his hands from around your waist, getting up from bed and grabbing your coat and shoes.

heeseung knocked out on the bed, still in his street clothes. your heart broke, as you finally realized what you have done. it was too late to turn back and make things right. “what did i just do..” you sob, trying to walk back to your car.

you call your best friend, hoping to receive some sort of support from her. “hello?” yunjin picks up the phone, hearing your sobs through the line. “y/n… what’s wrong.” her tone drops low.

“i did it.. i broke up with him.” you tried your best to breathe, your sobs only getting heavier. “breathe, it’s alright.. how about you come over and we can talk about it?” yunjin suggests, hoping you’ll come around and talk to her.

that’s exactly what you did, you went to yunjin’s place and told her everything. she proceeded to comfort you and help you heal.

heeseung wakes up the next morning, his head throbbing from an ongoing headache. he picks up his cell phone and tries to call you, “the number you have dialed is unavailable now”

heeseung was confused, trying to process why his calls were not going through. that’s when reality hits him, “oh.. we’re over..” heeseung’s tone drops low? his semi red eyes filling with tears. “what have i done..?” heeseung wipes his tears, sitting on the edge of the bed as he processes reality.

you were gone, and you weren’t coming back.

MASTERLIST • NEXT • PREVIOUS

( 📌 ) :: TAGLIST @elysianiki @kairoot @flwrstqr @sakiimeo @myungjaesgf @aouii @payformycoffeeandleave @leeheesang @mioons @jae-n0 @unhakki @rikibun @mimismenu @sophi-ee @sakanelli-afc @dollyhoons @yeahthisisjustme @nikiswifiee @isabellah29 @mxhlvr @i03jae @luvqirls @onlyhyunjin @clampclover @coqhee @ikeublr @moons-v @iheartjayke @istphanie @felixbrownies @icewons (send an ask or comment to be added)

( 💌 ) :: SAV NOTES beginning chapter we hollered !! just from my planning i can tell this is gonna be great. just another reminder, i do not condone smoking and the use of cannabis. this smau is based on an irl event between me and my ex, but also is pure fiction. my plot does not reflect heeseung in anyway nor will destroy his idol rep !

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imfoive · 5 months ago

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The Youngest Son - Chapter 2

Minho x Reader (fem.) Genre: non-idol au!, Suspense, Angst, Romance, Mature Warnings: mentions of drugs, cursing, death, physical assault, somewhat proofread WC: 4.6k A/N: Had to give "Y/N" a surname for the story to flow. Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The youngest son of the Lee family was stubborn, he was arrogant, he was conniving. Hiding it all behind the mask of a calm and collected man, the youngest son was a master at mind games. Playing a dangerous game where trust is a luxury and betrayal lurks around every corner. He had sworn once, to not let family ties or any feelings hold him back. Yet, against all odds, she had him completely wrapped around her fingers, and he had no desire to break free.

Missed a chapter? - Chapter 1 /

CHAPTER 2 ───────────────────

The engagement party had wound down late into the night, and the last of the reporters had finally departed. Yet, Jae maintained his hold around Y/N’s waist as they made their way to the indoor parking lot reserved for VIPs. It was the gesture of possessiveness that grated on Y/N, her discomfort simmering beneath the surface. Finally alone in the quiet of the nearly empty parking lot, she pushed him away forcefully, a move she had long desired to make.

Jae stumbled back, catching himself against a nearby pillar. His annoyed laughter rang out in the semi-empty space, echoing slightly. The effects of alcohol were evident, his balance wavering as he tried to regain his composure. The chuckle hinted at a carefree demeanor, but Y/N sensed an underlying arrogance that only fueled her frustration further.

“You really need to be taught a lesson.” He murmured, his voice a mixture of amusement and something darker.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N turned to leave, but before she could take more than a step, she was yanked back harshly. A gasp escaped her lips as sudden pain shot down her arm. Jae held her tightly, his chest pressing against her back, one hand twisting her arm painfully behind her, the other snaking around to grasp her jaw forcefully. His breath was hot against her ear as he pressed his face close, a chilling laugh escaping his lips.

“You really don’t know who you’re messing with. Stand down like a good bitch.” He whispered menacingly.

There’s panic in her eyes, yet she still managed to retaliate as her elbow connected sharply with Jae's side, startling him enough for her to break free. She shoved him back, stepping away with a furious glare, her cheeks stinging from his grip.

“I will end you!” She exclaimed firmly, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her.

Jae stumbled back, his expression darkening with anger and surprise. Clutching his side where she had struck him, a brief wince of pain crossed his features before he masked it with a cold smirk.

In a shocking move, he slapped her across the face. The force of the blow sent her stumbling, cheek burning from the impact of his ring. Blood trickled from a cut on her lip. It takes her a moment to register that he had in fact hit her. Not only hit her, but made her bleed. Seeing the blood from her lips on her fingers, anger surged through her. Gripping her purse tightly, she swung it at him with all her strength.

Somewhere deep down she was scared. She was afraid that he would do something to her, that her facade of a strong and confident woman would crumble and he would see she was just another weak woman attempting to fight against a man. She continued to strike him with her purse, the smacks hitting against him, loud.

Jae staggered lower, arms raised to shield himself as he groaned in pain, his drunken state impairing his ability to retaliate effectively. She wasn’t sure how long and how hard she had hit him, he had collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Y/N stood there, trembling with adrenaline and fear, staring down at Jae's unconscious form sprawled on the parking lot ground.

The silence in the parking lot felt suffocating against the backdrop of whatever had just happened. Tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of relief and lingering fear. Clutching her purse tightly, fingers trembling, she sank to her knees beside him, cheek throbbing painfully where he had struck her. She could feel a bruise forming, but her fingers trembled too much to assess the damage properly. Her purse slipped from her grasp, falling limply beside her.

Surrounded by the eerie quiet, Y/N’s thoughts raced. Despite the solitude, her mind was consumed by thoughts of Minho. She longed for his presence, aching for his strength and comfort in that vulnerable moment. ─────────────────────── Minho gently covered Y/N with a soft blanket, tucking it around her with a tenderness that hasn’t disappeared since she showed up at his doorstep. She slept deeply, her exhaustion evident in the lines of strain that softened in her face as she relaxed. Carefully, he took the now-melting ice pack from her hands, noting how worn out she appeared even in her peaceful slumber.

Bringing her wrist closer, Minho inspected the faint bruises left by Jae’s forceful grip. His brow furrowed with concern and a simmering anger, though he kept his expression calm as he examined the marks. Y/N stirred slightly in her sleep, prompting him to gently brush her hair back from her face, his touch light and comforting. The youngest son entered his father’s study the next morning, finding his mother and eldest brother Joohyeon already seated, awaiting their father's arrival. He bowed respectfully to them, receiving nods in return that acknowledged his presence. The atmosphere was formal and tense. The secretary entered and bowed to Minho’s mother, signaling the arrival of their father. When he entered, his demeanor was as stoic as ever, devoid of any hint of warmth or approval. His gaze swept over the room, immediately noting the absence of his second son.

“Where is that good-for-nothing son of yours?” Their father’s voice echoed gruffly through the study, laced with a deeper anger than usual.

The lady in the room sighed, sinking back into her seat on the sofa.

“You know what he’s like. Why do you ask?"

“Father, Jihoon drank too much last night trying to entertain guests. Please cut him some slack.” Joohyeon interjected quickly, rising to defuse the tension.

Minho stifled an internal laugh, they were all so predictable. His father’s gaze settled on him, a rare small smile forming on his lips.

“We don't need that hooligan. Minho is here.” His father declared, dismissing everyone else in the room but focusing his attention squarely on Minho.

Ever since his return from school, the youngest son had been driven by a singular goal. To earn the trust of the Lee family. For Minho, this wasn’t merely about playing the role of an obedient son who followed orders for the sake of his father’s approval. No, he had far deeper ambitions in mind.

As he observed the old man looking at him with a growing sense of trust and relief, Minho felt a cold satisfaction creeping over him. This trust was precisely what fueled Minho’s resolve. How satisfying it would be, he thought, to watch that trust shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.

Every step he took, every word he spoke, was carefully calculated towards that ultimate goal. The facade of loyalty and compliance he wore was a mask, hiding his true intentions beneath layers of deceit and patience.

Instead, the youngest son nods at his father, awaiting his command.

“I tried to speak with your uncle last night after the party. But he kept dodging me. How the hell did he manage to get his drug addict son engaged into the Park family?” His father swiftly turned back to Minho, his eyes searching for answers amidst the disbelief.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” The mother almost berated. “Maybe you are just that girl’s “boy-toy” after all, like the rumors say.” She laughed almost mockingly.

His father’s expression darkened again, his gaze shifting between his wife and his youngest son standing before him.

“She wasn’t aware of it herself. Uncle and Chairman Park must have struck a deal under our radar. I’ll investigate further.” Minho replied evenly, brushing off his mother's mocking remark with practiced indifference.

His demeanor hadn’t changed ever since he had walked in. Minho knew his mother's disdain was palpable, her words a calculated jab meant to undermine him. His older brother, Joohyeon, watched with a mix of curiosity and resentment, clearly feeling overshadowed by the attention focused on Minho.

“Good. You do that.” Without missing a beat, his father turned to his oldest, issuing instructions with authority.

“Joohyeon, pry the information out of Jae. Offer him whatever it takes—drinks, drugs, favors. I'm sure he’ll cave.”

“Jae is at least of some use to Older Brother won’t you say?” All eyes land on his mother, she finally places her cup of tea down, crossing her legs.

Before Joohyeon could respond, his mother interjected with a sharpness that cut through the tension.

“At least Jae serves some purpose to Older Brother, unlike some others.” She glanced pointedly at Minho and then at Joohyeon, emphasizing her belief in their respective shortcomings.

“For a druggie, Jae is actually competent. There’s also Jungshin, his other son who stands proudly. He’s got options. What do you have? A thirty-year-old divorcee, a playboy, and an illegitimate son.” She scoffed, her gaze flickering between Minho and Joohyeon.

Minho stood stoically as he sensed the storm gathering in his father’s eyes. The simmering anger was only rising amongst the tension in the room

“Get Lee Jihoon here now!” His father’s voice boomed, directed at his secretary, who promptly nodded and swiftly exited the room. The constant vibrations of her phone against the coffee table jolted her awake. Sitting up, the sharp pain on her cheek reminds her of the ordeal she had gone through the previous night. She gingerly touched her cheek, wincing at the tenderness. Glancing around, she realized she was still in Minho’s living room. She had dozed off after taking painkillers, recalling she had fallen asleep on his lap, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

Her phone buzzed insistently on the coffee table, drawing her attention to a flurry of missed calls and messages from her mother, secretary, and friends offering congratulations. She sighed, almost tossing the phone back down when it vibrates once more with an incoming call, displaying Minho’s name.

“Still not awake?” His voice came through, unexpectedly loud in the quietude around her.

She looks around, clearing her throat.

“What are you talking about, I’m having breakfast at home.” She lied, trying to sound composed as she gathered her belongings.

Minho chuckled knowingly. “I guess you missed the breakfast I left on the counter then.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced over her shoulder towards the direction of his kitchen.

There was a rustling sound on Minho’s end, the faint echo of a car door closing. His voice turned serious, cutting through the distance between them.

“I know a way to get you out of this engagement.”

Her brows narrow, a serious expression replacing her confused one.

“Do you trust me?” ─────────────────────── There was a tense atmosphere at headquarters following the engagement event, with both families and key figures present. Y/N wasn’t one to typically arrive late to important meetings, but circumstances had led to her delay. Even Jae managed to appear, despite his rough morning awakening in a parking lot. Jihoon’s presence itself was a surprise, still dressed in last night's party attire. Minho observed the room, noting the uneasy shifting and forced smiles exchanged among attendees. His mother and aunt engaged in polite conversation with Y/N’s mother, while their fathers conversed intently. Minho’s uncle glanced at the clock, signaling impatience.

Jae sported noticeable slices and cuts on his neck, dismissed as a shaving mishap though Minho suspected otherwise. His siblings, Jungshin and Jookshin whispered to each other, casting glances at their watches. Finally, Y/N’s mother cleared her throat, attempting to maintain composure.

“She’s usually punctual. Something must have delayed her.” She remarked with a strained smile.

Her father’s expression darkened in either concern or impatience, gesturing to his assistant to investigate. As the assistant hurried towards the door, it swung open, revealing her entrance. She wore sunglasses and a meticulously styled outfit, but the shock on everyone’s faces betrayed any semblance of normalcy. The click of her heels echoed loudly in the silence as she removed her glasses, briefly meeting Minho’s eyes before turning to her astonished father, confusion etched across her features.

“What the hell happened to your face?!” Her father’s exclamation cut through the stunned silence, his eyes wide with concern and anger as he noticed the severe bruising on her cheek.

“Oh. This? Ah, it was a gift from Jae.” She brushed her fingers lightly across her bruised cheek, almost as if she had forgotten it was there.

All eyes in the room shifted towards Jae, whose own widened in response to the sudden attention. It was clear he wasn't in a favorable position.

“You dare?!” Her father erupted, swiftly rising from his seat and lunging towards Jae, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him out of his chair. Chaos ensued as others rushed to intervene, older men restraining her father while his brothers and cousins rallied around Jae’s defense.

Minho took a step back, absorbing the chaotic scene unfolding before him. His gaze shifted towards Y/N, noting her mother by her side, attentively inspecting her bruised face.

“The deal is off. Get this son-of-a-bitch out of my face!”

Her father’s abrupt departure and the resounding slam of the door startled everyone in the room, causing a collective flinch. His assistant hurriedly followed after him, while her mother cast a furious glance at Minho’s uncle and Jae before ushering Y/N away, brushing past Minho in the process.

He stepped aside gracefully, a fleeting smile briefly appearing on his lips before vanishing.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

It wasn’t just the slap itself that angered her father. It wasn’t merely the visible bruise on her face. No, what truly infuriated him was the public display of her injury.

He may appear to be a caring father, protective of his daughter’s well-being. But beneath that facade was an egotistical businessman, driven by his own ambitions.

Minho understood this well.

If she had gone to her father after the incident instead of confiding in Minho, the outcome would have been vastly different. Surely they had made some deal between the families, and breaking it comes with its own headache. The old man would have employed his manipulative tactics instead, coaxing her into forgiveness, making excuses for Jae’s behavior, shedding tears to evoke sympathy maybe. It would have been the classic emotional blackmail routine. Despite her intelligence, confidence, and success at a young age, she would have relented. She would have let it go, perhaps succumbing to obedience under Jae’s influence.

And Minho couldn’t allow that to happen. Not when she had always been the opposite with him. Always strong-willed, independent, and unyielding.

It wasn’t about pride or ego. It was about possessiveness. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being subdued, especially not by someone like Jae.

She was his. ─────────────────────── Jae and his father stood rigidly, their arms crossed in front of them, facing Chairman Lee with a demeanor that betrayed the recent beating Jae had endured. Despite the marks, they awaited whatever judgment was to come from the elderly man who wielded unseen power behind many family decisions.

Chairman Lee appeared unassuming to the public eye, often seen savoring his favorite tea while observing birds, playing golf, or on extended fishing trips. Officially retired from the company, his influence remained undeniable. His words carried weight and his directives were law.

During one of his fishing excursions, he had caught wind of the scandal his grandson had caused.

He calmly cut his steak into small pieces, glancing up at the father-son duo.

“Hey Mooyoung, what happened to his face?” Chairman Lee asked his son casually, taking a sip of his water.

“Father, I taught him a lesson. You don’t have to worry about it.” Mooyoung replied curtly.

The old man studied Jae’s red and bruised face, then turned back to his son with a stern expression.

“You didn’t teach your son that only cowards hit women?” He asked pointedly.

“Secretary Cha, go ahead.” He waved at another older man who had been waiting for the Chairman's orders.

“Father, please, I’ve already hit him enough.” Mooyoung interjected, attempting to placate his father's anger. Jae cowered behind his father, joining in the plea to his grandfather.

The chairman frowned, stabbing his fork into another piece of steak thoughtfully.

“We already went over this after his last mess. This was his last chance.”

The slap that Secretary Cha gives Jae echoes loudly in the room. Mooyoung could only stand straight, pressing his hands tightly in-front of him.

The second slap makes him flinch, shutting his eyes tight.

“Grandfather! I’m sorry! I wasn’t in the right state of mind!” Jae cried, dropping to his knees in desperation

“You know how much trouble we had to go through after he physically assaulted that escort? What good does professionalism do when you have a messy private life that catches the public eye?” The old man demanded, his tone laced with frustration and disappointment.

The third slap makes Jae cower on the ground in fetal position, his hands shielding his face.

His father’s hand outstretched but freezes, retreating under the weight of the Chairman’s gaze.

After a prolonged silence, Grandfather Lee sighed, gesturing to his secretary.

“That’s enough. You can stop.”

Secretary Cha nodded crisply, adjusting his suit jacket as he returned to his place by the door, standing rigidly.

Jae remained on the ground, sobbing and trembling. Mooyoung’s discomfort was evident, yet he remained composed, standing resolutely.

The old man rose from his seat, setting his fork and knife down meticulously.

“Ensure he maintains a low profile for the foreseeable future. I don’t want him anywhere near the Parks or the main house.” Chairman Lee instructed as he started to leave the private dining room.

He paused by his son, muttering over his shoulder.

“I didn’t arrange for their engagement just for this mess. Fix it before I find you useless as well.” He admonished his son with a sharp glare.

“Has Minho arrived?” He asks his secretary by the door.

“He’s waiting at the golf course sir.”

Hearing about Minho, the old man’s lips curled into a rare smile, the first one seen from him that day. Observing this, Mooyoung’s anger intensified visibly, his fingers tightening into fists before him.

In the Lee family hierarchy, Minho occupied the lowest rung. However, in the eyes of the Lee family patriarch, Minho held a distinct and pivotal position. He was the top dog’s top confidant and executor of commands, and Minho willingly and efficiently carried out every directive given to him. The sound of the golf putter striking the ball rang out loudly as the sun began its descent, casting a golden hue over the course. The old man appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Great shot, Grandfather.” Minho chimed in, joining his side and taking the putter from the old man’s hands.

“But I still didn’t win the last game.” The grandfather laughed, patting Minho’s shoulder before strolling towards the awaiting golf cart.

Attendees hurriedly gathered around Minho, swiftly collecting the golf equipment and loading it onto the cart. Minho sat beside his grandfather, gazing up at the setting sun as the golf cart smoothly carried them back to the resort, where they planned to enjoy coffee together.

“My doctor doesn’t recommend me drinking much caffeine, but it’s so addicting.” The old man chuckled, taking a sip of his dalgona coffee. Minho sighed with amusement, reaching for his own cup.

“Was it your idea?” Grandfather Lee asked, settling back in his seat.

Minho tilts his head in confusion, placing his cup down.

“What do you mean?” He pretended.

He knew exactly what he meant. The dramatic ending of a few-hour old engagement seemed like it came out from a soap opera. Instead, the old man chuckled again, dismissing his own question with a wave of his hand.

“No, I was just wondering if you are, in fact, dating that Young Miss from the Park family.” His laugh subsides, a smile settled on his lips.

Minho shook his head, maintaining his own smile.

“I’m not. I keep her on good terms in case we need her help sometime down the road.”

The grandfather nodded understandingly, his toothy grin unwavering.

“Good. It’s wise to keep useful people at arm's length. That’s why I admire you, Minho.”

There conversation took a turn to a different topics and sometime into the evening, Minho's phone vibrated, prompting him to excuse himself from the conversation.

Secretary Cha walks up to the now alone old man, handing him his handkerchief.

“My test resulted in a more interesting outcome than I’d thought. That Minho is a smart one.” Chairman Lee remarked.

“Are you going to stand behind him Sir?” Secretary Cha asks.

“He’s a smart one, but he’s just like me in my youth.” He looks up to his secretary.

“Would you trust me?” ─────────────────────── Y/N fiddled with her necklace, her gaze fixed on her reflection, her bruised cheek mottled with shades of red and blue. She reached for a makeup wipe and briskly swiped at it, removing eighty percent of the discoloration. The bruise wasn't severe, but she needed to provoke her father enough to call off the engagement.

And it worked.

Now, all she had to focus on was making Jae pay for harming her face. Minho’s words from the previous night echoed in her mind.

“Should I kill him?”

Someone like Minho could, if she said yes.

And just at the thought of that, her heart clenched. She had always kept Minho close by her side, ever since they were teenagers. Though she had often coerced him into staying with her, leveraging his compliance, she enjoyed his company. Even if it was by force.

She never really had an interest in him. He was always scheming, calculating, and kept his distance from others intentionally. He often feigned vulnerability to lower others' guards. Y/N had known him since they began studying together at thirteen, but it was only at fifteen that he caught her attention. Supposedly handsome and reputedly the smartest in school, these qualities didn’t impress her. To her, he was just another privileged young man from a powerful but insular family that everyone else feared to cross.

Or so she thought.

The girls grew weary of his hard-to-get antics. The teachers were only interested in the money lining their pockets. The boys harbored envy over his prowess in everything, although that wasn’t all his fault. Y/N observed all of this from the bleachers of the gym, where she sat among her peers, watching the boys play basketball. She witnessed how some boys would deliberately trip Minho, and how he would brush it off with a smile, seemingly unaware of their intentions.

Turning her gaze to the front, she saw a group of girls holding up signs professing their love for Lee Minho, loudly cheering for his every move. It frustrated her how they could switch so quickly from gossiping about him in the girls’ bathroom to adoring him openly. Minho acknowledged them with a wave and a smile as he paused for water, causing them to swoon even more.

Y/N couldn’t stand him. The mixed signals, the fake flattery from others despite their private criticisms—it all fueled her resentment towards him.

A split second. Just a fleeting moment. A brief frown crossed his face when he realized his bottle had been tampered with, filled with salt. In that split second, he acknowledged it and then continued drinking as if nothing was amiss.

She stopped him in the hall, he smiled at her asking if she needed anything. All she could do was look at the empty water bottle in his hand.

“Wasn’t it salty?” She asked, her tone direct.

His smile faltered briefly as he raised the bottle to glance at it. She could see the wheels turning in his mind, realizing she was responsible for the salt in his drink.

“It was quite refreshing actually, especially after running around.” He replied politely, masking any discomfort.

Her eyes drifted down to the red burn on his knee from the earlier trip.

“Should I get you another cold bottle for that?” She inquired, gesturing towards his knee.

“That’s fine. Thank you.”Minho replied calmly, beginning to walk away. But Y/N abruptly slammed her arm against the wall, blocking his path.

Despite her shorter stature, her temper was fierce, fueled by a stubborn streak. She was undeniably a force to be reckoned with.

“You can fool everyone else, Lee Minho. But I’ve had my eyes on you. You’re nothing but a fake.” She accused sharply, her voice laced with disdain.

For the first time, a shadow crossed Minho’s usually composed expression. His smile faltered, replaced by a cool, calculating gaze as he looked down at her.

“And what will you do about it?” He challenged softly, stepping closer until he towered over her, his tall frame intimidating in the narrow hallway.

She involuntarily took a step back, feeling the weight of his presence.

“Don’t piss me off.” He muttered icily, pressing the empty water bottle against her before releasing it.

She instinctively caught the bottle before it hit the ground. Minho turned and walked away without another word.

“You’ll pay for this.” Y/N muttered through gritted teeth, crushing the bottle in her hands, her anger seething, even though he had done nothing to deserve it—at least not yet.

She chased after him that day, her footsteps echoing through the halls as she turned corners in pursuit. As she ran, she questioned why she was expending so much energy on this kid. Finally reaching the second-floor balcony, she spotted Minho below on the ground floor, standing near a parked car where an older man, presumably his father, confronted him. From her vantage point, she could see Minho's posture. His hands clasped behind his back, head bowed in submission.

Quickly, Y/N ducked behind a nearby pillar, crouching low to observe them without being noticed. The scene that unfolded before her shocked and unsettled her. The slap that resounded across Minho's cheek made her flinch involuntarily. She watched in stunned silence as Minho gave no sign of resistance. As if that was a normal occurrence.

“You lost the game? You’re barely the first in the school, what good are you?” His father’s voice echoed sternly.

“I’m sorry, father. I’ll better myself.” Minho replied obediently.

His father shoved him back, his gaze dropping to Minho’s knee.

“You should be more grateful. You’re allowed to say you’re a Lee. Hold your head high.” He admonished.

Minho straightened immediately, arms behind his back, head held high, staring straight ahead.

“I want you to take part in the triathlon coming up. And win.” His father demanded sharply, spitting out the words before walking away towards the waiting car.

As the car drove off beyond the main gates, Minho's hands dropped to his knees, supporting himself.

“I never asked to be a Lee.” Minho muttered bitterly to himself, retrieving his gym bag from the ground as the car drove off through the main gates.

Suddenly, Minho’s voice rang out, cutting through the air.

“Aren’t you gonna show yourself?!”

Her eyes widened in surprise, realizing she had been caught. When had he spotted her? Slowly, she rose, a guilty expression on her face, knowing she had intruded on something she wasn’t supposed to see.

It was a first for her. The first time she had seen such vulnerability in one of these affluent kids. They all lived in luxury, flaunting new possessions whenever their parents visited, shallowness dripping from their gazes. They wore new necklaces, not handprints from a slap.

As she met Minho’s gaze, unsure of what to say, she knew this encounter had changed something between them.

Was it pity that drew her closer? ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

113 notes · View notes

edenesth · 10 months ago

Text

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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hoonieyun · 1 month 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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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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divinesangel · 5 months ago

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k-pop tarot masterlist (pt. 1)

— bts jungkook and his fs' energy jungkook's current energy what are bts' fs busy with right now? jungkook's envisioned vs. real future when will bts get married? how bts sees newjeans what will jungkook like about his fs physically? taehyung's ideal type jimin energy jungkook as a bf obstacles between jungkook and his fs taehyung's energy is jungkook the type to pop the question early in the relationship? will namjoon get his license? how does bts and blackpink see each other? is it likely for jungkook to get another dog? why was jungkook mixtape taking long? what makes jk decide to want to marry his fs would jungkook get a tattoo dedicated to his spouse? did yg or hybe plan the whole jennie and taehyung situation? what happened between jimin and jeongyeon? will lisa and taehyung work together in the future? what does lisa think of taehyung? jimin channeled message to his fs are rosé and jungkook friends? how did jungkook feel about the success of his debut song? jungkook's opinion on scooter braun? is jungkook dating someone? has jungkook thought of buying real estate in the US? does jungkook and his fs have anything in common? update on jennie and taehyung jennie and jungkook

— itzy i.n and yuna's connection the boyz' juyeon and ryujin yuna and felix will ryujin act in 2023? how does jyp view itzy, their music direction, and will he give them more age appropriate songs? itzy's health lia's current situation

— newjeans newjeans's current energy + guidance how do newjeans feel about min heejin and the scandal? how do blackpink and newjeans see each other? how newjeans and le sserafim see each other haerin as a friend minji and hanni dynamic newjeans feelings towards the hybe and ador situation

— twice twice's jeongyeon current energy what do twice members think of jihyo what happened between jimin and jeongyeon? sana's current and future energy jihyo solo debut nayeon and sana friendship twice's momo career jeongyeon career jihyo and daniel kang twice's health

— blackpink jennie's energy is jennie aware about her concert stages? jennie and rosé how do blackpink and new jeans see each other? will lisa have another solo album? rosé's energy what idols think of blackpink do the members see people shipping them with others? did lisa and rosé really fight? why? rosé as a girlfriend mtl to tell of haters in bp blackpink energy check up how does blackpink and bts see each other? did yg or hybe plan the whole jennie and taehyung situation? how does bp view teddy, bekuh boom and yg? jennie's energy will lisa and taehyung work together in the future? what does lisa think of taehyung? did the weeknd and jennie have a thing? are rosé and jungkook friends? is there any chance jennie will get back together with kai? jennie and lisa's friendship jisoo and ahn bohyun will blackpink stay as a group? what will jennie solo comeback be like? lisa and park bogum's relationship will rosé and jacob elordi meet again? friends? jennie and camila collab jungkook's and rosé connection update on jennie and taehyung jennie and g-dragon: were the rumors true? jennie and jungkook is jennie friends with the seventeen members? peso pluma's thoughts on blackpink update on lisa and frederic mingyu and lisa is rosé friends with the actor kim jae wook? are rosé and eunwoo dating? will bp do more activities besides online fanmeetings? reactions to lisa's rockstar jennie's upcoming solo release will a girl group ever surpass blackpink in the future?

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softplots · 1 year ago

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MASTERLIST — female korean names !!

hi sweeties !! there are #50 (FIFTY) female korean names under the cut, they were all taken from kdramas. hope you guys like it !! please like/reblog if you found this useful !!

Park Se-Hee

In Byuel

Go Yu-Na

Kim San-Ha

Na Joo-Hee

Han Song-Yi

Lee Mi-Yeon

Jung Jung-Won

Shin Ki-Won

Kwon Na-Ra

Ah Mi

Yoon Hee

Young-geun

Yoo-joo

Heo Soon-sim

Choi Sun-ah

Shin Ki-yoon

Mi-so

Baek Na-hee

Ma Ho-Young

Lee So-Yeon

So-Jin

Lee Hyun-ji

Ah-reum

Yoon So-rim

Eun Tae-hee

Seong Mi-do

Ahn Ja-yeong

Hong Chae-ri

Eun-seo

Oh Ha-rin

Baek Je-na

Kim Ga-yeon

Seon-hwa

Son Ae

Eun Ok

Eun-mi

Kang Hye-young

Lee Yoo-ri

Choi Dong-joo

Jung-soo

Kim Yeong-chae

Jo Hae-In

Bae Doo-rae

Jo Ki-bum

Joo Wol

Yoo Young-joo

Joo Wol

Lee Yoo-jeong

Mo Jae-in

#krph #rph #masterlist #names masterlist #╱ 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 ﹕ masterlists .#rp resources #names help #korean names

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nerdlvr · 19 days 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 · 1 month 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. They’ve 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

#jimin x reader #pjm #park jimin #park jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin series #bts series #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #jimin imagines #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #bts mafia #park jimin x you #jimin masterlist #bts masterlist

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cerisahh · 8 months ago

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LOOKISM MASTERLIST

check out my main masterlist for other fandoms i write for

PARK HYUNGSEOK / DANIEL PARK

・　thanksgiving

PARK HA NEUL / ZOE PARK

・　nothing yet…

LEE JIN SUNG / ZACK LEE

・　nothing yet…

KIM MI JIN / MIRA KIM

・　nothing yet…

HONG JAE YEOL / JAY HONG

・　nothing yet…

LEE EUN TAE / EUNTAE LEE

・　nothing yet…

PARK BUM JAE / JACE PARK

・　nothing yet…

JIN HO BIN / VIN JIN

・　nothing yet…

KANG DAGYUM / DIEGO KANG

・　fangirl

PARK JONG GEON / GUN PARK

・　jealous

JANG HYUN / ELI JANG

・　nothing yet…

#࣪ ִֶָ☾. cerisa’s masterlists #lookism masterlist #hyungseok #ha neul #jin sung #mi jin #jae yeol #euntae #bum jae #ho bin #dagyum #jong geon #hyun

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imfoive · 4 months ago

Text

The Youngest Son - Chapter 4

Minho x Reader (fem.) Genre: non-idol au!, Suspense, Angst, Romance, Mature Warnings: mentions of drugs, cursing, murder, death, somewhat proofread WC: 5.7k A/N: I'm really wowed by how quickly I planned this out. Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST

Missed a chapter? - Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

CHAPTER 4 ───────────────────

Following the death of Lee Jae, the rest of the business circle remained oblivious to the secret project that Park Hyunmin had meticulously planned for quite some time.

Rose Enterprises.

Park Hyunmin was still young when he returned from Australia to embark on his entrepreneurial journey. Naming the company after his late Australian mother, who had passed away during his teenage years, held deep personal significance for him. Despite that he successfully transformed the Park family, who had initially started as hotel workers in Australia, into prominent figures in the hospitality industry almost immediately, even expanding into the restaurant business.

Hyunmin’s reputation and influence were unparalleled, any collaboration with the Park Family and Rose Enterprises promised to catapult an entrepreneur’s importance in their society. However, Park Hyunmin wasn’t seeking just any entrepreneur for this ambitious venture.

L Corporation had solidified its position as a major player in the industrial industry, with its name attached to some of the largest malls, resorts, hotels, and even bridges. They were known for their wealth, intelligence, and strategic business ordeals. They were a perfect fit for Park Hyunmin’s ambitions. However, despite their success, the director harbored reservations about trusting them completely.

Since Chairman Lee’s retirement and the subsequent takeover by his sons, there had been a noticeable shift within L Corporation. The once formidable leadership of Chairman Lee, who single-handedly managed client needs, was replaced by his less competent sons. And despite their shortcomings, they somehow managed to maintain L Corp.’s top position in the industry.

However, the next generation, the grandchildren, was a mixed bag. Only three out of six were deemed worthy of praise. Park Hyunmin saw potential collaboration with L Corporation as both an opportunity and a risk, weighing the benefits of their established reputation against the uncertainty of their internal dynamics.

The oldest, Jungshin. He was excelling, but mostly took care of their overseas branches.

Then came Joohyeon. He was always falling short, but still did well. He was once married to some mayor’s daughter, but even that didn’t last.

Jookshin was the only daughter of the family. She was married off early to another big name family in the medical field, she still did her part.

Jihoon was the oddball. He was never present for anything, people sometimes forget he was also part of the family.

Jae did somewhat of a decent job, barely hitting the line. The only time he actually hit, was women and drugs. Although he did have everyone fooled that he had changed.

Finally Minho. The youngest son.

He kept his life extremely private. He was always present, yet didn’t have any scandals to his name. It’s surprising that he was able to avoid being corrupted by the not so pretty deeds of his older brothers.

Minho was a frequent topic of conversation for Y/N. Despite being the same age, their personalities couldn't have been more different. Y/N, spirited and carefree, stood in stark contrast to Minho’s stoicism. This contrast intrigued Park Hyunmin.

As a young man, Minho often went unnoticed in rooms filled with older, more established figures. However, his capabilities became glaringly apparent during the press conference following Jae’s scandal involving drugs and an escort a few years back.

At just twenty-one, Minho had adeptly managed the fallout almost single-handedly, impressing Park Hyunmin with his poise and skill.

It dawned on Park Hyunmin then.

Lee Minho was their secret weapon in damage control. A role he seemed to excel in more with each passing challenge.

He was young enough to navigate situations with unnoticed ease, often slipping under the radar without drawing undue attention to himself. Minho maintained a reserved demeanor, always composed yet aware, easily finding solutions to various challenges and obstacles.

However, Park Hyunmin harbored a growing dissatisfaction with the amount of time his daughter spent in Minho’s company.

He noticed how Minho attempted to avoid Y/N’s advances at social gatherings, only to find himself inevitably drawn into her orbit. Despite his efforts to maintain distance, their paths seemed to cross frequently, leading to speculation and rumors about their dynamic.

The gossip mill labeled Minho as Y/N’s “boy-toy,” a rumor that had gained momentum over the past years due to their peculiar relationship. From Park Hyunmin’s perspective, there wasn’t even enough substance to define what they had as a relationship, adding to his unease about their closeness.

They were Business friends.

And everyone knew what that term meant. But he was starting to wonder if his daughter did.

A few months before the grand engagement announcement, during Park Hyunmin and his wife’s anniversary celebration, Y/N’s father had observed Minho being pulled away from a group and disappearing with Y/N onto the terrace overlooking the garden. It wasn’t an uncommon sight but it caught the father’s eye. Concerned, he found Minho later, getting some fresh air along the stairway, or so he claimed.

With a directness typical of him, the father posed a question to Minho that caught him off guard.

“Do you see yourself marrying my daughter?”

Minho’s bewildered expression was enough for Y/N’s father to discern that romantic interest was not the reason behind their closeness. So, he pressed further, pointing out the societal gossip surrounding them.

“Then what is it? Isn’t it a bit unusual for you two to always be together? People in this society talk.”

Maintaining his composure, Minho stood upright and faced Y/N’s father squarely.

“People in this society always talk.” He replied calmly with a polite smile.

“Y/N and I are simply classmates who have become acquaintances. It’s difficult to find trustworthy acquaintances in our circle. We’ve known each other for years, learned together, so it’s natural for her to seek me out. That’s all.”

Park Hyunmin took a sip of his drink, adjusting his glasses, he mused. “Acquaintances, huh?”

“Yes, acquaintances.” Minho affirmed.

They weren’t even friends.

Y/N’s father would be lying if he said he didn’t think of proposing for Lee Minho to get engaged with his daughter, especially when considering how Minho could be an asset in dealing with L Corporation. However, the conversation he had with Minho by the stairwell weighed heavily on his mind.

Besides, pursuing an engagement with Minho would mean entering into a deal with the second son of Chairman Lee, whose capabilities fell short in Park Hyunmin’s estimation. While both brothers had their strengths and weaknesses, and claimed there was no disparity between the sub families within the Lee line, Rose Enterprises’ grand project demanded the best, and the director was inclined towards the more competent option.

Everything had seemed to be going according to his plans, until it went awry somewhere along.

With Jae’s recent death and the sudden decision to delay announcing the broken engagement, Park Hyunmin’s ambitious “Rose Garden” project had to be put on hold.

Despite the circumstances, his daughter Y/N had to maintain the facade of being Jae’s fiancée, a role she reluctantly played for the time being. Other families offered condolences and sent gifts, but beneath the surface, they were all calculating the right moment to propose alliances for the hand of the sole heiress.

In the competitive world they inhabited, Y/N’s engagement had been seen as a significant social event, marking her availability for marriage. Now, as they awaited the appropriate period of mourning to pass, other families were poised to make their moves, eager to secure advantageous unions with the prestigious Park family.

Y/N scoffs at the gift that some no-name nobody had sent her in efforts to woo her. A token of sympathy adorned with pretty flowers and hollow offers of support. The messages always carried the same undertone “if you ever needed someone to talk to” they were always ready to listen.

It’s been six months since Jae died. Initially, it was all the news would talk about for weeks on end, trying to dig deeper, trying to come up with theories of how he died.

But then someone else in high society did something stupid and the media was all over that.

Y/N’s mother was another headache, who just couldn’t catch a hint. Surprisingly her nice mother hadn’t been corrupted, even after having lived in high society for over twenty-five years, but she was easily trusting. She was a simple woman really, who Park Hyunmin had met when he was still trying to make The Rose Enterprises bigger than it was. They had risen together, but that woman didn’t change.

However, Y/N found her mother’s continuous efforts to set her up with potential suitors exasperating. These men were often charming and polite in social settings, but Y/N saw through their facade, politeness merely a pretense to curry favor. But despite Y/N’s attempts to shut down these setups, her mother persisted in her well-meaning, but misguided approach.

“Isn’t Kim Seungmin the nice young man from the mall?” The mother read the gift card.

“Yeah, the one whose family owns the Star Mall chain.” She retorted dryly, clearly unimpressed by her mother’s matchmaking efforts.

The mother hesitated, then suggested, “What about giving it a chance? He seemed polite and well-mannered.”

“Really? Jae seemed like a good person too, until he attacked me in our own hotel parking lot.” Y/N countered sharply.

The mention of Jae’s actions visibly hardened her mother’s expression, acknowledging the truth in Y/N’s words even if reluctantly. It was truly a bad decision that her husband had made, blinded by ambition and the lies about Jae changing for the better.

There’s a knock on the glass door to her office, and a few seconds later Y/N’s father entered, brightening up at the sight of both ladies.

“Ah, what are you doing here?” He asks his wife.

“Trying to convince this one to meet someone for a blind date.”

Her father was used to her mother’s naivety, chuckling as he nodded and took a seat next to. His attention immediately drew to the colorful basket of flowers on the table. He picked up the card attached to it, glancing over its contents with curiosity.

“You know, having the Kim’s at our side isn’t a bad idea. They’re established and even have a few more small projects planned.” Her father begins to say, glancing up at her, cautiously.

“Just tell me if we’re already engaged. I seem to be the last one to find out about my own engagement anyway.” She muttered.

Her father glanced guiltily at her mother once before looking at her. His expression hardened.

“If you’re waiting in hopes that Lee Minho will suddenly take an interest in you, you can forget it.”

The mention of Minho’s name brought her attention automatically to look at her father. Brows narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“That young man has a clear set of goals. And you aren’t one of them.” Her father’s words were stern, warning.

Y/N blinked back, taking in his words. She bit back, jaw tightening as she frowned angrily.

Just who did he think he was to reject her? She hadn’t even confessed.

As Minho sat in his office, engrossed in his work, the door suddenly swung open and his mother sauntered in, her gaze sweeping critically around the room.

“Love what you’ve done to the place. Very…minimalistic.” She remarked, her tone carrying a hint of judgment.

Minho stood up, setting aside his work with a slight frown.

“What brings you here?” He asked curtly, not eager to engage in an unnecessary conversation with her.

“That’s not of any importance to you.” She replied dismissively.

He couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh, rolling his eyes in exasperation. It was clear she was here to babble nonsense, trying to get information or even a rise out of him.

“If you’re in the mood to waste someone’s time, I’m sure father is taking his lunch break.” He retorted, starting to walk back towards his desk.

“Y/N’s mother has been asking around for decent young men in our circle. Poor woman doesn’t realize we have no decent men in our society, bless her.” His mother continued casually, a smile playing on her lips.

She watched his stoic composure, leaning against his desk, unbothered, unsurprisingly.

“Does Y/N know anything about it?” She continued.

He turned to face his mother, his expression guarded. She was sharp and well-educated, yet she had a penchant for gossip like any other high-society woman.

“How would I know what Y/N is or isn’t aware of?” Minho replied coolly, sliding his hands into his pockets.

His mother shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I assume you would, since you two are always together. Maybe she’d have mentioned it to you.”

“Y/N and I are not close.” Minho stated firmly, turning his attention back towards his desk, his fingers idly playing with the pens lined up.

“I have absolutely no interest in her or what she thinks. Her desperation keeps me entertained, that’s all. She’s of no importance to me.”

Just as he looked up, his expression suddenly fell, his eyes widening as they passed his mother and landed on the figure standing in the doorway.

There stood the woman who was of no importance to him.

───────────────────────

The memories of a first kiss are something that a person typically doesn’t forget. Whether it’s was a bad kiss, a fleeting peck, or a passionate embrace, the fluttering feeling in their hearts are etched into memory.

But for Y/N, her first kiss was with a complete stranger.

She dubbed him her “cross-chain kisser.” Amid the pulsing lights of the club, the only detail she could vividly recall was the silver cross pendant hanging from his neck.

Y/N had just turned nineteen, and her father had spared no expense in throwing a grand party at one of their hotels. It was his only daughter’s birthday after all. He always made a big deal out of her birthday, but this one was different. This was her first birthday back home.

Of course for a few hours of the evening she had to act prim and proper, dressed elegantly in a shiny dress to greet her father’s guests. They all wished her for her grand day, expensive gifts lining up that seemed more intended to impress her parents than please her. She forced a smile, something she still couldn’t get used to after spending the last seven years out of the country for her academics. She felt more like a show-piece standing in between her mother and father, smiling and absolutely tired from greeting all the unfamiliar faces that came up to her.

The Lee family arrived sometime into the party, each member eager to catch a glimpse of Y/N Park, the heiress to all of Park Hyunmin’s wealth. They showered her with the usual lines of compliments, praising her beauty and noting how she had matured into a proper young woman. That she would finally be able to help with the company and showcase her talent. They didn’t even know her well enough to know of her so-called talent.

She was bored, she was tired.

Until Lee Minho came forward, his father and mother in front of him, the older woman’s arm was linked around her husbands. Y/N’s gaze brightened up, smiling at the familiar face, dressed impeccably well in his black formal wear and not his school uniform. Y/N’s father was surprised to see Minho, unable to recall they even had a third son. Minho greeted the man, telling him he’ll make sure to leave an impression on him so he won’t forget next time. The birthday girl couldn’t help but smile at his remark, which had made both sets of parents break into a light chuckle.

A natural charmer, that one.

She saw the quick glance he gave her while their parents engaged in conversation. She waited for him to come forward, they hadn’t gotten a chance to meet after returning back from school. It had been weeks. Much too long for Y/N, who had gotten into a habit of bothering him for the past four years. But he didn’t come forward.

She frowned, refusing to give in and be the one to walk up to him. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him and not hiding her displeasure. He looked in her direction, watching as she bites the inside of her cheek, her disappointed expression not leaving her face. With a sigh, Minho slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks before finally walking towards her. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk, her head tilting cockily, silently asserting her victory to the one-sided battle she was having. He didn’t really see what was so wrong in coming up to your greet your guests, but it was her birthday party after all, and he didn’t need her complaining. Especially if her complaints reached his parents’ ears, something he didn’t need right now.

Putting on his polite smile, the kind Y/N had learned to recognize after years of observation, Minho greeted her.

“Happy Birthday, Miss Park.” Minho’s tone dripped of formality.

The way he addressed her had irked the heiress, as if he was putting a distance between them, emphasizing to any onlookers that they were mere acquaintances.

“You clean up well.” She responded instead, her arms still crossed, eyes glancing over him.

He cleared his throat, muttering a low “hmm.”

“How do I look?” Y/N inquired, lifting one side of her dress slightly to show it off.

Minho watched the fabric shimmer under the bright lights before meeting her expectant gaze. Obvious, she wanted a compliment.

“Like a disco ball.” He coolly stated.

She rolled her eyes, expecting that sort of response from him. Instead she looked around, then stepped in closer. Her actions garner him to instinctively pull his head back stunned, watching her lean closer before glancing side-to-side, she starts speaking in a low tone.

“Some of the other kids and I are going clubbing later. They want to give me a big welcome back, join us.” Y/N whispered, smiling and nodding towards a group of young adults in their circle who were mingling at a nearby table.

“Have fun.” He said instead, making her blink back a little surprised.

Minho back in Australia would have said he’d be there if she pressed. He would have ultimately agreed to go together even.

Minho back in Australia wouldn’t have called her Miss Y/N.

He nodded politely and smiled, glancing briefly at his parents who had already moved on to socialize among the other wealthy guests. With a slight smirk, Minho took a few steps backward, his gaze and smile almost taunting her, before turning and walking away. As if he had won.

He did in fact not show up that night.

Y/N even wore a black dress, slit daringly higher than appropriate, but enough to tell everyone that she was an adult. A grown woman. But he didn’t show, like he had said.

She was upset.

More angry than upset really, not that she should have been because he had already declined the invite. His words were clear. But imagining his smug expression as he walked away earlier that evening, pissed her off even more.

The other kids kept offering shots. She downed them one after another, pretending to be a seasoned drinker while inwardly cringing at the burning sensation and bitter taste that threatened to overwhelm her, a taste she was not used to. She couldn’t let them see that, her brave face smirking confidently at every other shot and drink coming at her.

At some point in the night, Y/N found herself on the dance floor with someone’s arm around her waist, though she couldn’t quite distinguish whose it was. The dim lights and the haze of alcohol made faces blur together. It might have been Chunyang or Chaeyoung, she couldn’t remember and didn’t really care. Everyone was starting to look the same to her.

Y/N had never gotten drunk before, she didn’t know what being drunk felt like. But if the inability to stand still and the blurry vision were any indication, she was a little more than drunk. The guy and girl in front started making out on the dance floor, something Y/N almost looked at curiously.

Something she hadn’t gotten a chance of doing yet.

She was drunk, but her brain wracked. The kids here have so much more experience. They’d down alcohol like juice, kiss and dance like experts. The academy back in Australia was much more strict, she guessed.

Suddenly, Chunyang or Chaeyoung screamed something in her ear, which made Y/N flinch. It was something about throwing up, but she couldn’t quite grasp the details. She realized soon after that the group she had arrived with had dispersed throughout the nightclub. The couple that had been dancing and kissing intimately had moved to a different part of the floor, and the girl who had been dancing closely with Y/N had disappeared.

Squinting through the colored lights and the darkness of the dance floor, Y/N struggled to find any familiar faces. Eventually, she managed to squeeze her way off the dance floor and make her way to the bar. The bartender yelled something over the music, smiling as they handed her another birthday shot of whatever she had been downing all night.

Just as Y/N was about to bring the shot to her lips, another hand intercepted it, and he drank it without a word. Y/N watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed the drink, a silver chain glistened around his neck. Her eyes linger on the cross pendant hanging with a tinge of fascination. He almost slams the shot-glass down, bringing her back to reality.

A reality where he had drunk her birthday shot.

She frowned, her words slurred as she pointed at him.

Something along the lines of “why’d you drink my drink?”

He probably replied with “what are you gonna do about it?”

“You’ll pay for it.” She replied defiantly, brows furrowed in anger.

Y/N grabbed his collar firmly, pulling him close, their lips meeting in a sudden and unexpected kiss. In the haze of alcohol and emotions, she couldn’t recall the exact details of the kiss.

Did she perhaps lick his lips in a stupid attempt to reclaim her drink?

The thought made her cringe inwardly for weeks afterwards.

Or maybe it was a subconscious response to witnessing the couple on the dance floor earlier, a display of intimacy that had sparked something in her?

It was her first kiss, and her drunk mind thought kissing a stranger was a good idea!?

Another thought lingered, one that she still thought about from time to time.

Did he kiss her back?

Y/N woke up disoriented in the back of her car, immediately hit by the unpleasant sight and smell of vomit on one side of the seat. It made her gag involuntarily. Hastily fumbling with the door, she stumbled out, clutching her pounding skull in pain. Groaning loudly, she leaned against the car, trying to gather herself. The bright lights of The Rose hotel parking lot only made her headache worse.

Bits and pieces of the previous hours flashed through her mind, but the majority of it was a blur.

She was sure a designated driver service was called, dropping off what’s-her-face as well. But beyond that, the details were fuzzy. The irony of being at one of her family’s hotel did not escape her, but she was too busy staring mortified as she suddenly recalled something.

Embarrassment flooded over her as she tried to piece together the events, particularly the memory of kissing someone. Her fingers instinctively touched her lips, the sensation vivid against her fingertips. She blinked, wondering if she had truly been bold enough to act on impulse like that. Her heart beat rapidly.

A persistent thought in her mind whispered.

Call him.

Y/N didn’t even need to second guess her thoughts, she turned back to open the door, immediately backing away because of the vomit stench. She really had to do something about that. Clasping her nostrils with one hand, the other searched the back seat for her cellphone. Body half in, half out, she managed to fish it out from underneath the seat.

Her eyes hovered at his contact. It was 3:56 AM. She must be crazy. But the badgering thoughts in her mind made her heart beat faster at each passing second.

It rang, and she stood straight, foot tapping anxiously. By the sixth ring she was about to hang up, but the click on the other side made her freeze.

“Hello?”

His voice sounded groggy, as if he’d just woken him up.

“If you’re not gonna talk I’ll hang up.”

“No wait!” She shouted immediately.

“What do you want?” He muttered.

She bit her lip, nerves and a strange tingle of memory swirling within her.

“Did you come to the club?” She asked.

There was a pause on the other end, prolonging her anxiety.

“Do I look like the type of person to go drinking and dancing at a club?” He retorted.

She hated when he counter questioned her as a response, frustration bubbled within her.

“Hey! Did you show up or not?!” She snapped, her patience wearing thin.

“I didn’t.” He calmly responded.

Silence fell between them, Y/N sank back against her car, absorbing the revelation.

“Did I kiss you?” Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with uncertainty.

“You must’ve had a really wild night to call someone who wasn’t there at four in the morning to ask what happened.” He remarked dryly.

“Go back to sleep, jackass.” She shot back sharply, ending the call almost immediately.

Minho sat on the edge of his bed, still dressed in outside clothes, the cross necklace dangling around his neck.

He set his phone down on the nightstand and rubbed his face with both hands, letting out a weary sigh. Hearing Y/N’s voice had brought him a sense of relief, despite the chaotic night they both had.

She seemed oblivious to what had transpired, and Minho was grateful for that.

He didn’t want her to remember.

And he would continue to deny it. He didn’t want to get entangled with her, despite his unspoken desires. Minho didn’t want to be in a mess created by her.

But he always ended up in Y/N’s messes.

As he sat there in the dim of his bedroom, thoughts circled back to that fleeting moment under the colorful lights, one that he couldn’t easily shake off. Even if he decided he would deny it ever happening. He brought his fingers to his mouth, the phantom feeling of her warm lips against his left a tingling sensation.

Did she know he kissed her back?

───────────────────────

“I have absolutely no interest in her or what she thinks. Her desperation keeps me entertained, that’s all. She’s of no importance to me.” Minho’s words were cold.

Y/N stared at him, her hurt clearly visible. She had overheard his cruel words, which he had thought were shared in private, just between him and his mother.

The carelessness of his remark, her sudden appearance, and his fleeting remorse hung in the air.

Minho caught his mother’s glance from the corner of his eye and swiftly masked his regret, but Y/N saw the shift in his expression. His face hardening in the midst of the whirlwind of her emotions.

She looked at the older woman, who offered an awkward smile, clearly trying to pretend they hadn’t just been discussing her.

“Y/N, dear! What brings you here?” Minho’s mother greeted warmly, her arms outstretched in a practiced show of affection.

Y/N glanced between Minho and the suddenly quiet room, then focused on his mother.

“I was in the area and thought I’d share some news before you heard it from someone else.” She avoided Minho’s gaze, offering a polite smile to his mother instead.

“I’m going to New York for some time.”

Minho’s expression remained unreadable and Y/N didn’t care to decipher it this time.

His mother looked taken aback.

“Really? Why—I mean, so suddenly?”

Y/N smiled softly and touched the mother’s hand that rested on her shoulder.

“I just made the decision.” She attempted to keep her smiling composure.

His mother raised a brow.

“My father and I believe I need more exposure to learn how The Rose Enterprises work. I’m going to be in charge of it one day after all.” Y/N’s forced smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, masking the tears she had been holding back.

The older woman nodded in understanding, but the tension between Y/N and Minho was heavy. She looked back at Minho, who neither smiled nor frowned. His usual stoic demeanor made her roll her eyes, expecting nothing else. The mother turned back to the young lady close to her with a grin.

“Would you like to join me for lunch? It’s about time everyone steps out for their lunch break.” She glanced at her watch and then back at Y/N.

“You go ahead. I have a lot of preparations to make.” Y/N said, clearly intending to speak with Minho alone.

His mother nodded and, though she didn’t look back at Minho, she had caught on. She gave a final smile as she left, clearly amused by the situation.

The door closed behind her, and the room fell into a heavy silence. Minho and Y/N stood a few feet apart, but the distance between them felt far greater all of a sudden.

“I…” Y/N broke the silence, and Minho realized he had been holding his breath.

“I ran here to ask you something.” She said, meeting his gaze with a mixture of confusion and pain.

The forced smile she had worn earlier was gone, replaced by the hurt she had felt from his harsh words.

“My dad asked if I wanted to get married and take charge of his grand project, or go to New York and put his dream on hold.”

Minho’s expression hardened. He already knew what she had chosen.

“I thought, ‘Why marry some other jackass when I already have my eyes set on one?’” Y/N laughed bitterly at her delusions, struggling to hold back her tears.

“I’m not sure why I came here, really. I thought maybe you’d tell me not to go or you’d find some solution. You’ve always been good at that… But of course, I’ll never hear that from you. I forgot for a moment.” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, they began to fall freely.

Her words pierced him deeply, yet he struggled to find the right response, staring at her with an intensity he had never shown anyone before.

“I’m glad you were entertained, Lee Minho. I’m glad that I got to hear what you really thought of me.” Her face contorted.

“My father was right. You have clear goals, and I’m not one of them.”

“Y/N—” Minho began, his voice just a faltering whisper.

“I knew you didn’t like me clinging to you. I know my behavior makes you uncomfortable sometimes. I’m even aware that I can be overbearing—But I didn’t know you hated me.” She finally broke down in a sob.

Minho felt his face flush with heat and his throat tighten painfully as Y/N’s words cut through him. Before he could gather himself, Y/N continued with words that made him stare in shock.

“Maybe I should accept what my dad had proposed, maybe I’ll marry that stupid Kim Seungmin.” She declared, her tone resolute.

His figure stiffened at her proclamation, eyes glistening with shock.

“Or I can just go to New York, away from you. Either way, you can rejoice. You won’t have to worry about how you can avoid me.” She muttered, her mind coming to her own unknown conclusion, expression hardening.

Y/N took a deep breath, wiping the tears from her chin with the back of her hand.

“I’ll hate you like you hate me.” She spat bitterly, turning away to leave.

Minho’s hand instinctively reached out to stop her, but he hesitated, paralyzed by his own conflicting emotions.

Like a coward.

The door closes behind her with a soft click.

Outside, the desks of Minho’s team, now deserted for lunch, mocked Y/N with their vacancy. The absence of witnesses should have been a relief, shielding her from the embarrassment of leaving Minho’s office in tears. Yet, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of being so alone.

Her mind was in a frenzy, her walk to the elevator felt longer than it usually took, the silence of the halls was deafening.

How could she forget about Lee Minho?

It was a question that gnawed at her, as she struggled to comprehend when and how she had even fallen so deeply for him.

The realization cut deep.

Y/N couldn’t move on. Unable to fathom marrying anyone else while her heart still yearned for him.

Her eyes welled up again at the thought of Minho hating her. It was obvious yet she had always ignored it. She thought even if he didn’t like her like she did him, he would’ve at least gotten used to her constantly at his side.

So used to her, that he wouldn’t be able to see a life without her in his sights.

Pathetic.

The elevator’s ding shattered Y/N’s thoughts, abruptly pulling her back to the present moment. She looked up, hastily wiping away the traces of tears from her cheeks, suddenly aware that there might be others sharing the lift with her. But as the doors slid open to reveal an empty interior, a wave of emotion overwhelmed her.

Her lips quivered involuntarily, betraying the facade she struggled to maintain. There was no hiding her heartache now, no reason to pretend she was anything but defeated. With a heavy sigh, Y/N stepped inside the elevator, shoulders slumped with the weight of everything that just happened.

You’ll be happy right, Lee Minho?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

── ask to be tagged! - @minh0scat, @qwonyoung23

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