ULTRAVIOLENCE
SUMMARY: Ending your relationship on a sour note, you never expected your childhood best friend, Jimin, to enter back into your life. Least of all, as your roommate’s boyfriend. Determined to keep your distance, you try to keep him at an arm’s length. But your childhood best friend turned bully has a score to settle.
PAIRING: Jimin X Reader
WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, implied stalking, mean!Jimin, slight non-con, blackmailing behaviour, infidelity (not between the MCs), gun violence.
Word Count: 9k+
Note: Dedicated to my dear friend and patron m1n.ty, by whom this fic was originally commissioned and who has very kindly agreed to letting me post it!
PATREON
You met Park Jimin on a Tuesday afternoon when you were eight years old and still new enough to the school that every hallway felt unfamiliar.
The cafeteria was louder than anything you were used to. Voices were echoing off high ceilings, trays were clattering and children were shouting across tables as if silence was a crime punishable by death. You stood there for a moment longer than necessary with your tray in hand, scanning the room with the quiet desperation of someone hoping a seat might magically appear beside a friendly face.
Instead, a boy nearly collided with you.
He skidded to a halt just in time, sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. His cherubic face filled your field of vision, chubby hands grabbing at the air in front of him in an attempt to find his balance.
“Whoa,” he said, steadying the tray before it tipped out of your hands. “Careful.”
You blinked up at him.
He was small for his age but there was an artless sort of ease and innocence in the way he stood there. His hair was a soft sandy blond that curled slightly at the ends and his eyes held the kind of playful brightness that suggested trouble was never very far away.
“Sorry” you said. You felt kind of embarrassed standing here in front of this beautiful looking boy, streaked as your cheeks were with the tear tracks that had made their way down your face as your mom had dropped you off in front of your new school.
He glanced at your tray, then back at the cafeteria, then finally at you again.
“You’re new?”
You nodded. You hoped desperately that he would offer you a hand of friendship and you wouldnt have to stand here awkwardly anymore.
“I could tell. You’re standing there like you’re waiting for someone to adopt you.” He smiled at you mischievously.
You frowned.
“I’m looking for a seat.”
“Well you won’t find one just standing there.”
Before you could protest, he reached over, grabbed your wrist with casual familiarity and began weaving through the tables.
“Come on.”
You stumbled after him, startled but too curious to pull away.
“Where are we going?”
“My table. All my friends are there too” he said simply.
He stopped near the back of the cafeteria where a small group of kids were already halfway through their lunches. A boy with glasses looked up.
“Jimin, who is this?”
“New friend,” Jimin interrupted, nudging a chair out with his foot. “Scoot.”
The others shifted without argument and before you could question it further, you were seated among them. Jimin dropped into the chair beside you.
“I’m Jimin” he said, opening his milk carton. “What’s your name?”
You told him.
He grinned, stuffing his face with the mini choco chip cookies in front of him. At your continued stare, he forwarded the packet and nudged at you to take some.
You stared at the cookies.
“Are you bribing me?”
“Obviously.”
You picked one up.
“Why?”
Jimin shrugged easily.
“Because making friends is easier than being bored.”
That was the beginning.
From that day forward, Park Jimin inserted himself into your life with the natural ease of someone who had already decided he belonged there. He walked you to class as soon as you entered through the school gates. He shared his snacks with you when you forgot yours and stole your pencils when he was bored just to watch you get annoyed. When other kids tried to pick on you for being the new girl, Jimin stepped between you and them with a bright smile that somehow managed to be both charming and mildly threatening. You grew immensely fond of him, becoming his partner in crime whenever he went around teasing other classmates. The two of you were like two peas in a pod, with the same sense of humor, mannerisms, even your favorite games.
By the time you were ten, it felt impossible to imagine your school days without him.
You didn’t know anything about his family beyond the vague fact that his grandfather worked in politics. Jimin didn’t talk about it much and you didn’t care enough to ask. To you, he was just Jimin. The boy who climbed trees better than anyone else. The boy who laughed too loudly during quiet reading hour. The boy who always saved you a seat. If anyone had asked you then, you probably would have said he was your best friend. For a while, that was enough.
Until the adults found out.
It happened on your birthday. Your parents had allowed you to invite a few friends over for a small party at your house. It was something you had been excited about for weeks. When your mother asked who you wanted to invite, you rattled off names without much thought. Jimin’s had been the first.
You didn’t notice the way your father’s expression changed when you mentioned it.
“Y/N,” she said carefully “how long have you known this boy?”
You glanced up from your bed.
“Jimin? Since third grade.”
Your father stepped into the room behind her.
“Park Jimin?” he asked sharply.
You frowned.
“I guess? That’s his last name.”
Your mother exchanged a look with your father. Then he sighed heavily and rubbed his temple like you had just given him terrible news.
“You can’t see him anymore, kiddo” he said.
The words were so sudden that for a moment you thought you’d misheard.
“What? Why?”
“Y/N, we cannot be seen with any member from his family” your mother explained.
“But why, Mama?”
Your father didn’t bother softening it.
“His grandfather is Park Yeoncheol. You know that your Papa lost the last elections because of him. Your granddad would be very angry if he finds out that you’re friends with the Park boy.”
“Oh.”
Your mother stepped closer, kneeling in front of you.
“This isn’t your fault” she said gently. “But it’s better if you keep your distance from him.”
“He’s my friend.”
“Do you want Papa to be angry at you? He loves you so much. He would be so sad if he hears of this, love.”
You tried arguing after that. You tried explaining that none of this had anything to do with you or Jimin. Your parents didn’t care.
The next day at school, the words felt heavy in your throat.
Jimin found you by the lockers like he always did.
“Y/N! Have you thought about which cake you’re going to order for the party? You know I love black forest but I can also make do with butterscotch.” He grinned at you cheekily.
You hesitated.
His smile slowly faded when he saw your expression.
“What’s wrong?”
You swallowed.
“My parents found out who your grandfather is.”
Jimin frowned slightly.
“…Okay?”
“They don’t want me talking to you anymore.”
The confusion on his face lasted exactly three seconds before disbelief replaced it.
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“Why would that matter?”
“Because our families are rivals.”
He stared at you. “And?”
“And they said we can’t be friends.”
Jimin laughed not because it was funny but because the alternative was worse.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know.”
“So we should just ignore them.”
You shook your head helplessly.
“They’ll ground me.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then we’ll just keep hanging out at school.”
“They’ll find out.”
“They don’t have to.”
Your chest tightened.
“You’re not understanding.”
“No” Jimin said quietly, “I think I am.”
The shift in his voice made your stomach drop.
“You’re choosing them.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You’re doing exactly what they told you.”
“I’m ten!”
“And?”
“And I can’t just ignore my parents! I don’t want to make Papa sad” Your lips wobbled, eyes filling with tears at your situation.
For a moment neither of you spoke. Then Jimin looked away. When he looked back, the softness that usually lived in his expression was gone.
“Fine,” he said lightly.
The sudden indifference caught you off guard.
“Fine?”
“Yeah.”
You waited for him to argue more but he didn’t.
“You’re not even going to fight me on this?” you asked.
“What’s the point?”
“You just said it was stupid!”
“It is.”
“Then why are you acting like you don’t care?”
Something that looked very close to hurt flickered in his eyes. But it vanished quickly behind a careless smile.
“Because if you’re going to dump me that easily,” he said “we probably weren’t that good of friends anyway.”
The words hit harder than you expected. You eyes widened, two fat tears rolling down your cheeks.
“That’s not true.”
“Sure.”
“Jimin-”
“Don’t worry about it, Y/N”
You watched him walk away with a strange tightness in your chest, knowing you had lost that sweet boy, your sweet boy, forever. That was the moment everything changed.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At first, the change in Jimin wasn’t obvious. For the first few days after your parents forbade the friendship, he simply stopped approaching you. He no longer waited by your locker in the mornings or dragged you toward the cafeteria during lunch. When you passed him in the hallway, he didn’t speak, didn’t smile, didn’t even acknowledge your presence beyond a brief glance that slid away as quickly as it appeared.
It should have made things easier. Instead, it made everything feel strangely hollow. You had expected anger. Some kind of confrontation. Jimin had never been the quiet type and his sudden indifference felt more unsettling than a fight would have.
A week passed like that.
Then the comments started.
You were reaching into your locker one morning when Jimin leaned against the metal door beside it, a sneer pulling on his otherwise sweet face.
“Well, if it isn’t the girl who abandons her friends because her dad told her to.”
Your hand froze halfway to your backpack, shame and guilt clawing at your chest. You did realise what a bad friend you had been to him but your pride wouldn’t let you admit it in front of the entire school.
“I didn’t abandon you” you said stiffly.
He finally glanced at you, eyes bright with amusement.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I tried to explain.”
“Sure.” His mouth curved slightly. “You know, I told my grandfather about that.”
Your head snapped toward him.
“You did not.”
“I did.”
“And what did he say?”
Jimin shrugged.
“He thought it was funny.”
You stared at him in disbelief.
“That’s not funny.”
“No” he agreed lightly. “It’s pathetic.”
The insult stung more than you expected.
“You’re being rude, Jimin.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
He pushed himself upright, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
“Well” he said as he started walking away “at least I’m consistent.”
The encounters didn’t stop there. If anything, they became more frequent.
Jimin had always been mischievous but now his attention carried a sharper edge and without his support, you were unbearably alone.
When you raised your hand to answer a question in class, he would mutter something just loud enough for the surrounding students to hear.
“Careful, guys” he’d say. “She might cry if the answer’s wrong.”
When you joined a group game during gym, he would conveniently end up on the opposite team.
“You probably shouldn’t run” he told you once, blocking your path with an easy smile. “Wouldn’t want to hurt yourself. You know that you’re not very sporty.”
You shoved past him.
“Move.”
“Oh” he said brightly, “she bites now.”
You learned quickly that reacting only encouraged him.
But ignoring Jimin Park had always been difficult, even when he was infuriating. Especially then.
One afternoon during recess, you were sitting under the large oak tree near the edge of the field when a shadow fell across your book. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“What do you want?” you asked flatly.
Jimin crouched down in front of you, resting his elbows on his knees.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s new.”
He ignored the comment.
“If your parents are so worried about us being friends, maybe they’re right.”
You glanced up.
“What does that mean?”
“It means maybe you’re not worth the trouble.”
Your jaw tightened.
“Then why do you keep bothering me?”
Jimin tilted his head slightly, studying your face. The silence stretched long enough that you wondered if he was going to answer at all. Finally he smiled.
“Because it’s fun.”
The words were light but something about the way he said them made your chest feel tight.
“You’re cruel,” you said quietly.
“Aww”
Then he reached forward and tugged sharply on one of your pigtails. The sudden sting made you yelp, your face screwing up as you tried to push back the incoming tears.
Jimin laughed as he straightened.
“You should wear your hair down” he said. “This is too easy.”
“Just leave me alone.”
His smile lingered for a moment longer before fading into something unreadable.
“Maybe I will” he said.
But he didn’t. Because even when he mocked you or stole your pencils or made snide remarks loud enough for half the classroom to hear, Jimin never let anyone else do the same.
One boy had tried once. The result was a black eye and a week-long suspension for Jimin. When the teacher had asked what happened, he only shrugged. “Tripped” he had said.
You heard about it later from someone else. You didn’t thank him but the warmth in your heart that you had carried only for him, since you were eight, even when his childish cruelty made you sob quietly in the washroom stalls, only burned brighter.
You argued more than you spoke normally, sometimes the insults were sharp enough to draw blood. But there were also moments when the old Jimin slipped through. Like the day you forgot your lunch and found a familiar packet of cookies sitting quietly on your desk during class. Or the time you tripped on the stairs and he grabbed your arm before you could fall, only to immediately shove you away afterward and mutter something about clumsiness.
Neither of you acknowledged those moments.
Then, during the summer before eighth grade, your parents made another decision.
“You’re transferring schools next semester” your father announced casually.
You looked up from your plate.
“What?”
“A boarding school” your mother clarified gently. “It’s one of the best in the country.”
“But my school is fine.”
Your father exchanged a look with your mother.
“This will be better for your future.”
“You’re sending me away because of him” you realized.
Your father didn’t deny it.
“It removes unnecessary complications.”
Your chest tightened.
“That’s stupid.”
“Y/N-”
“I already stopped being friends with him!”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
Your father’s voice hardened slightly.
“The point is that you need to grow up and focus on your studies.”
You wanted to argue and to scream but deep down you knew the decision had already been made, like all the decisions before this.
And two weeks later, you packed your bags.
The last day before you left, you saw Jimin standing near the school gates after class. He leaned against the fence with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, looking like he had been there for a while. You almost walked past him.
“I’m leaving” you said.
Jimin didn’t move.
“Yeah” he replied quietly. “I heard.”
“Boarding school.”
“Sounds fancy. You must be happy.”
You sighed. No matter how much you might hope for it, the boy you thought was your best friend, your confidant, the boy whose eyes and innocent smile made your childish heart skip beats, just couldn’t be found anymore.
Finally you shifted awkwardly.
“Well then, goodbye.”
Jimin’s head lifted slightly as something flickered in his eyes.
“Goodbye?” he repeated.
You swallowed.
“What else am I supposed to say?”
He studied your face for a long moment. Then he laughed softly.
“You always were dramatic.”
The familiar mockery should have been comforting. Instead it felt hollow.
“I guess I’ll see you around” you said.
He didn’t reply. You hesitated. For a moment you almost apologized.
Then you remembered the months of teasing, the constant insults, the way he had made school feel like a battlefield. So you didn’t.
You turned and walked away instead, hoping against hope that he might stop you, or just wish you goodbye once so you could hold the hand of the only boy you had ever loved in your young life. But nothing like that happened. Jimin watched you go.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Boarding school forced you to rebuild your life faster than you would have liked. The first few months were awkward and lonely in the quiet, suffocating way that comes from realizing nobody around you knows who you used to be. No childhood routines. No familiar faces. Just long hallways, strict schedules and the constant expectation that you would adjust.
Eventually, you did. Mostly because of Kelly. She arrived halfway through your first semester with the sort of personality that refused to be ignored, friendly in a way that made resistance pointless. Within a week she had decided you were her person and within a month the rest of the dorm seemed to accept that the two of you operated as a unit.
Kelly talked enough for both of you. She filled silences easily, dragged you into social situations you normally would have avoided and somehow made the sterile atmosphere of the academy feel almost bearable. More importantly, she never asked about the strange gaps in your stories. When people reminisced about childhood friends or hometown memories, you simply changed the subject. It wasn’t difficult. The truth was that you had spent a long time deliberately not thinking about Jimin. At first, the anger had made that easy. Memories of his smirking face in the hallway or the relentless teasing during class had been enough to convince yourself that cutting him out of your life had been the right decision. You had repeated that logic often enough that eventually it started sounding believable. The crush you had harbored on him despite his cruel nagging started feeling stupid and hazy and anger took its place.
Time helped too. Three years was a long time when you were young. Long enough for old friendships to fade into something hazy and distant.
By the time you and Kelly graduated and moved to the city together for university, Park Jimin had become little more than an unpleasant chapter you rarely revisited.
Which was why you didn’t think twice when Kelly burst into your apartment one evening with a grin that practically split her face in half.
“You have to meet him” she announced, dropping her bag onto the couch.
You looked up from your laptop with mild suspicion.
“Meet who?”
“My boyfriend.”
You blinked.
“Since when do you have a boyfriend?”
“Since two months ago.”
“And you’re telling me now?”
Kelly flopped dramatically into the armchair across from you.
“Because I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a disaster first.”
You snorted.
“That’s optimistic. What’s so special about this one, then?”
“He’s different.”
“They always are.”
Kelly pointed a finger at you accusingly.
“You’re being negative.”
“I’m just being realistic.”
“You’ll like him, I’m sure.”
“That’s exactly what you said about the wannabe finance bro who tried to explain investment portfolios to us during brunch.”
Kelly waved the comment away impatiently.
“Jimin is not like that.”
The name barely registered at first. It was common enough that your brain didn’t immediately attach meaning to it.
“Oh?” you said absently. “What’s he like?”
Kelly leaned back with a dreamy smile.
“Kind of an asshole, honestly.”
You raised an eyebrow, a smile splitting your face.
“That’s a selling point?”
“But in a charming way” she insisted. “You know the type. Sarcastic, confident, a little mean but funny enough that you can’t really be mad about it.”
Something in your chest shifted faintly, though you couldn’t immediately explain why.
“And you like this man?” you asked.
“Unfortunately.”
You shook your head.
“You have terrible taste. It has been proven time and again.”
“He’s also ridiculously attractive.”
“Ah” you said as you snorted “Now we’re getting to the real reason.”
Kelly grabbed a pillow and threw it at you.
“Just come to dinner tonight.”
You caught the pillow and tossed it back.
“I already have plans.”
“With who?”
You hesitated.
“…Myself.”
“Cancel them. Please, for me.”
“I’m not cancelling my evening alone because you’re in love with a jerk.”
“You’re not cancelling” Kelly corrected. “You’re upgrading. Besides, you should go out a little. Socialize, talk to a few guys. How in the world would you ever get a boyfriend if you continue this? It’s not like men are queuing up around the block for a girl who never leaves home.”
You stared at her for a moment before sighing, a small twinge pinching your heart at the constant reminder of your perpetually single status. You knew Kelly didn’t mean it in an insulting way.
“Fine.”
She clapped excitedly.
“Great. We’re meeting him at that bar on Sixth.”
You closed your laptop.
“If he’s insufferable, I’m leaving early.”
“He’s not insufferable.”
You gave her a skeptical look.
“You literally described him as an asshole.”
“A charismatic asshole.”
“That’s worse.”
Kelly just laughed.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bar was loud in the comfortable way that came with a busy Friday night, music humming through the walls, conversation spilling over from crowded tables, the soft clink of glasses behind the counter.
You spotted Kelly immediately.
She was already sitting in a booth near the back, waving enthusiastically when she saw you. And someone else was sitting across from her. For a moment you only noticed the posture first. Relaxed and leaning back slightly in the booth like the entire room was his.
Then he turned his head.
Shaggy blonde hair fell loosely across his forehead, longer than it had been when you were children. The cut was deliberately careless, giving him a slightly rebellious edge that matched the dark jacket slung over the back of his chair. As he turned, the sharp line of his jaw, contrasted by the plump shape of his lips that were pulled into a knowing smile made your face heat up and your heart pump erratically in your chest. And his eyes. Oh, those pools of obsidian, so predator- like in their feline shape. Cruel in the exact same way you remembered.
Park Jimin’s eyes met yours across the bar. He didn’t look surprised. If anything, he looked entertained.
Kelly stood up eagerly. “There you are!”
Your feet carried you forward automatically, though every instinct in your body screamed that something had just gone very, very wrong.
“Y/N,” Kelly said brightly, “this is my boyfriend.”
Jimin’s gaze never left your face. His smile widened slowly, like someone savoring a private joke.
“Jimin,” Kelly finished happily.
You stared at him.
He looked older, obviously, with a sharper jawline, broader shoulders, confidence worn like a second skin but the essence of him was exactly the same. Dangerously self-assured.
Jimin tilted his head slightly as you approached the table and sat down on the furthest possible chair from him to avoid his penetrating gaze.
“Well” he said smoothly.
His voice had deepened over the years but the tone was unmistakable.
“That’s a familiar face.”
Kelly glanced between you both.
“You two know each other?”
You opened your mouth.
Before you could answer, Jimin spoke first.
“Oh, we go way back.”
Something about the way he said it made your stomach tighten. Meanwhile, Kelly looked delighted.
“Seriously? That’s crazy.”
Jimin’s eyes flicked over you slowly, deliberately after giving Kelly a smirk.
“You’ve changed, Y/N” he said.
You folded your arms.
“You haven’t.”
His grin sharpened, almost baring his teeth as his eyes flicked over your face cruelly as if cataloguing for the faults in your visage.
Kelly laughed nervously.
“Okay, I feel like I’m missing context.”
Jimin leaned his elbow on the table, still watching you with unsettling focus.
“We were childhood friends,” he explained lightly.
You let out a short, humorless laugh.
“That’s one way to describe it.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Not the way you’d choose?”
“I’d say something closer to ‘childhood menace.’”
Kelly looked between you both with growing fascination.
“Oh my god,” she said. “You two hate each other.”
Jimin’s gaze didn’t waver.
“Hate is a strong word.”
You met his eyes coolly.
“Not strong enough.”
For a moment the tension between you was almost tangible. Then Jimin leaned back in the booth with a quiet chuckle, his dark blue shirt pulling at his chest, affording you a view of the lean muscles of his chest. You gulped as your eyes flickered away.
“Well,” he said casually, “this should make things interesting.”
Dinner that night should have been uncomfortable. Instead, it became something worse. Jimin had always been the kind of person who thrived in chaos and the moment he realized exactly how awkward the situation was, he settled into it with the easy confidence of someone who had just been handed an extremely entertaining toy.
Kelly, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents running between the two of you, spent the first ten minutes enthusiastically filling the silence.
“So you guys went to school together?” she asked, glancing between you.
Jimin rested his chin lightly on his hand, his gaze still fixed on you with unsettling patience.
“Something like that.”
You picked up your drink, deliberately avoiding his eyes.
“We survived the same building, at least I did. Jimin here was too busy trying to make sure that I didn’t.” you corrected.
Kelly laughed.
“That sounds dramatic.”
Jimin’s smile tilted.
“She’s always been dramatic. Trying to make everything bigger than it really is. I don’t remember any such antagonistic feelings between us. Maybe my memory of you is just hazy, Y/N.”
You scoffed quietly as he tried to deliberately downplay your relationship, smirking at you cheekily.
“You used to pull girls’ hair and call them dramatic when they got mad.”
Kelly looked delighted.
“Oh my god, really?”
“Constantly” you said, taking a sip of the drink that had already been ordered before you had arrived. It was your favorite. Kelly remembered that for once.
Jimin didn’t look remotely embarrassed.
“I was ten.”
“You were annoying.”
“And you were easy to annoy. Always so stuck up and allergic to fun. Has she become any better?” He laughed, putting an arm behind Kelly’s chair as he peered at her, egging Kelly on in an attempt to humiliate you. Kelly merely let out an uncomfortable snort.
Dinner continued like that for a while.
Kelly talked. You responded politely. Jimin watched.
It became increasingly difficult not to notice the way his attention kept drifting back to you. The subtle, almost lazy glances that lingered just a second longer than necessary.
When Kelly reached for his hand across the table, he allowed it without hesitation. But his gaze never left your face. You felt it every time.
By the end of the meal, your patience was wearing dangerously thin.
“So,” Kelly said cheerfully as the waiter cleared the plates and accepted Jimin’s card that he so graciously forwarded before the two of you could say anything, “we should all hang out sometime. The three of us.”
You immediately shook your head, “I’m busy.”
Jimin chuckled softly.
“You didn’t even ask when.”
“I don’t need to.”
Kelly rolled her eyes.
“You’re being rude.”
“I’m being honest. I need to work hard this semester if I want to land an internship.”
Jimin leaned back in his chair, crossing one ankle over his knee.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I missed this.”
You looked at him sharply.
“Missed what?”
“This charming personality of yours.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not for you.”
“Really?” he asked mildly, an eyebrow hitching.
Something about the question made your stomach tighten. Kelly sighed.
“You two are exhausting.”
“Then stop inviting him places” you suggested.
Jimin’s smile widened slowly.
“Good luck with that.”
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unfortunately, he was right. Over the next few weeks, Park Jimin began appearing in your life with irritating consistency.
It started innocently enough.
Kelly inviting you both to brunch. A movie night. Drinks after class. At first, you assumed it was a coincidence.
Then you started noticing patterns. If Kelly suggested meeting somewhere, Jimin would already know the place. If you mentioned plans in passing, somehow he ended up nearby. Even when the two of you, Kelly and you, would make plans to hang out sans Jimin, he would inevitably show up to annoy you.
Once would have been chance.
Three times felt suspicious.
By the fifth time, it felt deliberate.
You were leaving the campus library late one evening when you spotted him leaning against the hood of a black sports car parked across the street.
Your steps slowed.
Jimin glanced up as if he had been expecting you. His mouth curved into a familiar smirk.
“Well,” he said as you approached, “look who it is.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“Why are you here?”
“Kelly mentioned you were studying.”
“That was four hours ago.”
He shrugged.
“I had time.”
Something about that answer made irritation spark immediately.
“You waited four hours?”
“Don’t sound so flattered.”
“I’m not flattered. I’m confused.”
Jimin pushed himself off the hood of his car, hands sliding casually into the pockets of his tailored charcoal pants.
“Kelly wanted to grab dinner together.”
“She could have texted me.”
“She did.”
You checked your phone. There was a message you hadn’t seen. You looked back up at him suspiciously.
“You still didn’t need to wait.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“You’re being weird, you know that right?”
“I’ve been told.”
You stared at him for a moment longer.
“Where’s Kelly?”
“Running late.”
“So it’s just us?”
“For now.”
You exhaled slowly.
“Fantastic.”
Jimin studied your expression with quiet amusement.
“You’re still holding a grudge.”
“You were insufferable for two years.”
“You deserved most of it.”
Your jaw tightened and you looked away from his face. The street lights casted a yellow so pale on his face that his skin looked almost luminescent, eyes glowing as they dug into yours.
There was a brief pause. Then he tilted his head slightly.
“You cut your hair.”
You blinked.
“…What?”
“It used to be longer.”
The comment caught you off guard.
“How would you know that?”
Jimin shrugged lightly.
“I notice things.”
The answer felt oddly vague but before you could press further, Kelly’s voice called from across the street.
“Sorry! Traffic was awful!”
She hurried toward you both, slightly out of breath.
Jimin stepped back easily as she reached them. You realised how close the two of you had been standing, him with one of his hands on his car and the other inside his pocket as he bent towards you, your faces close together. Your heart was thundering.
“Miss us?” he asked.
“Obviously” she replied, slipping her arm through his.
The movement should have looked natural instead it felt strangely performative. He glanced at you briefly. Just long enough for you to see the quiet amusement in his eyes.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over time, the pattern became undeniable.
Jimin didn’t just tolerate your presence. He seemed to seek it out. If Kelly invited you somewhere, he made sure he came along. If you declined plans, he conveniently had some work come up. In front of your eyes, Jimin would be unbearably touchy, constantly putting his arm around Kelly’s shoulders and caressing her face. It was irritating but you bore it for your friend’s sake. However, stranger still was your friend’s confession that Jimin had yet to kiss her. When you asked what was stopping him, Kelly looked uncharacteristically abashed and murmured that he was old fashioned and wanted to wait. It was a strange contrast. Nevertheless, this PDA in front of you (sans the kissing), never stopped.
Sometimes he provoked you directly. Other times he simply observed. It was subtle enough that Kelly never noticed but you did.
One evening during drinks, Kelly excused herself to take a phone call outside, leaving the two of you alone at the table.
You didn’t bother pretending politeness.
“Alright,” you said flatly.
Jimin lifted an eyebrow, his hand coming up to gently caress his lower lip, the silver ring on his thumb and the watch on his wrist catching the strobing lights.
“Alright what?”
“What are you doing?”
“Drinking.”
“You know what I mean.”
His lips curved faintly.
“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
“You hate me.”
“That’s a strong word.”
“You bullied me for two years.”
“And you abandoned me first.”
“That was years ago.”
“Time flies.”
You leaned forward slightly.
“Then why are you constantly around me now? And what are you doing with Kelly? ”
Jimin studied you quietly for a moment. There was something unsettling about the calm focus in his eyes. Finally he smiled.
“You give me something to do.”
He ignored the latter part of your question completely. Your expression darkened.
“That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
Kelly returned before you could respond.
The conversation ended there but the tension didn’t because deep down, a quiet suspicion had begun forming in the back of your mind. Jimin’s behavior wasn’t just annoying. It was intentional.
And the way he watched you sometimes, too attentive, too patient, felt less like coincidence and more like someone slowly tightening invisible strings. You just hadn’t figured out why yet.
Jimin, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to let the game continue. And judging by the faint, cruel satisfaction in his smile whenever you snapped at him he was enjoying every second of it.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The club had been Kelly’s idea. Your semester exams were finally over and the reprieve from the academic pressure made you give in to her demand, even knowing your nemesis would surely be coming along.
It was loud in the kind of deliberate way that made conversation difficult and bad decisions easier. Music pulsed through the walls and floor alike, bass vibrating through your ribs as people crowded the dance floor beneath flashing lights.
You normally avoided places like this but tonight you had made an exception.
Kelly was already halfway through her second drink when she leaned across the table with a grin.
“I swear,” she said over the music, “you’ve been in a bad mood for weeks. We’re fixing that tonight.”
“I’m not in a bad mood” you replied.
She gave you a look that suggested she didn’t believe you for a second.
“Really? Because you’ve been snapping at everyone lately. Especially Jimin.”
At the mention of his name, your gaze shifted automatically across the room. He was standing near the bar with one hand resting casually on the counter, talking to someone you didn’t recognize. Even from a distance he looked completely at ease with his dark leather jacket pushed back slightly, shaggy blonde hair falling over his eyes as he leaned in to hear his companion.
As if sensing your attention, Jimin glanced up and your eyes met across the crowded room.
For a brief moment the noise seemed to fade behind the weight of his stare. Then his mouth curved into that familiar, infuriating smile. You looked away immediately. Kelly followed your gaze.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I think you two secretly enjoy hating each other.”
“That sentence doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does if you’ve watched the way you argue.”
“We don’t argue.”
“You absolutely do. Like two siblings constantly at each other’s throats.”
You picked up your drink, an unknown guilt suffusing your chest at her words.
“He antagonizes me, that’s all.”
Kelly laughed.
“And you antagonize him right back.”
“Because he deserves it. Prick.”
Kelly leaned back in her chair, sighing.
“You’re both exhausting.”
You took a sip of your drink, trying to ignore the lingering awareness of Jimin somewhere behind you.
It didn’t help. Because even without looking, you could feel his attention like a physical weight.
After another few minutes, Kelly’s phone buzzed. She glanced down and groaned. Her journalism internship demanded all sorts of odd hours.
“Ugh. I have to take this.”
“Work?”
“Unfortunately.”
She stood, already heading toward the quieter hallway near the bathrooms.
“Don’t disappear on me” she warned.
“I won’t.”
The moment she left, the table felt strangely emptier.
You waited a few seconds before standing. Sitting alone felt awkward and the music was loud enough that dancing seemed like the easier distraction. The dance floor was crowded but energetic, bodies moving under shifting lights as the DJ changed songs.
You pushed your way into the center, letting the music drown out your thoughts. For a few minutes, it worked. Then someone tapped your shoulder.
You turned to see a tall guy with dark hair and a friendly smile.
“Hey,” he said, raising his voice slightly over the music. “You looked like you were dancing alone.”
“I was, yeah.”
“Mind if I fix that?”
You considered it briefly, your intoxicated brain considering the prospect. Then shrugged.
“Sure.”
He introduced himself though the name disappeared almost immediately under the music and you both moved with the rhythm of the crowd. It was harmless. The kind of meaningless interaction that usually faded from memory by morning. As his eyes lightly fell on your hips, you sashayed to the beat.
You didn’t notice Jimin until it was too late.
He had been watching from the edge of the floor for several minutes.
At first he simply observed. The way the stranger’s hand settled lightly on your waist. The way you laughed at something he said. The easy closeness of two people sharing a moment that had nothing to do with him.
Jimin’s expression remained calm but the longer he watched, the tighter his jaw became. Something dark and sharp twisted slowly in his chest. It wasn’t jealousy in the usual sense. It was something far more possessive, something that had been simmering quietly for years, something that was made crueler and darker by your callous abandonment of him, twice.
By the time the stranger’s hand slid slightly lower on your waist, Jimin had already made his decision.
He stepped onto the dance floor. The crowd shifted instinctively as he pushed through, his gaze locked firmly on the two of you. You didn’t notice him until a hand closed firmly around the stranger’s shoulder. The man turned, confused.
“Hey-”
The crack of the gunshot cut through the music like lightning. For a moment nobody moved. The sound echoed through the club as the bullet struck the ceiling above the dance floor, plaster raining down onto startled bodies below. Screams followed immediately after and music stopped abruptly. People began pushing toward the exits in sudden panic.
You stood frozen as Jimin lowered the handgun casually back to his side.
His eyes were burning, chest heaving as he ground down his teeth.
The stranger beside you stared in shock.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.
Jimin didn’t answer. Instead he reached for the bottle sitting on a nearby table. The movement was so quick the man barely had time to react. Glass shattered against the side of his head with a brutal crack. The stranger collapsed instantly.
You stumbled back, heart hammering. The haze of vodka was finally clearing though not fast enough for you to run away from him like a bat out of hell.
“Jimin, what the hell are you doing?”
His gaze snapped toward you and the fury there was terrifying.
“What am I doing?” he repeated quietly, his eyes burning into yours.
“You just assaulted someone!”
Jimin stepped closer, the broken bottle still clutched loosely in his hand.
“You let him touch you.”
Your disbelief flared into anger.
“Excuse me?”
His voice dropped dangerously low.
“I was watching him all night. The way he kept looking at you. The way he thought he could just walk up and put his hands on you like that.”
“You’re insane.”
“Am I?”
“Yes!”
People were still scrambling toward the exits around you, the chaos building with every second. Jimin didn’t seem to notice. His entire focus was fixed on you.
“You think I’m insane,” he said slowly, “but you were the one standing there smiling while some stranger felt you up in the middle of a club.”
“He was dancing with me!”
“And that makes it acceptable?”
“It’s none of your business!”
Jimin laughed sharply.
“You really believe that?”
“Yes!”
The tension between you snapped.
“You’re dating my best friend!” you shouted.
His smile was cold. “That’s interesting.”
You stared at him.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Jimin stepped closer again.
“You know what I find funny?” he said softly. “The fact that after all these years, you still act like you don’t understand the situation.”
“What situation?”
“This one.”
He gestured lazily between the two of you.
Your anger sharpened.
“You pulled a gun in a crowded club because I danced with someone.”
“You let him touch you.”
“You’re not my boyfriend! In fact, you are not even my friend. You are nobody to me. You don’t get to decide anything for me!”
Jimin’s expression darkened further.
“No,” he said slowly. “But that doesn’t mean you belong to anyone else.”
The possessiveness in his tone sent a chill down your spine.
“You’ve lost your mind. You really have.” You said, finally moving away from him as the gravity of the situation sunk in. His gaze followed you like a hunter carefully tracking a prey animal.
“Maybe.”
Your patience finally snapped.
“Listen carefully, Jimin, because I’m only going to say this once.”
You stepped closer, your voice dropping to a dangerously calm level.
“You don’t get to control me. Not now. Not ever. Whatever weird obsession you’ve built up in your head does not give you the right to dictate who I talk to or who I dance with.”
For a brief moment, something like amusement flickered in his eyes.
“You think this is about control?”
“What else would it be?”
Jimin leaned down slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear it.
“It’s about the fact that you’ve been walking around for weeks pretending you don’t notice what’s happening.”
Your stomach tightened. “I notice that you’re an asshole.”
He chuckled quietly.
“You’ve always been good at avoiding the obvious.”
“And what exactly is ‘the obvious’?”
His eyes searched your face with unsettling intensity.
“The obvious,” he murmured, “is that I’ve spent years making sure you never forget I exist.”
Before you could respond, the distant wail of sirens cut through the chaos. Jimin glanced toward the entrance. Then he smiled again.
“Perfect timing.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“What did you do?”
He looked back at you.
“I called the police.”
For a moment you simply stared at him.
“You shot a gun in a club… and then called the police on yourself?”
“Not exactly.”
Understanding dawned slowly.
“You reported the club.”
“Anonymous tip” he confirmed casually.
You felt vaguely nauseous at the chaos that had inundated your life and opened your mouth to say somehting.
“Relax,” he interrupted. “They’ll shut the place down for the night. No big deal.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
The sound of approaching police cars grew louder outside. Jimin grabbed your wrist.
“Come on.”
You jerked your arm back.
“Don’t touch me.”
“You can stay if you want,” he said calmly. “But when the police start asking questions about who fired the gun, things might get complicated.”
Your stomach dropped. “You wouldn’t.”
His expression was almost innocent. “Wouldn’t what?”
“You’d drag my family into this?”
Jimin’s smile returned slowly.
“Your father’s entire campaign revolves around public image. Imagine how interesting the headlines would be if his daughter got caught up in a nightclub shooting. And, remind me again, where is the petty princess who would dump anyone to be in her family’s good graces?” He looked around theatrically before grabbing your arm and pulling you close to his chest as he exclaimed, “There she is!”
Your pulse spiked. “You’re a psychopath.”
You only got a cruel smile in return before he began dragging you towards the exit, his hand clutching your arm in a vice grip. Throwing you inside his car with a cruel carelessness, he shut the door with a bang. The engine roared to life.
As the police flooded into the club behind you, Jimin sped into the night. The city lights blurred past in streaks of neon and shadow as the car tore through empty streets. He didn’t slow down until you were miles away.
When he finally stopped in an empty overlook above the city, you shoved yourself out of the car immediately.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded.
Jimin moved out to stand in front of you calmly. “You’re welcome.”
“For what? Are you serious?”
“For getting you out of there before things got messy.”
“You caused the mess!”
“Yes,” he agreed easily. The casual admission made your blood boil.
“You assaulted someone, fired a gun in public, blackmailed me, and now you’re acting like you did me a favor.”
Jimin stepped closer. “You’re missing the important part.”
“And what part is that?” You seethed.
His gaze darkened. “You were dancing with someone else.”
You stared at him in disbelief.
“Shut up! That’s your takeaway from this entire situation?”
“It’s the only part that mattered.”
Your temper finally exploded.
“You don’t get to decide what matters in my life! You’re nobody to me, understand? You were dead to me the moment I left you in the dust back then!”
Jimin grabbed your face suddenly and kissed you. The force of it knocked the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle. It was rough, demanding, almost violent in its intensity. One of his hands held your jaw in a tight, bruising grip as the other held your hands beneath your back. The force of his mouth against yours pushed you back two steps and you stumbled as you felt the hood of his car behind you.
Growling against your mouth, his chest knocked you backwards, forcing you to collapse onto the hood. You lay under him, your lips being punished by his as he sucked at your mouth, nibbled at your bottom lip and tried to gain entry into your mouth. A particularly hard nibble at your top lip forced your lips open as you tried to gasp for breath before he pushed his tongue inside your mouth, the lack of breath and the shock of his warm tongue ticking all over the inside of the warm cavern of your mouth, made you lightheaded. As he tried to pull your tongue into his wet mouth to suck it between his lips, a soft wail left you. He shuddered in response, his chest heaving as he moaned at your taste. His hand, which had been holding two of yours in a strong hold, left to run up your sides.
Shock froze you for half a second. Then your hand cracked sharply across his face. The sound echoed in the quiet night.
Jimin’s head turned slightly with the impact. Slowly, he looked back at you. Instead of anger, a strange satisfaction flickered in his eyes.
“You always did hit hard,” he murmured.
Your voice shook with fury. “You’re insane if you think that was acceptable.”
“I could get a psych evaluation, if you’d like.”
“And Kelly-” Your voice wobbled. He stared at the tears running down your face, his eyes softening at the guilt coating your voice.
“Kelly and I are done, princess.”
The words stopped you cold. “What?”
“I broke up with her.”
“When?”
“Just now.”
You stared at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
Jimin shrugged lightly, “She served her purpose.”
The casual cruelty in his tone made your stomach twist.
“You used her.”
“I needed a way back into your life.”
Your anger faltered briefly.
“What are you talking about?”
Jimin stepped closer again, his expression dark and unwavering.
“You think it’s a coincidence that I started dating your best friend?”
Realization crept slowly up your spine.
“That’s… that’s insane.”
“Is it?”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m really not.”
He leaned down slightly, his voice quiet but deadly certain.
“You left me, Y/N. Not once, twice. Do you have any idea what I felt back then? How I felt when the girl who was the center of my universe left me to start her life over without me? You’re so cruel, you have always been. And I am the fucking idiot who cannot get over you. Your name is threaded into my heart, it runs in my blood. No fucking power on Earth can take you away from me again, not your family and certainly not you. You don’t get to leave me again, you dont!” He shouted, shaking slightly as his manic eyes bored into yours.
“I spent years making sure the next time you walked back into my life, you wouldn’t be able to leave again.”
Your pulse pounded in your ears.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Jimin smiled, his eyes wild.
“Oh,” he said softly.
“I think I do.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A week after the club incident, Park Jimin walked into your family home like he had always belonged there.
At that exact moment, you were upstairs in your bedroom, attempting to focus on a stack of notes that had remained untouched for the last twenty minutes. Your concentration had been terrible lately. Not surprising, considering the chaos of the previous week.
Kelly still hadn’t spoken to you properly. Guilt gnawed at you every time your friend declined your call and the feeling of shame held you in even deeper grip when you unconsciously found yourself caressing your lips as you thought about the bruising kiss. News outlets were buzzing about Park Yeoncheol’s sudden retirement and the equally sudden rise of his grandson as the party’s new face. Your father had spent several evenings in tense phone calls with advisors, strategists and donors.
Politics never slowed down in this house but today felt different. You heard the staff downstairs making a lot more noise than usual. The quiet but urgent shift in tone that always happened when an important guest arrived. Doors opening. Polite greetings. The sound of shoes against marble flooring in the main hall.
Then your father’s voice.
“Park Jimin.”
Your head lifted. For a moment you wondered if you had imagined it. But then you heard Jimin’s voice respond. Smooth, calm, unmistakably familiar as ever.
“Mr L/N.”
Your stomach dropped. You stood slowly, every instinct in your body suddenly alert. Curiosity got the better of you. The staircase overlooked the main sitting room below, separated only by a carved wooden railing that allowed sound to carry easily through the open space.
You moved quietly to the edge. Your father stood near the fireplace, posture formal but not unfriendly. And across from him was the man you had spent the last week thinking about, Jimin.
He looked completely comfortable standing in the middle of the home belonging to the man whose political career had spent decades opposing his own family.
“Your grandfather’s retirement came as a surprise” your father was saying.
Jimin inclined his head slightly.
“He believed the party needed someone younger to lead the next election cycle.”
“And that someone is you.”
“For now.”
There was a faint humility in the answer but you recognized it immediately for what it was. A performance. You scoffed.
Your father studied him carefully.
“You understand the history between our families.”
“Of course.”
“And yet you requested this meeting.”
Jimin’s hands rested loosely on top of his knees, posture casual despite the weight of the conversation.
“History doesn’t have to dictate the future.”
Then he said quietly, “You’re suggesting cooperation.”
“An alliance.”
Your eyebrows lifted slightly. That word carried serious implications.
“Why?” your father asked.
Jimin smiled faintly.
“Because the alternative is continuing a political feud that wastes resources on both sides.”
“And you think my supporters would accept that?”
“With the right reasoning.”
Your father crossed his arms. “And what reasoning would that be?”
Jimin’s gaze flicked briefly toward the staircase. For a split second, you thought he had noticed you. But then his attention returned to your father.
“Mutual benefit,” he said calmly.
The conversation continued for another several minutes with talks of strategy, elections, voter blocs. Jimin spoke like someone who had been preparing for this conversation long before it ever happened. He wasn’t nervous or even particularly cautious.
Your father wasn’t dismissing him. If anything, he seemed… interested and was nodding along to many suggestions while making his own opinions known.
Finally your father sighed.
“You’re ambitious but that’s a good thing. I like it in young people such as yourself.”
Jimin chuckled softly.
Then your father said thoughtfully, “Political alliances are easier when families are connected.”
Your stomach tightened.
Jimin didn’t hesitate. “I agree.”
Something about the tone of that answer made your pulse jump.
Your father nodded slowly.
The meeting ended not long after that. Your father walked him toward the front door while continuing the conversation about scheduling future discussions.
You slipped away from the railing before either of them could notice you. But you didn’t go far. Instead you waited in the long hallway that connected the main entrance to the garden doors. You heard footsteps approaching. Then Jimin appeared around the corner.
He stopped the moment he saw you. For a second neither of you spoke.
Then his mouth curved slowly, “Look who’s eavesdropping.”
You crossed your arms.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here.”
Jimin didn’t look remotely bothered.
“It was a scheduled meeting.”
“You’re trying to manipulate my father.”
“I’m negotiating. It’s the nature of politics.”
“That’s not the same thing at all and you know it.”
He stepped closer.
“It is in politics.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“So that’s the plan?”
“What plan?”
“You insert yourself into my family’s political strategy and suddenly we’re all supposed to pretend the last twenty years didn’t happen?”
Jimin tilted his head slightly.
“Relax. I’m not here to destroy anything.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Jimin stepped closer again.
“You heard the conversation.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And you’re trying to trap my father into a political alliance.”
He smiled slightly.
“Not just your father.”
“You’re insane if you think I’m going along with that.”
Jimin’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes.
“I don’t need you to go along with it.”
“Then what exactly do you need?”
His voice lowered slightly.
“You. Always have and always will.”
Your pulse jumped. Jimin stepped into your space suddenly. In retaliation, you grabbed the front of his suit jacket and pulled him down into a kiss. It was just as angry as the one the week before. You poured weeks of frustration and tension into his mouth. Jimin’s hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you there as the kiss deepened into something rougher.
When you finally shoved him back, both of you were breathing harder.
“You’re still a manipulative bastard,” you said.
Jimin wiped his lip slowly, eyes dark with quiet satisfaction.
“And you’re still terrible at pretending you hate me.”
