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eureka-its-zico · 1 year

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Winterfall

Synopsis: When you thought of your life, Glenview Psychiatric Hospital was the last place you thought you’d end up. What could be weirder than calling a place like this home? Finding people who remind you that, sometimes, the messiest parts of who we are can be the best parts of us too.

Pairings: Christian Yu x Reader x Jay B x Reader (It’s a love triangle, y’all)

Series: ongoing

Word Count: 5186

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, mental health issues, mental disorders, slight violence, sexual themes

A/N: This is a hard one to post. I’ve had this in my WIPs for over seven years. I’ve rewritten it multiple times. Consider if this was a series, I was willing to share. As someone who suffers from BPD II and PTSD, it felt strange to dive into mental health. In a way, I felt like I needed a safe place to get it out. To share. This fic isn’t meant to be sad. It’s meant to be about growth. The journey of mental health can be a messy one, but it doesn’t have to hinder our own growth. Our sadness does not define us. If I ever miss anything in the warnings for chapters, please let me know and I’ll fix it ASAP! This fic is loosely based off of one of my favorite films, Girl, Interrupted. And remember, if you you ever need to talk: Im here.

Shout out to my bestie @deadneverlander for always being the better half in our clownery. I wouldn't be able to do half of this without you.

There was something about the bleakness of winter that seemed to make countless people’s bones ache for the warmth of summer. Their loneliness is somehow made more apparent by rain clouds and negative degrees, turning thoughts into reminiscent scenes of a doomsday film.

You’d always claimed that fall was your favorite season because the vast spectrum of your sadness didn't match the heat of summer. Sure, you loved the possibilities of hot cocoa, warm fires, ridiculous horror, Christmas films, and the first sight of snow. Somewhere along the way, however, came the anxiety of holiday dinners. Where the comfort you’d found in overcast skies turned sinister with repeated looks that reminded you that you were the black sheep; the odd man out with another year of nothing to show.

Fall no longer meant binges on shows and breaks from the endless routine that was work and school. It meant laying in the snow until your body heat forced it to melt underneath you, seeping into the fabric of your clothes to leave your nerves numb and transparent like ice. Your mind silently hoped it would be enough to extinguish the agony that blossomed in your chest.

Jackets were no longer marked for warmth, but strictly to hide your struggle to feel anything past the chasm that’d grown in the past couple of months: to bleed out the parts of you that didn't belong. It wasn't a surprise it's what landed you a one-way ticket to the cozy room inside a psychiatric hospital. Maybe that's just what happens when you're found unresponsive with a belly housing a fifth of rum. The marks on your skin lay like a map to follow on how you got there; only being found like a frantic afterthought.

Glenview Psychiatric Hospital, or GSH that was strategically labeled in bright crimson above the pocket of your prison-inspired sweatshirt, had been home for three months now. It was meant to be a place of healing, among the basic mood stabilizing and therapy sessions everyone held in a day. You felt further away from that concept with every group activity the doctors forced you to take part in. Your social anxiety becoming apparent each time it lands on you to speak, either to close the circle, or to be a part of the ridiculous game activities. The last time you played volleyball your face saw more action with the pleather ball than your arms ever did.

It was currently 12:47 p.m. The clock giving you a false sense of hope that the time wouldn’t just creep by to leave you stranded the last thirteen minutes until you’d earned your freedom. There was, however, the off chance if Dr. Thompson wasn't hearing what he wanted; the hour-long group activity would be extended.

You scanned the other six faces that made up your group: the huddled mess of piled sweaters and huddled blanket of Soomi a fleeting moment of comfort. It only took your eyes adjusting on her figure to know she didn’t have one. Her tiny body composed of thick layers of clothes to portray a false sense of shape. Her anorexia becoming so severe her family had no other option but to put her here, or watch her die. Jason’s endless finger taps on every surface he could touch the only giveaway to his OCD until he removed himself from his chair. Sejun with his alcoholism and Yuna with her acidic imagination that the wind whispered her deepest secrets out into the world.

All this ending with your gaze narrowed on the statuesque figure of Jaebum who comically sat opposite of your current position. The two suicidal inmates that shared in the anxiousness of sadness but little else, and the usual reason why your group never seemed to end on time.

You couldn't say it was a shame to be stuck sitting dead center of someone so attractive; as shallow of an observation as it was there was no denying how ungodly true that statement was. He held a silent attractiveness that resonated in the solitude he kept around himself, and Jaebum was indeed a solitary creature.

He preferred books over people. Usually moving away from anyone who got close to his latest reading perch without ever glancing up from his current book. Jaebum’s favorite place he’d reserved to get lost inside his fiction the seal of the window that looked out the expanse of the institute’s backyard. The entire estate currently covered in the dead burgundy and gold of a forest of oak tree leaves.

It wasn't like you were laying avid amounts of your attention on him or anything. You didn't pay attention to how broad his shoulders looked in his old man sweaters that you could've bet money smells like mothballs. How his features seemed sharpened to match the fierceness that lived inside his eyes. The only thing that exposed his softness was the speck of a mole that dusted itself on his left eyelid.

Jaebum just held a presence that demanded to be noticed. Whether he himself liked it or not.

“Jaebum: do you have anything you’d like to add to the session?”

Dr. Thompson’s question made the both of you jolt in your seats. Youwere too busy staring down at your nails while you plucked away at the cuticles. Jaebum's head turned, unbeknownst to you, from looking at you to the good doctor. It was enough to make your cheeks flush hot.

His crossed arms gave a soft shrug, and you hated how your eyes stayed captivated by the movement. You were willing to blame it on the charcoal-worn cable knit sweater he favored. It really did smell like moth balls and age making you willing to bet it wasn't his to begin with.

“We talked about this guys. Shrugging is not an adequate substitute for an answer.”

His tone showing his frustration more than anger at his need to repeatedly inform the group. Dr. Thompson looked at each of you individually until he stopped on Jaebum, who didn’t seem the least bit moved.

“I have nothing to say.”

A sigh escaped from Dr. Thompson’s lips as his head shook softly. His eyes averted down to the tin clipboard momentarily before they resumed their previous position.

“And what is it exactly you would like me to add, huh?” You felt your body tense against the chair. Your hands grasping at its edges like it would be the only thing to keep you stable against the oncoming rage that was Jaebum’s agitation. “We do these pointless sessions over and over: again and again. For what? Do you think it “saves” anyone?”

Your eyes diverted from the safety of your knees; counting every frayed piece of cloth on your jeans that hung loose from torn holes. No part of you needed to acknowledge that he was standing. The room did that well enough with the tension his power caused. The room itself swelling with anxiety that made fidgety Sera begin to rock violently against the back of her chair. Her head shaking hair into her face, like a curtain to hide what she feared was coming her way like the abusive hands of her father.

The orderlies were already beginning to circle his chair, but Dr. Thompson held up a hand of warding. He reminded you too much of an irresponsible ring handler at a circus. Unwilling to recognize his own tiger was about to maim him.

“No, no that’s fair enough. I see you have an issue with the way we try and help our patients.”

“Help?!” Jaebum snarled. “Is that what you call it? Like you helped Simon remember all the things he wanted to forget! Is that what you call endless therapies until he killed himself! You consider being helpful with the way you handled Ian?”

Dr. Thompson regarded Jaebum quietly, but his eyes were focused and searching the young man’s face. You watched in helpless awe as one stood like a calm in a blazing storm, while the other raged so furiously you thought the walls would come down. No longer was his voice a strong current, but now thunderous words that hurled like lightning bolts were being directed at the man before him.

Jaebum was right. Sometimes, the doctors picked and picked a part at you until you were left bare and raw. And if their words didn’t do it their physical methods picked up where they lacked. His anger was justified, because deep down so were you. But you didn’t have the towering strength like he did to stand up to anyone. Your fear of the seclusion rooms kept you prisoner: locked in your chair as a simple flick of Dr. Thompson’s hand sent the orderlies rushing to Jaebum’s side.

“I think that’s enough for today’s session.”

In the back of your mind you knew that Jaebum was right. In part. Who were counselors and psychologists to tell the broken mirrors of people how to put their pieces back together? Only to end up with more blood on their hands from struggling to put sharp pieces in place. They studied people like you, Jaebum...people like Ian who were features in their college books. They themselves barely ever one to experience it themselves.

Healing, even if unconventional, was still healing in the end. There was no right or wrong way to get there, but here, with people like Dr. Thompson, their textbook solutions were the only solutions. Maybe that’s why it backfired so terribly with Ian.

So for once, you wanted to stand up with Jaebum. To call out the injustices of treatments forced on patients, like Ian. Treatments they’d placed on patients that only wanted to forget, because no one wants to remember traumas and everything that makes them feel like failures.

You knew, however, if you took that chance to be brave for once you would end up like Jaebum. Uselessly struggling against orderlies who came prepared with syringes to make you complacent and an endless day being locked for god knew how long inside seclusion.

It was cowardice that kept your mouth shut. All of you stayed quiet as an orderly you aptly nicknamed, “The Bull,” grabbed at the neck of Jaebum’s sweater. That was all it took for him to react violently. Jaebum’s elbow flew back with such force it dislodged The Bull’s grip, which only seemed to make it worse.

“Jaebum, please do not struggle.” Dr. Thompson’s voice didn’t sound as soothing as he probably imagined. Obvious agitation outlined every word; the struggle forcing all of you up from your chairs and away from the fighting. “Everyone out. Now.”

A part of you hated listening. For not firmly digging your feet in to stand for something you agreed wasn’t right. It was an odd thought. Since Ian was the usual instigator of the chaos of how these ended. Never Jaebum. Maybe he just felt like in Ian’s absence he needed to take over for him.

“You play god with everyone’s emotions and leave them to drown alone in the aftermath. You are the reason Christian keeps escaping and Hyujin is gone! It’s you! It’s all of you!”

Jaebum’s rage became more apparent with each sentence and broke as his throat formed the words of his former friend. Former because he’d found himself as one of Dr. Thompson’s experimental new treatments. A treatment that brought back too much Hyujin couldn’t cope with - was forced to confront - before he was ready.

The ward still felt hollow - missing in the sound of Hyujin’s laugh.

You would’ve been impressed with the way Jaebum was laying into the doctor. He was holding his own against the orderly at his arms until the Bull snuck behind him and brought him falling down to the cold concrete floor.

That was the last you saw of Jaebum as you were ushered outside the doors. You faced them for a long time. No one questioned why you stood at the entrance as Jaebum’s yelling dulled to nothing. It was too late for you to run back and play the role of knight in shining armor and standing in front of the door would only make the staff assume you were waiting to cause a scene.

Turning on your heel you headed towards the living area. Your mind racing heavily with indecision and not paying attention to the overcrowded chairs and couches. You bypassed them all to head to your favorite window seat. It was opposite to the one everyone knew as Jaebum’s; reading a new book every week during free time. It was so engrained to the fabric of the facility that no one tried to take it from him. Not even Ian.

You folded into yourself as soon as you sat down on the window seat. Your chin pressed into your shoulder so you could get a better look outside. The vibrant colors of changing leaves reminding you that fall was coming. Maybe they would let you work outside if you were good? You were tired of doing bathroom and kitchen duties, but because of Ian’s latest stunt no one was allowed outside. Not until the fences were made higher with wire curled along the top.

If thoughts could be breathed into existence, you were positive you alone would be deemed responsible for Ian walking, right then and there, through the facility's double doors. Of course, Ian could never simply enter a room quietly.

Christian entered every room like a force. Wild and unpredictable. Mother Nature couldn’t compete with his massive hurricane personality. No one could come close, because underneath all that unhinged nature was a magmatism that far outreached just good looks.

Was Christian good looking? Devilishly so. It was his way with words, however, that left many people reeling. Not just fellow patients, but staff as well. He was painfully charming and, if you weren’t prepared for his wide-set smile directed in your direction, you were going to find yourself in trouble. Deep, deep Christian-flavored trouble. The staff had even labeled him with a warning of “verbal jujitsu” - you had to stay miles ahead of the conversation or you’d find yourself like the recently fired psych tech who’d handed over the ward keys without a second thought.

Seriously. That’s how Christian escaped this time. All the other times, well, the man could be considered the second coming of Houdini.

“How have you been, Bob? Are your feet still giving you grief, Margo?”

It was impressive how he acted like it wasn’t a big deal he’d magically reappeared. The guard and orderlies awkwardly keep watch over the double doors he’d come through like he’d disappear back into thin air.

You hated how happy you became hearing the richness of his voice. The way his accent reminded you of the battle of wills on what was the proper way to say, “water,” and the teasing you gave him about constantly saying, “Naurr”.

“It’s Margaret, jackass,” the older psych tech mumbled in reply. She didn’t even bother to look up from putting a new bandage on Bob’s hands.

“Missed you too, babe.”

You watched his reflection in the safety of the glass of the window. You didn’t want to show how eager you were to see him - or to find out that every time he left the ward became almost too much to bear alone.

In the safety of the window, you could pretend the call to freedom was what kept your eyes hypnotized. Not the sleeveless tee he’d tucked inside the waist of skinny jeans that hugged to the muscles like paint or the layers of tattoos that covered honey skin. He wasn’t tan when he’d left. Where had Ian’s adventures taken him this time?

You would get the chance to ask him yourself.

When his eyes caught sight of your huddled frame curled in the window seat his trajectory changed completely. He didn’t think you’d noticed him yet, but it didn’t stop his infamous megawatt smile from brightening up his features and the butterflies he’d left trapped in your gut instantly springing back to life.

The only downside? You were more than positive Ian saw you only as a sister. If he’d thought of you in the past as anything else you would’ve definitely known by now. As much as Ian was known for his charisma and whirlwind energy, he was also known for slipping into the janitor’s closet with more than a few now-fired staff members.

In a matter of seconds, he left the mirage of the window to become real beside you. The smell of cigarettes and his preferred cologne enveloped you, instantly turning the space intimate. You tried your best to ignore him. Ian would receive nothing but the side eye from you after the latest shit he’d pulled.

He let out a heavy sigh as a finger playfully poked into your side. He wiggled the digit in a weak attempt to tickle you thinking it would be enough for you to finally look at him. Fat chance. Using your elbow, you pushed down with just enough force to dislodge him from your side. The act forced a heavy sigh to flare his nostrils as he leaned back against the window.

“Come on, ‘Roo. You can’t be that mad at me?”

Of course, he would use your nickname. The nickname you earned one night when he’d tried to tickle you until you couldn’t breathe. To be honest, he thinks you’d kicked him accidentally in the chest because you might wet yourself. The truth? Ian had gotten dangerously close. A few times it felt like his lips were just a few sharp breaths away from landing on yours, and that night you’d felt hollow. So hollow. All you wanted was to burn and Ian…he was so full of fire and life and for once you wanted to know what it felt like to be filled with something other than emptiness.

You wanted to catch fire too.

So you’d kicked out at him in panic. Hence how you became his Kangaroo. His ‘Roo.

“Actually,” you began, biting out the world with each syllable. “I can be upset with you and I most definitely am.”

“Don’t be like that, ‘Roo. I know you missed me.”

“No, I didn’t. It was rather peaceful while you were off on whatever antics you decided to get into.”

A tsk sent his bottom lip into a pout as he crossed his arms. His shoulders lean further down the window and slightly into your view.

God, why did he have to be so heartbreakingly handsome?

You refused to make eye contact with him. Don’t do it. It’s a trick. You knew it was a trick. A sneaky ploy and yet…you looked. One look was all it took and Ian knew he had you.

“I missed you.” His voice caressed your skin like velvet causing it to erupt in goosebumps. “So, I know if I missed you that can only mean that you missed me.”

A snort of disbelief left you as you finally gave him what he’d been asking: your full and undivided attention.

“Is that how it works, Ian?”

“Ah!” He beamed. “She finally looks at me.”

You couldn’t keep your eyes from rolling as you tried to face away from him, but Ian wasn’t having it.

“I shouldn’t even do that.”

“Where is all this hostility coming from?” He pouted. “Did you experience another one of Dr. Thompson’s riveting group circles?”

“It’s not funny, Ian. You always leave.” You hated how your voice betrayed you. The way it cracked before you could glue it back together. “You go and leave me here, without you, all the time. One of these days you may not come back.”

All the playfulness slowly drained from his features. The sly smile wilted to a grimace as deep brown eyes scanned over your face. Calculating your words with the body language of guarded arms and saddened eyes. His hands gently grabbed at your elbows to loosen your arms before turning you to him. His head dipped down just a bit to make sure he had you at eye level.

“Hey, ‘Roo. I’m sorry. I come back for you, you know that right?” You knew he was lying, but try telling that to the butterflies fluttering around like crazy in your gut. “These assholes could never catch me if I didn’t turn myself in, and I only turned myself in to get back to you.”

You didn’t know what you would’ve said at that moment. Maybe something he wanted to hear or maybe - finally - you’d have the guts to call him out on his bullshit. Luckily for you, the muffled sound of Jaebum’s screaming slowly grew louder until his struggling body was brought through the double doors from therapy.

“Let me go, you assholes!”

You’d never seen Jaebum fight so fiercely before. The way he flailed his arms to find a way to get them released along with his legs kicking out like a madman. They practically dragged him down the hall towards seclusion. For a split second, in his struggle, his eyes landed on you. His gaze held yours for what felt like a lifetime until the spell was broken. It felt like slow motion as his face turned to see Ian on your right and all the fight drained from his body.

Did he think he was fighting for Ian? Himself? Jaebum was never much for acting out. That was usually Ian who created trouble. Maybe that was why he looked so shocked seeing Jaebum being dragged down to seclusion.

“Oi! What the fuck is this?”

Ian was up off the window seat in seconds. A couple of orderlies were already coming out from behind the nursing station to meet him halfway. Whatever they were saying, you weren’t all too sure. Ian was doing his usual of screaming and shoving causing the orderlies to prepare for a fight. The patients closest to all the commotion desperately trying to get out of the way.

It was all chaos. All classic Ian. The only non-classic thing was Jaebum looking at you in a way you’d never noticed before. It created a row of questions that sat heavily on your tongue and ones you weren’t sure he would ever be willing to answer.

It wasn’t until everything had settled down again that you snuck inside the room that held group therapy. Your eyes instantly homing in on Jaebum’s chair and underneath it one of his grandfather’s books.

Before you dared to push all the way through into the room you gave one last cautious glance to the recreation room and slipped inside. You made sure to hold the door so it didn’t click into place. There was no denying if you were caught sneaking in somewhere you weren’t meant to be you’d be joining Jaebum in your own seclusion room.

The sterile room with its egg-white walls was most definitely not your favorite. The only way to add your own source of color to its walls was to display your thoughts - projecting them out like a fucked up home movie that you’d rather forget.

You made sure to cut across the room silently. Your legs bending at the knee to swoop down to grab the worn-down cover and secure it to your chest.

You couldn’t explain why as you made your way out of the room towards the upper floor that held the seclusion rooms what made you want to do this for him. It’s not like he would thank you, but you weren’t looking for that.

It wasn’t hard to notice the way Jaebum cared for his late grandfather's things. From the sweater he wore daily that was meticulously cleaned and laundered to the few books Jaebum was able to keep from his collection. He coveted them the way others valued trophies but it wasn’t praise that Jaebum found secluded inside their pages: it was peace.

You didn’t know much about him. Jaebum wasn’t much of a sharer. He was reserved. The only way to know him was by the pages you held close to your chest. So, you weren’t terribly sure why you were doing this for him except for the fact you believed no one should go without something that they loved.

Just as you were about to round the last corner to the hallway that held seclusion rooms 1 through 3, you caught a flash of an orderly speaking to a nurse. From the brief moment you’d caught before you found the safety of the opposite wall, they were more than likely flirting.

Ted. That was the name written on his uniform. He’d called Ian a “Psycho,” a handful of times. You wondered if Ted knew the nurse he worshiped spent the same handful of nights sneaking inside Ian’s dorm.

“Do you maybe want to go get breakfast in the morning?”

Breakfast?! You mouthed to yourself before you snuck another peek around the corner.

“Oh, I don’t know, Ted. I might have plans later.”

If your eyes could roll back any harder you would’ve seen brain cells. You knew exactly what her supposed plans were. You could already hear the moans that echoed down the halls like a haunting. The only thing haunted here would be you.

You didn’t have to see Ted’s expression to know he was defeated. He was probably wondering how someone could refuse breakfast or maybe he was finally growing tired of being told no. The mystery of the unknown in this love triangle would sadly (not really) remain a mystery. You didn’t really care if they had breakfast together or hunted Easter eggs. You just wanted them to finish their awkward conversation and leave the damn hallway.

A few more strangled pieces of conversation later and you could hear the shuffling of feet. Quickly, you moved inside a linen closet and quietly shut the door. Your ears straining - waiting - to hear a pair of feet move past your location so you could finish what you came to do.

Every second you were out here and not inside your own dorm waiting for the nurses to come in and check you were there was one second too many in a chance at punishment. After a few more minutes went by and the coast sounded relatively clear, you creeped out from the linen closet and dashed towards the seclusion rooms.

“Jaebum!?” You half whispered half yelled. “Jay!”

“What the hell are you doing over here?”

Ah, there was that condescending voice you’d grown accustomed to. Following the sound of his voice, and with the help of his fingers hanging out of the small seclusion window, you darted towards the back of the hall. Your arms still securely held onto his grandfather’s book and only began to loosen as you got closer to the door.

“I wanted to bring you something before they placed it in lost and found.”

With another cautious glance down the hall, your fingers wrapped around the edges of the book's spine. You offered it up to him and gently started to push it through the small window. Jaebum hadn’t spoken since he noticed what you held in your hands. His fingers overlapped yours as he took it from you. His arms immediately brought it inside with him with the sound of pages flipping while he made sure each page was still accounted for.

“How did you-“ he began, but his words quickly died out.

“Can you believe it ladies and gentlemen? For once, he was too stunned to speak,” you teased.

Jaebum’s eyes narrowed in on your face. His hands wagged the book as if he was going to hit you over the head with it. Who knows, he might have if there wasn’t a 30-pound door stationed between you.

“I’m serious. You came all this way to give me this?”

You shrugged his words off like what you’d done wasn’t a big deal. Both of you knew it was. So many factors that could lead you to where he was, or worse, if they believed you were trying to steal someone else’s property. Which, they one hundred percent would even though kleptomania wasn’t part of your conga line list of disorders.

“I remember how much his things matter to you. I didn’t want Bull or Kojak The Great Dick to get a hold of it. I know they wouldn’t have respected it after today.”

You’d expected a lot of things to come out of this exchange. The main one? At least a thank you. All you were getting now felt like the cold shoulder that featured a very unnerving stare. With every second you were feeling more self-conscious and it took everything in you not to shout, “Boo!” in an attempt to get him to blink.

You couldn’t take the awkwardness of the exchange any longer. Your feet were already backpedaling as your arms swung, thumb extended out, to indicate your exit before you spoke.

“Great well, this was a fun chat-“

“He lies to you, you know.”

Jaebum’s words took you by surprise. You were sure that was the point. His face was set in deep lines of determination as if what he needed to say was something you needed to adhere to like the gospel from the Bible.

“Okay, Jay I’ll bite: who is he?”

“You know who I’m talking about. Ian. It’s who he is. He doesn’t know how to tell the truth, and you always set yourself up for failure with him.”

Maybe Jaebum thought he was being helpful - calling to light all things you were aware of but couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud. You must have seemed too weak - gullible - in his eyes for him to believe he needed to say these things.

You eyed him coolly through the window. Your tongue rolled around inside your cheek trying to decide what exactly you should say at this moment. Did he want recognition that you knew you were an idiot? What did it matter to him if you knew Ian didn’t give two fucks about you.

So, the only thing you could settle on was the beginning of a long sigh before you spoke: “I know I might look like a love-sick puppy to you, Jay, but I know my place.”

He tried saying your name to stop you. You just ignored him as you shook your head and allowed yourself to begin to move back down the hall towards the safety of your own dorm.

“It’s alright, Jay I get it. Take care of your grandfather’s things better, okay?”

You didn’t wait to finish your sentence before you were already turning to head down the hallway. The bottom of your feet itching for you to sprint in the opposite direction. Your mind raced over Jaebum’s words and matched them with the growing chasm in your chest.

So lost in your head, you barely caught the sound of his parting, “Thank you,” as you bolted around the corner.

177 notes · View notes

mykoreanlove · 7 months

Text

Can I see you tonight?

“You are doing WHAT? Y/N, are you out of your fucking mind?”

The slightly annoyed voice shouting at you through your phone was no other than your best friend. “You cried so much because of that man-whore and now you’re going to his place? What is wrong with you?”

Fair enough, you had asked yourself that as well. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. What’s your motive?”

You sighed in defeat. “See, I thought about that, too. It’s true, JB hurt me badly. And I should be over him and all but I’m not. I am still thinking about him, wishing that it would be different. I… I miss him. And I haven’t heard from him in so long, I just.. I just want to know what he’s got to say to me. Can’t you understand that?”

Your friend sighed in annoyance. “What are you wearing?”

That question caught you by surprise. “Huh?”

“Y/N, don’t play dumb with me. What are you wearing?”

You looked down at yourself and started describing your outfit. Black sports leggings, red hoodie and leather boots. “Oh, you mean the sports leggings that accentuates your bubble butt? And the red hoodie that makes your eyes pop? And not to forget the leather boots that look sexy as fuck on you?”

You gulped, not saying a word. “What are you wearing underneath?”

It was pointless to lie, so you told her the truth. “Red lacy thong..”, you mumbled. “And?” You rolled your eyes, thankful that she couldn’t see it. “No bra.”

“Y/N, I swear to god. You are going over there because you want him to fuck you! Seriously? That bastard behaved like he fell for you only to ghost you and you’re thinking of fucking his dick?”

Hearing her talk like that made your stomach turn. She wasn’t all wrong but she wasn’t all right either. Did you put a lot of thought into your outfit? Of course you did. When Jaebeom ditched you it hurt like hell, so naturally you wanted payback. Getting dolled up, showing off your goodies to tease him – anything really that would make him regret dumping you.

You thought of all possible scenarios in your head. Would he apologize and confess his love to you? Would he fuck you and make you leave? Would he apologize and introduce a new girlfriend to you? Would he even be at home or was this all a prank? Endless possibilities roamed your head until you decided to stop thinking. The last thing you needed was a headache.

“Listen, I know you worry about me and I appreciate that. I am curious what he has got to say to me. And if he isn’t saying anything at all, I can at least ask why he ended things the way he did. Anything after that? Total uncertainty. Maybe I’ll see him and be turned off by him. Maybe I understand his ways and feel empathy for him. Maybe I decide I am done with him and leave. Or maybe I’ll use him just like he used me… It’s been a while and a girl got needs. Is that noble? No. But the world is complex, it’s not black and white. Especially not with JB. At least, I want to be prepared.”

You hung up as you arrived at his place. You scanned the bell for his name, taking a deep breath before pushing it. “Jaebeom, please don’t make me regret this.”

His apartment was on the third floor. You took each step nervously, not knowing what to expect from him. You were wondering if his heart was racing as fast as yours. When you made it to his floor you noticed his door being open ajar, him being nowhere in sight though. You collected yourself one last time before grabbing the handle and entering.

“JB?”

He was rushing to the front door, cheeks slightly red because he didn’t make it on time. “Y/N! I’m so happy to see you. Come on in!”

You took a good look at him. He was dressed casually – black joggers and a white shirt that accentuated his defined body. His hair was longer though, falling into his beautiful features effortlessly. He still had the same aura about him. He was confident in a silent, down to earth way. “Fuck”, you muttered under your breath. Hating him just got a lot harder.

“Did you eat? I cooked for us.” He beamed you a sly smile and ushered you into the kitchen. It smelled heavenly and you started to relax for the first time. You were too nervous to eat before, so you welcomed the pleasant smell of your favorite dish. “I made you tteokbokki. It’s your favorite, right?”

You thought back to the first time you had tteokbokki with him. It felt like ages ago, even though it only had been months. You were sitting on his couch eating, trying your best not to go up in flames as it was way too spicy for you. JB looked at you concerned. “Is it good?” You took a deep breath, nodding. “Yes, but it’s so fucking spicy!” He sprinted over to you immediately. “Oh, let me extinguish the heat then.” And with that he kissed you – sweetly and innocently.

You got pulled out of your memories as he handed you a plate. “Come on, let’s eat.” You barely touched your food – not because it was too spicy but because you were too nervous to eat. Up ‘til now you only talked about irrelevant things – what you had been up to, work, your family, plans for the remaining year. Jaebeom barely looked at you which you took as a sign of his nervousness. Why was he nervous though? You were the one that got rejected.

He got up and put on some music, dimming the lights to change the mood. Your stomach churned again, you had never been this nervous with him. He sat next to you on the black couch and just watched you.

“What?”

“Sorry, I, I thought this would be easier but it’s not.. It’s hard for me actually.”

You were confused. “What is?”

He grinned embarrassed. “Seeing you again. I know I fucked up and I wanted to talk about it but now that I’m actually seeing you it’s so hard.” He gulped nervously.

A ping of relief washed over you. He wanted to apologize, that was good! But you wouldn’t go easy on him, you wanted to see him suffer. You turned around and faced him directly, your doe eyes looking at him innocently while you were licking your lips seductively.

“Go on. You can do it, JB.”

He laughed. God, you missed his voice so much. The deep, honeylike voice that whispered the sweetest and naughtiest things into your ear.

“I wish I could find the right words and give you a proper explanation, Y/N. But I wasn’t in the right mind back then. I felt so lost.”

He took a halt and waited. That was not enough, no. You wanted more, you wanted a proper explanation from him. Maybe you needed to help him start?

You stood up and re-positioned yourself – on his lap facing him intimately. Jaebeom’s eyes widened in shock. His hands travelled to your sides automatically, squeezing your hips and ass. You caressed his face, tucking the lose strands of hair behind his ear.

“I am listening, Jaebeom.”

You felt him getting hard underneath you, grinning vigorously. He was holding back so much and you knew.

“I had been single for a short while when we met. And I wanted to keep it that way. You know, have some fun and move on. And it worked perfectly with all the girls before you but you y/n, you were different.”

You saw the pain in his eyes and felt good. It was petty but you were hurt and now you wanted him to suffer, too. You placed sweet little kisses along his jawline, whispering. “Different how?”

Jaebeom sighed heavily, trying to control himself.

“You were one of a kind. You still are.”

You let go of his jaw and watched him carefully.

“I had never met someone like you, y/n. You are so beautiful and funny. Smart and creative. Like I could talk to you about the most stupid stuff as well as my biggest fears. I was so drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. I felt my best when I was with you. But also my… worst.”

The last part caught you by surprise. You wanted to get up and get some space between the two of you but he held you tight by your wrists.

“Listen to me, please. I felt my worst because I knew I couldn’t live up to you. I wasn’t the man you deserved to be with. I was acting like a big fuckboy, running away from my demons and facing different pussies instead of my baggage. I didn’t deserve to be with you.”

You started to tear up. Never ever had you thought of this possibility. Did you think of him leaving you because you were not good enough? Yes. Did you think of him leaving because you sucked in bed? Yes. Did you think of him leaving because you were just not what a guy wanted? You bet. But this?

His honesty caught you off guard.

„I knew that you wouldn‘t let go of me, y/n. I saw it in your eyes. So I did what I always do best: fuck up. I had to hurt you so badly, hoping that you would forget about me. Did you…?” He paused for a brief moment. “Did you forget about me?”

You held back tears as you were facing him. You hated being weak, but you couldn’t help it right now. With a very low voice you answered. “I tried to. I tried kissing someone else, I tried dating someone else but I… I always thought about you.”

You looked down at your lap, too embarrassed to face him. Jaebeom grabbed your chin with his fingers and looked at you lovingly. “Funny enough, I did the same thing. I tried to forget about you by getting with other girls but none of them did the trick. No one ever compared to you, y/n.”

You grabbed his hand that was holding your chin and squeezed it lightly. Tears started to fall from your eyes as you asked him again. “What changed? Why now?”

Jaebeom’s fingers landed on your cheeks, wiping away the salty tears you cried because of him. “I wonder how many tears you must have cried because of me, y/n. I am so sorry. I really, really am.” He looked at you sincerely, you were believing his every word. With a sigh he explained further. “I got tired of running away. I got tired of playing this game that I’m bound to loose. I want to be with you. I know I’m not perfect and I can’t change what I did but I want to be better. For you. I want to be the man you deserve to be with. If you let me, of course.”

He looked at you nervously. “Will you let me, y/n?”

You chuckled in relief, as well. “Of course, you idiot. Of course, I will.”

His eyes lit up with excitement as he realized what you had said. Not even a second after he crushed his lips onto yours, kissing you like it was the first time. You made out for a while, in desperate need for each other. He interrupted each kiss with another declaration of love.

“I will make it up to you, y/n.” Kiss. “I missed you so fucking much.” Kiss. “God, I’m such an idiot.” Kiss. “What did I do to ever deserve you?” Kiss. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you for giving me another chance.” Kiss. “I won’t fuck up this time.” Kiss. “I promise”. Kiss.

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jadededge · 5 months

Text

Tear You Apart | Ch.3

Pairing: GOT7 x OC

Genre: Demon/Mafia AU, Romance, Smut

Rating: M

Summary: Jaebeom and Yugyeom are "running an errand" when the most delectable scent that he ever smelled hit Yugyeom like a ton of bricks. Yugyeom stops JayB and soon he smells it. They look across the street and see the her. They stalk her for awhile and finally get the chance to manufacture a meet with her.

Wattpad | AO3 (will likely always update these 2 places first)

Navigation: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Despite their busy and immortal lives, the boys try to have dinner together as often as possible. Gathering around the large oak table in their dining room, they share laughs and stories of the day. Relaxing and unwinding as a family.

"So, maknaes," Jaebeom starts. "I hear you had to provide some backup on Canal. How did that go?"

"We went to see Selah. I'm so sorry," Youngjae immediately folds and bows his head, hoping to be spared.

Bam sucks his teeth. "Youngjae, what the fuck man?"

"You did what?" Jaebeom asks calmly. Too calm.

The sound of silverware hitting plates echoed in the now quiet room.

"Aw shit, boys, why did you do that?" Mark asks.

"We only wanted to see her." Yugyeom adds with a pout. "We didn't even talk to her." He says leaning towards Youngjae.

Jinyoung must've caught that because he immediately followed up. "Bam. What about you?"

"Whatever. I talked to her. And I got her number."

All the older brothers sigh. Jaebeom continues to look. His chin starts to protrude.

"Son, why did you do that when we have her number?" Mark asked.

"I'm sorry, were we going to start texting her and tell her we looked up everything about her beforehand?" He laid it out. "I'm playing the boyfriend game." He leans back, looking proud of himself.

Jaebeom was pissed, but he was trying not to show it. He had a plan, and this... He stands, pushing his chair back to leave. "I'm going out."

"Either you've messed up so badly that he needs to go prepare to send you back or..." Jackson pauses. "Actually, I don't know what else he could be doing. Nice knowing you, Bam. I'll see you in 50 years."

Jinyoung chimes in with a disapproving tone, "You do know Jackson went to meet her as well? What will she think? We're meant to be playing this smart, and you've gone and added another complication to the situation. Yeah, Jaebeom should send you back."

"I fucked up, huh?" Bam says, hanging his head.

Mark, though known for his temper, is actually quite gentle with his brothers. Particularly the younger ones, and tries to comfort them. "Did you fuck up? Yes. But it will be okay. JB won't send you back."

"He might strangle you, though." Jackson says he is taking a bite of his food.

Mark gives him a 'stop that' look.

"What? Bammie, I invited Selah to the club. How do we explain to her that out of pure coincidence, she met both of us on the same day and that we know each other? You might have to miss the opening."

Bam lets out a puff of air ready to protest.

"That's actually not a bad idea." Jinyoung says. "You three will not be at the opening."

The younger ones begin to protest. Jinyoung holds his hand up and says, "Save it. This is perfect. Perhaps Jaebeom won't murder you if we can salvage this."

_____________________________________________________________

The weekend arrives, and everybody is a bundle of nerves. After adjusting plans, the boys feel like they're actually in a better place. Feeling that perhaps it would be easier to introduce her to four of them versus all seven.

The maknaes are on warehouse duty for the night, and they couldn't have been more sour about it.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into going with you. Now look at me." Youngjae pouts, looking into the distance.

Bam rolls his eyes and says, "Well, you hardly put up a fight at a gentle suggestion."

Yugyeom chuckles a bit. "You did come along pretty easily. We should just be happy we didn't get banished."

"Valid point. But I want to meet her now." Youngjae says.

Yugy juts his lip out, "Me too."

"Yeah she's great. Glad I talked to her when I did." Bam says proudly.

The other two side eye him.

_____________________________________________________________

Selah arrives at the club accompanied by her friend Brianca. She's feeling good about how she looks. The little black dress she has on is her favorite among the many in her closet. The tiny straps sit upon her glittering shoulders. The bodice fits tight on her chest with a side split that causes the material to lay nicely over her ass. Matched with a flattering pair of heels that elongate her legs and strap around her ankles is giving her a confidence boost. Not to mention, she smelled amazing.

She's hoping to see Jackson. Bam hasn't texted her. Which made her a bit sad, as she was hoping he would. But she figured she would at least have a good time, get her mind off the week, and look good if for nobody but herself

"Girl, this club is nice!" Brianca says to Selah. "And you said he's the owner?"

"That's what he said. So I'm not sure I'll easily bump into him." Selah responds by surveying the area.

"Let's get a drink!" Brianca suggests.

At the bar, Brianca has already been approached by a couple of guys and is chatting one up. She has a very inviting aura, so it's no surprise she's already deep in conversations.

At one point she leans over to Selah, "omg girl. This is that guy I told you about. That I went out with a couple of weeks ago." "The one with the.." Selah wiggles her brows.

"Yes him." Brianca exclaims trying not to let him hear.

Selah chuckles, "well it looks like you're in for a wild night."

"Here's hoping." Brianca cheers with her friend and turns back to her presumed date for the evening.

As Selah is enjoying her cocktail, she feels a gentle touch on her shoulder that sends shivers throughout her body. Looking to her left, she sees Jackson. Managing her reaction, she doesn't smile too hard. "Jackson, hi."

"Selah, you made it." He's grinning from ear to ear. He takes a second to look her up and down. Without realizing it, he's licking his lips. "You look amazing."

This causes her to blush hard and look away briefly. "Thank you. You look great yourself, and your club is amazing."

"Thank you. I spotted you and wanted to be sure I had a chance to speak while things were going smoothly."

He needed to get her away from her friend and up to the private room. He can tell she cares about her and won't want to leave her alone or unsafe. But it appears luck was on his side.

"Brianca." Selah is turning to get her friend's attention to introduce her to Jackson. "This is Ja-."

But she's being lead to the dance floor by the guy she was chatting with. She looks back and smiles big at her friend. Quickly surveying the guy next to Selah she gives her a 'go get em' look.

"Well I was going to introduce you but nevermind I guess." She laughs.

Jackson sighs internally with relief, "No worries, we can meet later. She looks like a good time."

"Oh she's a blast in a glass. She'll be entertained for hours."

"In that case, would you like me to show you around?" Jackson asks as he holds his hand out for her.

"Sure. I'd like that, we sort of b-lined to the music, so I haven't seen the rest."

He leads her through the crowd and back toward the foyer. The place is actually quite large with a few different areas. One being the bigger bar and dance floor area they just left. Jackson shows her around the bottom floor. Even showing her a few behind the scene places before leading her into a lounge area. It's decorated in gold, with soft lighting and slow music, this makes for a nice area to chat.

"One of my brothers designed this room. He thought it would be a good idea to add an area that was much less chaotic than the traditional club atmosphere." Jackson explained.

"Oh you have a brother?" Selah asks.

"Yes, six actually." He leads her to the bar to order himself a drink. "Would you like anything?"

"Whatever you're having. Unless it's vodka." She makes a disgusting face.

Jackson chuckles and signals to the bartender, "please send over two glasses of Hennessy and ice. Thanks T."

"You got it boss." The bartender responds.

Jackson turns his attention to Selah, "Come, let's have a seat."

Settling in, Jackson takes this time to get a really good look at her. She's perfect. They begin a back and forth conversation that flows with ease. He asks her questions about herself that he already knows the answers to, but he loves hearing her talk, so this isn't a problem.

She asks about his business endeavors and he explains to her how he owns this a few other nightclubs. He mentions the corporation that his family runs, not the illegal things, obviously.

"So you have 6 brothers. That had to be hectic growing up." Selah comments.

"You could say that again. We're not exactly blood brothers, more very close friends, but we're brothers in just about every other way. We sort of came together at different times but we've been together ever since." She's listening intently. Jackson hasn't even used his gifts to any degree and she's already hooked on his every word. "Three of them are here now. I was hoping to introduce you actually. They've been dying to meet you."

"Oh, you've told them about me?" She's shocked, they only met briefly. "And you want me to meet them?"

He smiles and grabs her hand, gently caressing it. "Of course, we tell each other everything. So when I met a gorgeous woman, I told them immediately."

She was a bit hesitant but the moment Jackson touches her, she gets those same shivers. Being near Jackson, she finds herself alot more willing to go along with just about anything he says. Especially when he touches her.

She blushes, "Okay, sure."

He beams at her, "You're going to love them."

"I should text my friend and let her know."

This irritates Jackson. But he hides his displeasure. "Sure, no problem. "

He needs her alone and he didn't want to manipulate her to do it but this is becoming tedious. How do normal people live like this.

"Oh, she actually messaged to say she left with that guy. I must've missed it. I guess i'm all yours." Selah explains.

"Perfect." Jackson stands and extends his hand to help her up.

_____________________________________________________________

Leading her out of the lounge and through the club to the stairs, Selah feels lightheaded. She feels as if she's walking to another world. The decor is also darker upstairs. The walls are a blood red velvet with black damask patterning. The lighting is low and the music from downstairs is faded and becomes more faint the deeper they walk.

"Continuing the tour," Jackson starts. "This top floor has a few private rooms that special guests can use, as well as the offices."

He stops at a door at the end of the hall and on the other side, Selah knows deep down, everything will change once she steps in. Jackson opens the door and gestures for her to enter.

The room is spacious, continuing the same dark motif, but the colors are a darker green and black with gold accents. There's a full-sized bar and and lounge area with a large window across the way for a view of the entire dance floor from above.

And scattered about the room are three of the finest men Selah has ever seen, apart from Jackson. It nearly takes her breath away. They are dressed in finely tailored suits, like Jackson, and they have this something about them she can't quite put her finger on. Maybe this was a mistake. She thinks.

Jackson places his hand on the small of her back and moves her further into the room, "Selah, these are three of my brothers." He points to one at the bar with a short haircut and a dazzling smile that warms her heart. "This is Mark, the oldest."

"Hello gorgeous, lovely to meet you." He finishes making his drink and comes to settle in a chair next to the couch.

"And this absolute cutie..." pointing to other one with a short haircut. His lips grab her attention and she can't help but stare at them. He chuckles slightly and bites his bottom lip. She had to stop her knees from giving out. Did he do that on purpose. "...is Jinyoung."

He rolls his eyes, "Could you not introduce me that way." He gives her a smile staring directly in her eyes making her melt.

"Why? Is he not adorable Selah?" Jackson turns to ask her. She blushes from being put on the spot. Jackson laughs. "And lastly but certainly not least, this is Jaebeom. He is our leader."

Calling this man gorgeous would be an understatement. With longer hair styled perfectly sitting across his neck. Selah couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to run her fingers through it. She's cursing herself for how hard she is crushing on her crush's brothers.

He nods her direction. "Nice to meet you Selah, you can call me Jay B."

Her head swims. "Nice to meet you all"

"Come let's sit." Jackson moves them to a loveseat next to Jaebeom and across from Mark. Jinyoung has his eyes trained on her.

All four of them are drawing her in, with their confidence and captivating aura. But just beyond that is something tugging at her, whispering danger. She's watching herself wade further into the waters. What is happening...

Tags: @openup-yourmind

#kpop fanfic #got7 smut #got7 jaebeom #got7 fanfic #jb got7 #jinyoung #got7 fanfiction #got7 jb #got7 yugyeom #got7 mark #got7 youngjae #kpop fanfiction #fanfic #romance fanfiction #ao3feed #wattpad

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yiensaintlaurent · 1 year

Text

00 | the other side - mark tuan

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, idol! got7, idol! reader

warnings: cursing, explicit sex, takes place in present time with minor flashbacks

summary: mark knew it was game over the minute he saw you. despite being apart from each other for so long, no amount of practice in front of the mirror would've prepared him for the way his heart dropped the moment he saw you walk in. he'd forgotten about the hold you had on him, you; the love of his life, the one that got away.

character preface

mark tuan :

male

age: 29

birthday: september 4, 1993

currently living in arcadia, la county, california, u.s.a

y/n:

female

age: 25

birthday: september 15, 1997

currently living in seoul, south korea

originally from new york city; part time in los angeles

all got7 member info is in present time.

let me know if i should post ch. 01 :)

______________________________________________________________

disclaimer:

slight or recurring mentions of other idols, groups, familiar names.

despite it taking place in present time, with real time events, this story the plot and scenarios are 100% made up

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whats-wild-to-you · 1 year

Text

Gym Buddies

You quickly mumble an excuse when you accidentally enter the men’s locker room.

It’s been a while since you had noticed Jay but you never talked to each other, just awkwardly greeted each other whenever your paths crossed.

“Coming or going?” You ask, casually leaning on the door.

You do your best to keep your eyes away from his chest, but steal a glance whenever he turns his head away.

“Going. I’ve had a busy day and cut my time here short.”

“What a pity.” Quickly you cover your mouth when you realize you were speaking out loud.

Jay notices you’re staring at his tattoos and grins at you.

“Oh well, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon.”

“I hope so.”

Soon you have figured out a pattern. You make sure to go to the gym whenever Jay’s there. After some time you become gym buddies, casually talking while working out.

One day you intentionally bring up that you went on a blind date and watch how he tenses up. Confused, you drop the subject and finish up your workout.

After changing, you head out. Jay is already in the parking lot, waiting for you.

“So, I was wondering if we could hang out sometime. Like, outside of the gym.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like our gym dates but you should see me when I’m not sweating and in gym clothes.”

“Gym dates?”

“Why? Don’t you enjoy them?”

“On the contrary! I enjoy them a lot. And I would very much like to hang out outside the gym with you.”

“Great. Can I have your number?”

With trembling hands you take his phone and put in your number.

“See you then.”

Giggling, you get in your car first and drive off, cautious not to cause an accident since you can hardly focus on the road ahead.

#jay park #park jaybum #park jaebum #park jaebeom #more soju please #more vision #jay park scenarios #jay park imagines #jay park fanfic #khh imagines #khh fanfic #h1ghrmusic #h1ghrgang #aomg jay park #jay park aomg #aomg imagines #aomg scenarios #aomg

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soultiesblog · 2 months

Text

⠀❋ para qualquer inverno

・・jaebeom (got7) + nayeon (twice)

🌷 — psd nature flavor by oprum

o restante dos materiais você encontrará possivelmente aqui ♡

#soultie #spirit fanfiction #spirit fanfics #capa de fanfic #capa para spirit #got7 #capa para fanfic #capa romântica #black and white #twice #kpop edits #jayb #jaebeom #nayeon #capa gif

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jae-daddy · 1 year

Text

mode

one

genre: romance, mature, melo plot: two married people fall in love a/n: i know its written dull, but trust me on this.

You wake up everyday facing the balcony of your apartment.

You never wake up to sunlight creeping in through the space between the blinds in your room. You always wake up just before the alarm, your shoes always placed perfectly so your feet slip into it as you sit on the edge.

Every morning seems the same. The same monotonous day; the same routine. The same twenty steps around your bathroom, the same cups, the same jar holding the teabags. The same toast and eggs, the same same same same same same same same same same same.

The same man always wakes up twenty minutes after you.

You always just happen you be halfway through the door when he enters the kitchen.

It’s the same bus ride to the same glass building. The same cubicle, the same work, same fake smiles and laughs, same stories. Same everything.

Tonight you decide to make stew for dinner. But is it really a decision when you make it at least five times a month?

He comes in at nine tonight.

You tell him to put the dinner away. You get into your bed, and close your eyes.

Sleep never comes easy, but you close your eyes anyway.

Your doctor told you to close your eyes even if you’re not sleeping.

Let the eyes rest.

But you can feel it moving underneath your eyelids, and now you can feel a migraine forming at the front of your head.

You feel the bed dip beside you. You remain on your side, ignoring him. You even out your breath, you are asleep.

I am sleeping. You say it as a mantra over and over again.

It works tonight. He faces the other side, you hear his phone click open.

He stays on that phone forever.

The sounds of the clicking on the keyboard, the endless Tiktoks. Your head is about to burst, you are about to burst.

And just when you cannot take it anymore, he lets out an obnoxious yawn. You ease, and he relaxes and sleeps.

You close your eyes waiting for sleep to take you away, but it does last long.

A few hours, and then you wake up to your balcony again.

The slippers slide onto your feet. Your pink brush remains where you left it yesterday.

The cup you sip your tea from as you stare out the window is the same one as yesterday. You got it as a gift from your sister one birthday. It was one of those horrifically cringe ones that says ‘The Greatest Sister Ever.’

You both had a fight a day before your birthday.

You were slipping into your heels when your husband enters the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he says just like every morning. You give him a small smile.

Normally that is the end of it, but today there is more, “We have to go to dinner tonight.”

You still in your actions and look up to meet his eyes. It was like looking at a stranger but worse, you couldn’t even tell what he was thinking.

But he could read the confusion on your face, “It’s my mum’s birthday.”

You nod, before looking at the calendar behind him. Even from the door you could see the pink marker around the date. You give him another plain smile, “I’ll pick up a gift on the way back.”

“It’s okay,” he says, and you’re thankful for it. “I’ll pick up something.”

“Okay,” you say, and slip your shoes on completely. You stand awkwardly for a second, and he looks at you too. How can you live with someone for twelve months and feel like complete strangers with them?

“Have a good day,” he says. Your lips part, and the silence stretches for a bit too long, but you finally manage,“You too.”

You escape before anymore awkward pleasantries pass between you.

The bus is busy like always. You find a space and smile at the girl already sitting there.

You let out a deep breath, and then inhale. You do it three more times, and a place a hand on your chest. Your heart was beating so fast, but you didn’t know why.

Apart from the mild heart-attack (it wasn’t actually a heart-attack, you googled it), the rest of the day was the same. The court room was the same, you had lunch with the same two girls, at the same lunchroom. The bus ride was the same; awful, humid and tiresome.

But tonight when you went home, you didn’t cook dinner.

Instead you showered, and changed into a pretty pale yellow dress. You did your hair into a nice pretty bun. You put on makeup and the lipstick that matches you so perfectly you save it for special occasions.

You get on your knees and pull out the box with your special heels.

You were going to meet your in-laws, you had to look nice.

Once ready, you took a look in the mirror.

You looked pretty.

How long had it been since you dressed up?

Your husband came soon after. He gave you a small smile as he took you in. You took in the pink wrapped box in his hand, and then your eyes went to the bouquet of flowers in the other.

He placed them both on the table next to the fruit bowl.

He went into the bathroom, and you stared at the flowers.

You wanted flowers too.

Growing up you never wanted to live in an apartment. You wanted to live in a house with a lawn or the country-side, somewhere where you could plant an entire garden. You would plant every flower you could get your hands on. It didn’t even have to look pretty as long as they bloomed you were happy with it.

You made a few attempts to plant in the apartment when you first moved in. The proof of that lies brown and dry in colourful flower pots outside on the balcony.

You didn’t realise you were staring at the flowers the entire time until he emerged from the bedroom.

He looked good.

He was good-looking.

The white shirt and casual blazer you laid out for him, hoping he would wear it, looked good on him.

You didn’t say anything though. He didn’t too, only, “Ready?”

It wasn’t a question really, more like ready or not here we go. He picked up the keys, the gift, and bunch of flowers. You picked up the tiny handbag you prepared for the night and followed him outside.

Maybe Uber rides were more comfortable than this.

The last time you set in one, they asked how your day was at the very least.

This was one of the few rare occasions you and your husband were made to be in each other’s company completely. Normally, the timings never matched up or there was someone else, or some other distraction.

People said this is common in arranged marriages. Reassurances and promises of everything working out were passed out to you like candies to a kid on Halloween.

You just stared out the window, you wished you could put the window down.

You wished you were in an Uber.

Your in-laws were good people.

Your mother-in-law, Jenny, always was in good hopes. She shared the same smile as her son and daughter, but you saw it more on her than anyone else.

Your husband handed you the gift and kept the flowers for himself. You hand her the pink box and she gushes, excitement evident in her voice, but she still reassures you that you shouldn’t have.

You’re polite with them. You smile, you laugh, you talk.

Whenever you’re with them or your own family, or whenever anyone else is around you and your husband, it feels like you’re outside your body. This woman is not you, it’s your husband’s wife.

“My son,” she places a sloppy kiss on your husbands cheek, he grimaces but his smile is bigger making his eyes disappear. Your heart feels like a mini heart-attack again, but its nothing, google said it was nothing.

You hug your sister-in-law Jae-e, instead. She hugs you back tightly, before complementing your lipstick, and your smile is true this time.

Your lipstick was made for you.

“Justin has come a long way,” you agree after Jae-e finishes her fifteen minute monologue about Justin Bieber’s highs and lows. She was a firm supporter of Selena, but she believes love changes and happens where it needs to, and Justin and Haley are together now.

You didn’t know much about Justin, you did back in middle school. Your best friend was a die-hard fan.

“Who’s Justin?” Your husband asks.

“Justin Bieber,” Jae-e rolls her eyes annoyed with her brother. Your sister and you were the same, it was like you were always teenagers no matter how much time passed.

“He only knows one JB,” she slides the comment towards you, you snort slightly, and her brother ignores it.

Or at least he tries to because he begins asking her about her new book.

The betrayal in her eyes is so funny, you had to bite your lip to hide your grin.

“It’ll probably be done before I get the chance to play with mum’s grandchild,” she’s proud of her reply, but instantly regrets it when her mother’s head snaps towards you and your husband.

You are frozen in place, your eyes on the sizzler plate. You wonder if it was still hot; and if so, how much would it burn the big mouthed twat.

“Yes!” Your mother-in-law gushes, and you start screaming inside. You’re surprised no one can hear you, in a way you are lucky no one can. She continues her loud words and each word makes your ears bleed, “WHEN DO I GET TO PLAY WITH MY GRANDCHILD?!”

She goes on and on. Some other couple who got married after you already has a kid. Another just announced their pregnancy.

You sat there staring at the plate, and then at the white table cloth.

White table cloth is so impractical. It basically just highlights all the mistakes a person makes. This family of five does not know how to take out their dishes properly and now there’s stains all over.

It was your father-in-law who finally stepped in, and said “That’s enough. This is not table conversation.”

You liked your father-in-law.

You bow and say goodbye to your in-laws. It was about time.

Your stomach was so full you were going to explode, and the heel straps were cutting into your skin. You were sure your lipstick had faded away by now.

All you wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But you have work tomorrow- no, tomorrow is Saturday!

But you were still excited to feel sleepy, maybe you’ll actually sleep and knock out completely.

Your thoughts got cut-off when you opened the door of your car.

“Oh,” you gasped as you picked up a flower from your seat. You showed it to your husband who stood there on his side of the car. “This must have fallen out.”

He bit his lip and then nodded, “Must have.”

He entered the car.

You were smiling when you buckled into your seat. You hummed along to songs playing, and looked out the window. You were okay with having the windows up.

The entire ride, you twirled the flower between your fingers, the yellow petals fluttering with each turn.

You wanted flowers.

When you get home, you head straight to the bathroom. The twenty steps increase by three as you place the flower into the cupholder. You stare it for a good minute.

You strip, shower and change into your pyjamas.

You watch as your husband as he goes into the bathroom.

Tonight you wanted it. Tonight you were not going to fall asleep.

Tonight you watched the light beneath the door. Tonight you didn’t realise as sleep took over you.

You woke up the next day. No alarm.

Your slippers sliding onto your feet. Twenty steps around your bathroom.

The cup- oh.

You halted in your steps.

The cup on the table, breakfast spread out and ready.

Your husband putting on his shoes as he’s rushing out the door. He looks frantic. You want to call out to him, what do you call him?

He catches sight of you before that, “Office emergency.”

You nod, smiling, telling him its okay.

He hesitates, and then the door closes behind him.

You look over the breakfast.

Same cup. Same bread and toast. Same egg. Same table. Same room. Same apartment.

But somehow different.

#jaebum #jaebeom #im jaebum #lim jaebum #lim jaebeom #im jaebeom #im #got7 #angst #arranged marriage #fanfic #series #story #love #jaedaddy #fluff #smut

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shykpop · 10 months

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Got7 icons

Like or reblog,If you save/use

Credits always welcome

Ask is open

psd: @colour-source

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atredesign · 3 months

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hihihi

#jjp #jaebeom #jinyoung #got7 #jjproject #capa de fanfic #fanfic

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doyouknowbtsswag · 3 months

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Surprise Sign |Jinyoung|

I smiled looking at myself in the mirror at the concert venue. The stadium was already loud from the group of people fan girling about their biases or plans to do after the concert. I finally walked out of the bathroom and slowly walked to my seat. I'm supposed to be surprising my boyfriend of many years Park Jinyoung. We haven't seen each other in months because of his touring. He begged me to go with him but as much as I wanted to I couldn't. Here I was now standing in my seat close to the stage. Only Jackson knew I was coming to the concert to make sure I was able to get front-seat tickets. I smiled thinking of his reaction along with the rest of the group. I looked around and saw everyone go to their seats as the concert started. I proudly held up my sign that said 'I Don't Have To Go To Heaven To Find A Angel Park Jinyoung Is In Front Of Me' which people around me complimented my sign while laughing. I watched the lights go on and shine on the members as they went on stage. I watched in amazement at the boys' performance. Each step was calculated and they were all in sync with each other. Their voices were steady even though they were dancing. I lifted the sign up as Jackson looked over at me during lullaby winking which made the girls around me scream.

During the concert Jackson looked my way trying to get his fellow members to catch the memo eventually Jaebeom looked over and spotted me. I grinned waving the sign at him which made him smile holding back from laughing which confused Youngjae who looked at him confused as Jaebeom whispered in his ear. Youngjae looked at me laughing lightly which made Mark confused. Let's just say each member one by one noticed my presence and the sign I held up. It was Bambam who laughed the loudest after they finished singing Call My Name that caught Jinyoung's attention. He looked around confused until he finally ended up seeing me. He walked closer thinking he was hallucinating. He had been more nervous once he started the tour since you usually were there to hug him and give him little kisses before he had to leave for award shows. The girls around me started jumping around and screaming his name. But his eyes were trained on me he seemed like he wanted to cry but instead, he made a comment as if I was just a normal fan.

"Who here thinks I'm an angel?" He said through the mic as everyone screamed.

"Hey! He dressed up like a killer doll how is that angelic?!" Jackson said pointing his finger at Jinyoung to interact with the crowd. "I think I'm more of an angel"

"You dressed like the devil that one time" Jaebeom pointed out.

"The only person here would be me in my opinion," Yugyeom said. "If we're talking about Halloween costumes"

"You were an invisible cloak," Youngjae said. "I think I'm the winner don't you think" Yongjae said pointing his mic at the crowd who screamed yes.

"I feel offended," Jackson said dramatically.

I laughed at the whole thing and saw Jinyoung stealing some glances my way. After the concert was over I lingered around waiting for Jackson to come get me from the stands. Once the coast was clear Jackson ran out quickly and grabbed my hand as we ran backstage. The boys all gave me a hug and told me how shocked they were to see me since it was all the way across the world.

"He's here," Youngjae said as Jinyoung ran up to hug me. He wasn't that much of a PDA guy but he didn't care all he cared about was seeing you in the flesh.

"You're supposed to tell me this stuff, not Jackson," He said hiding his face in my neck which made me laugh a little.

"I couldn't tell you since it was a surprise" I smiled.

He pulled me closer and rocked back and forth. He nuzzled his face in my neck and ran his fingers through my hair. I smiled feeling him relax with every minute ticking by.

"You don't know how much I missed you" He mumbled giving a light kiss on my neck.

"I missed you too," I said his grip on me still tight.

"How did you manage to get here?" He asked pulling away from the hug.

"I'm on break so I decided to come see you perform"

"Are you staying around for long?" He asked.

"Hopefully I'll have enough money"

"I'll pay for it you can stay backstage and everything"

"I'd feel bad though" I sighed.

"Love, you and I both know I can afford you being here, hell it might be free if I ask the managers" At this point, Jinyoung was pleading with me to stay and it started working.

"I-" I sighed. "Are you sure?"

"Positive"

"Fine" I smiled and as soon as that word left my mouth I was picked up and spun in the air. "Jinyoung put me down" I laughed.

"Thank god your staying" He smiled. "I don't think I'd last another month"

"Well I'm here now"

"And your not leaving my side ever" He wrapped one of his arms around my waist and he placed his hand on my cheek with the other.

"Wouldn't dream of it" I smiled wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I love you," He said gently kissing me on the lips. I smiled into the kiss returning the gesture.

"I love you too" I pulled away resting my head on his chest as gently rubbed my back.

There was a knock on the door and we both looked over. The door creaked open and Youngjae popped in.

"Hey love birds, sorry to interrupt but Jinyoung has to come with me" Jinyoung looked at him confused. "Team meaning"

"Alright, I'm coming" Jinyoung turned to me. "Don't leave okay?"

"Alright" I smiled and watched him leave he winked and closed the door behind him.

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mykoreanlove · 2 months

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GOT7

🖤 JINYOUNG

things that made him run to you // coming back to you // .starved // I wanna know everything, all about you

🖤 JACKSON

on being real // 🥃 realizations // on Kinjaz // daddy fever // acts of intimacy // nightmares // backseat love. // conversations with love // AM hours // you're sick

🖤 JAEBEOM

can I see you tonight?

🖤 YOUNGJAE

spillthetea.fm

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jadededge · 1 year

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Tear You Apart | GOT7xOC

Pairing: GOT7 x OC

Genre: Demon/Mafia AU, Romance, Smut

Rating: M

Wattpad | AO3 (will likely always update these 2 places first)

Navigation: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

"It's just up the block here." Jaebeom said walking with Yugyeom trailing just behind.

On this particular morning, the leader and the youngest were on their way to confront a member of the organization about stealing. They'd probably leave with a finger or two. Make sure he got the message.

A slight breeze blows and Yugyeom stops. Jaebeom turns and looks at him, "what's wrong?"

"Don't you smell that." He sniffs the air. "Fuuck. It smells so good."

Jaebeom raises a brow wondering what the hell YG was talking about but then he smells it too. Jesus. He thought. Funny coming from him but that's how good it smelled. "Yeah I do. Who is that?"

The other mission abandoned, they scan the street for the source. As they look across the way, they spot you walking. It had to be her. They speed to the other side of the road and stalk behind her.

The good thing about being a hybrid is how well you can blend in. Not only were they human in many aspects but they were predators as well. Able to conceal their true selves and built to hunt. She never even noticed them.

They follow her the rest of the afternoon and finally call it a day but not before they get one of their guys to continue following her and report back.

"We've got to try to do this differently. If she gets scared, she'll run." Jaebeom explains to Yugyeom in the car on the way home. "It'll be so much better if she's willing. No compulsion. No holding her captive. None of that."

"Just a little light stalking." Yugyeom quibs with a small laugh but ultimately agrees, "you're right hyung but I want her so bad. What if she says no?" His eyes go dark.

Jaebeom sighs, "then we let her go." His hands tighten on the wheel, knuckles white. Can we do that, Can I do that? He knew that they needed to be better.

Every potential new mate for them ended up broken because it was all just too much. The manipulations, the compulsions, the constant attention. In the end, it broke them all, whether mentally or physically. And they were lonely. Fooling around with someone to satisfy their needs was nothing. Yes, it satiated the hunger, the thirst but only temporarily. They knew they needed to find the one.

As if reading his mind Yugyeom comforts Jaebeom, "but I think this is it. She's just too perfect not to be."

Once home with their brothers, they explain to them what they smelled. What they saw.

"When can we meet her?" Jackson asks excitedly.

"We don't even know her name yet." Jaebeom rolls his eyes. "Think we need to get the basics first."

#kpop fanfic #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #got7 smut #smut #jaebeom fanfiction #jaebeom smut #yugyeom smut #yugyeom fanfic #jackson fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #mark tuan fanfic #youngjae fanfic #bambam fanfic #slight yandere #kpop smut

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limjaeseven · 6 months

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Blood Red Love

Pairing: Jinyoung x Yugyeom

Genre: Horror, Angst, Hannibal!AU

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Cannibalism, lots of death and gore, graphic description of murder and dead bodies

Word Count: 5,919

Summary: Yugyeom should have remembered that if something seems too good to be true, it probably was, and that something, or better, someone came in the shape of a tall, handsome, psychiatrist with an impeccable taste in fashion and a penchant for the unspeakable.

[a/n]: Written about half a century late for @flurrys-creativity's supernatural collab. This was really fun to write, I appreciate the incredible sense you have of coming up with collabs themed around the exact shows I'm obsessing over at any point of time.

Yugyeom should have known better. He worked as a cop for years, he was working for the NIS for god’s sake. If there was someone who should have seen this coming, it should have been him. He had managed to miss every red flag till it came kicking his door down.

Six months prior

The day was cold enough that Yugyeom had to pull out his thickest jacket. Dusting it off took a while, he had an impressive tolerance for the cold so it got little use. Donning it, he bid his dog a quick goodbye in the form of a pat on its head before heading off in his beat up Volvo.

His new job at the National Intelligence Service was proving to be nothing short of trouble. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks, images of his investigation victims haunting him. His “perfect empathy” had always been there, but it became an asset when he got into law enforcement and made a bit of a name for himself.

That’s when he met Lim Jaebeom, director of the Behavioural Science Unit and the reason behind Yugyeom’s torment. He had heard of Yugyeom’s skill of being able to perfectly recreate the happenings at a crime scene and recruited him to consult for a few minor cases.

Yugyeom had wondered why he had been called for it, because the cases were easy to solve, there was no way Jaebeom hadn't figured them out on his own. Well, if there's one thing Yugyeom has learned about himself, it's that he's bad at seeing things coming his way.

They didn't cross paths again for years. Yugyeom had quit the police and joined the NIS training academy as a professor. Jaebeom had dropped by one of his lectures where he offered, more like forced upon, Yugyeom a job as a profiler for a high profile case he was working on.

And that was what led him to his predicament where he's spending one of the coldest days of the year at the NIS building instead of being at home with his dog. Jaebeom wanted him to stick around after they solved the first case and it wasn't like Yugyeom had a choice. What Jaebeom wanted, he got.

“So, what does it look like?” The Director asked, having handed Yugyeom a dossier full of photos of their latest case.

“An act of justice.” Yugyeom closed his eyes and tried to concentrate but it wasn't working. “I'll need to see the scene for more, the photos don’t give me a sense of the space.”

“Well we’re basically snowed in at this point so try harder. We don't know if or when he’s going to strike again so we need to figure this out quick,” Jaebeom snapped. Yugyeom could feel a headache radiating its way up the back of his skull. Realising that his presence was probably not helping, Jaebeom left him alone to brood in his office, promising to return soon.

Sighing, Yugyeom went back to examining the photos to better understand the geography of the house so that he could piece the series of events together. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture himself in the room, turning back time on the elements around him till he was envisioning the moments before the act took place.

He found himself across from Mrs Yoo, sitting on a plush sofa in her living room. Looking down, he saw a revolver in his right hand, a glass of wine in the other. The way Mrs Yoo’s eyes shone looking at him, it had to be motherly, a mix of care, kindness and fear. She was afraid of what he had become, knowing full well that it was her fault.

Yugyeom spun the wine in his hands gently before breathing its aroma in and taking a small sip, setting the glass carefully on the side table after.

“I despise the gentleness in Mrs Yoo’s eyes. They remind me of too much pain. I left because of those eyes, because of the pity that drips from them. I need those eyes to stop staring at me, I need everyone to stop looking at me.” Yugyeom examines the gun in his hand and raises it to be level with Mrs Yoo’s head.

“I stare straight into Mrs Yoo’s eyes as she trembles in fear in front of me. She’s begging for a forgiveness she knows I can’t afford. It takes a single shot to pierce right through her left eye and end both of our misery.”

Yugyeom sighs as he opens his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands as he tries to calm his breathing. He calls Jaebeom and the staff back into the room before asking, “Does Mrs Yoo have any kids on the record, someone old enough to own a firearm?”

Youngjae, a member of the forensic team, looked through the file in his hand before replying, “Yeah, a son. He’s 25, works at a tech firm on the other side of the country. We looked into him, he doesn’t seem to have been in the area on the day of the incident.”

“Look into him again just in case,” Jaebeom said before turning to Yugyeom, “Any other possible leads?”

“Maybe an illegitimate child? It’s someone who looked up to her as a mother figure but felt betrayed. Someone into their adulthood with years to have ruminated on their feelings on Mrs Yoo and turned it into a carefully plotted murder.”

“Look into the shooting ranges nearby, see if you can link any of their regulars near the area.” Jaebeom added, pointing at the image of Mrs Yoo’s body and how cleanly the bullet had hit her eye. “Too good of a shot for an amateur.”

Yugyeom stood there, eyes wide open, feeling rattled. Doing this was hard enough when he was at the crime scene but having to construct everything just out of photos drained him of everything. He slumped into the nearest chair and let his head roll back as he tried to calm himself down. Jaebeom gave him a pat on the shoulder before leaving him alone in the lab.

It had taken him a long time to learn the best way to come down from his “sessions” without having a panic attack or scaring those around him. Some space and a series of breathing exercises were what he finally settled on, concentrating on a spot on the ceiling to keep himself focused. He was just about done when a knock on the lab door pulled him out of his head.

“Mr Kim?” The man asked. He was dressed to the nines in a three piece suit, hair perfectly styled, eyes sharp as he watched Yugyeom.

Nodding, Yugyeom stood up. “And you would be?”

“Park Jinyoung. Jaebeom’s an old friend, he wanted my help with the case.”

“You don’t look like law enforcement.”

“Oh no, these hands weren’t meant for firearms.” Jinyoung said, holding them up. “People used to say they’d be good for paintbrushes but I drifted towards scalpels first, then towards people’s minds.”

“Psychiatrist for such a low priority case?”

Jinyoung pressed a hand thoughtfully to his chin, “Would you be here if it was low priority?”

“This is not the only case of its kind, is it?” Yugyeom asked, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly.

“Fifth one in a row. Each in a different state along the east coast, all women in their late forties or early fifties. No seeming connections between them.” Jinyoung walked across the room to a table piled high with files before pulling a thin one out. “This is everything that could be found in common. We don’t even know if it’s one killer or multiple different ones.”

“And why didn’t Jaebeom tell me any of this?” Yugyeom felt anger simmer inside him. Jaebeom had done this too many times for him to be surprised but it didn’t affect him any less.

“Too many theories floating around the office. He wanted a fresh perspective.” The table was now littered with tens of photos, each one different in setting but the same in execution. “What you saw was the first one that happened three months ago. That’s why he wanted you here, because there’s no crime scene to see.”

“When was the last one?”

“Last week. Each murder has had between two and three weeks between them. Jaebeom was hoping to catch the next one before it happened but he wasn’t getting anywhere.”

“What’s your theory, Doctor?”

Jinyoung rifled through the pictures to find one of each victim, photographed from a similar angle, that of the chair opposite to where the women sat. “Odds say it was all the same killer, but it feels too intimate for that. How many years does a young boy spend at home? How many of those would he have to build a bond that burned him when it got cut?”

“They all knew each other. They planned this together. They all had to be good enough shots to hit exactly the eye from a decent distance and also have the resources to clean up after themselves.”

“Maybe the reason why Jaebeom couldn’t understand it was because he kept looking outside for answers.”

Watching cops getting arrested would never stop being unnerving to Yugyeom. After confirming the details with Jinyoung they both went to Jaebeom with their findings. It wasn’t an easy search but since they knew the killers would be inside the law enforcement system, they had enough connections.

“All foster children, brought into seemingly perfect households.” Yugyeom said as he read over the final report. He sat in Jinyoung’s office across from the man himself, a glass of scotch in his hand. “Abused for being troubled, sent to police academies to learn discipline.”

“It’s not incredibly difficult to find those of a similar disposition once inside. The cruelty of the academy breeds resentment and the resources to get away with one’s darkest desires.”

“Why left eyes though?”

Jinyoung stood up from his seat and walked over to one of the bookshelves that lined his walls. He pulled one out and handed it to Yugyeom. “Any luck reading Chinese?”

Yugyeom chuckled and flipped through the book. “My mom had one of these, she tried to get me to read it but I was never any good.”

“It’s a common text around these parts, stories, traditions and superstitions. It has a part on the twitching of eyes. Left eyes signify life in women.”

“A bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but revenge blinds. It can never be measured, for it always has alterior motives.” Jinyoung took a long whiff of his wine before sipping it. “The best poet loves poetry for it’s own sake.”

“Well, glad this lot weren’t poets.” Yugyeom said.

Jinyoung laughed and raised his glass. “To amateurs, then.” Yugyeom grinned and raised his own glass. “Could I tempt you to dinner with me this weekend? Something celebratory for our accomplishment.”

“Will you tell me which wine I should bring so that I don’t pick the wrong one?”

“Find a good Chianti. Saturday, eight o’clock. I’ll have my assistant deliver you a formal invite.”

Yugyeom felt woefully underdressed when Jinyoung opened the door, dressed in another perfectly tailored three piece suit with a tastefully patterned tie. He wished he had taken his blazer to wear over his full sleeve shirt rolled up to the elbows and slacks.

“I hope this will do,” He said, extending the bottle of wine.

Jinyoung barely glanced at the label before clicking his tongue. Yugyeom felt a shiver down his spine, a sudden fear of disappointing the doctor gripping him. Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrowed for a second before they softened into a teasing smile.

“This will do perfectly. Please, come in.” Jinyoung stepped away and Yugyeom was met with an extravagant living room, decorated with utmost care. The doctor seemed like a man of exquisite taste and wealth, unafraid of indulging in the luxuries of life.

Jinyoung led him to the dining room, where a long glass topped table took up much of the space. It was decorated with an elaborate flower and fruit arrangement in the centre, with two places set up, one at the head of the table, and one to its right.

“Please take a seat,” Jinyoung said before disappearing into the kitchen. He returned with a decanter of wine in one hand and two plates artfully balanced on the other, one on his palm and the other on his wrist. With a flourish, he filled both of their glasses before setting a plate in front of Yugyeom and one in his own place before sitting down. “Stuffed Roast Heart with Devilled Kidneys and Garlic Liver Paté.”

Yugyeom stared at the food in wonder, not having seen such a beautifully plated dish before. “What is it that you can’t do, Doctor?”

“You flatter me too much, I’m merely a man of a few interests.”

“This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten, Doctor. I don’t think this comes just from being a hobbyist.”

Jinyoung smiled and sipped his wine before answering, “I started cooking for my sister young, then it became a passion, if you will.”

“Well I do hope we work together more often in the future if it means you’ll call me over for dinner every time.”

“It would be an absolute pleasure,” Jinyoung said before holding his glass up for a toast. “To Lim Jaebom, an eternal friend and pain.”

“To Jaebeom indeed.”

The joy of the night together was quickly sobered in the morning when Yugyeom woke up to Jaebeom calling him early in the morning.

“Dr Park will be picking you up soon, we need you two here stat.”

He barely had the time to get himself out of bed and dressed before Jinyoung showed up, looking as classy as ever, dressed slightly down in a shirt with no tie and a sport coat. “Did you eat anything?” Jinyoung asked as they got into the car.

“Nope, Jaebeom called me ten minutes ago,” said Yugyeom. “Also why’re you here? I could have gone myself.”

“I offered since your house was on the way.” Jinyoung paused for a second, glancing at Yugyeom before continuing, “And Jaebeom thought it’d be best if I was with you at the scene.”

Lim Jaebeom was hard headed, short tempered, rude, but he was also almost always right. Yugyeom was glad he had Jinyoung with him when he arrived at the scene. There was a small group of officers standing outside the local art museum looking rather green and it made sense as they stepped in.

The hall was large, lined with paintings along the walls. The centre of it featured only two pieces, well three now. Between the two displays, like a sculpture, stood a body. It was stripped naked, posed like a ballet dancer, one leg slightly raised, arms up in the air, held up by red ropes that hung from the ceiling. The body was so carefully positioned that it only rested on the ground by the toes of one foot.

Most notably, though, what captured the eye first was the fact that the corpse’s chest was cut open, split down the middle and flayed open, the ribs slightly pried apart to show a hole in the middle, filled with a small bouquet of flowers where the heart should have been.

“Okay after last night’s dinner this is probably not the best thing to happen,” Yugyeom mumbled, feeling light headed. “Sure you’re not serving up human hearts are you, Doctor?”

“Only the finest beef, Mr Kim. I can put you through to my butcher if you’d wish to confirm.” They both laughed a little to ease the tension but the glares from those around quieted them quickly.

Jaebeom stormed in immediately after, his voice loud and frustrated. “Get to work, the two of you. I need this sorted out and fast.”

“Any other similar cases anytime recently that you’d like to tell me about?” Yugyeom asked, trying his best to not sound accusatory.

“With parts of the body missing? Yes. With this level of… what do I even call it? Craftsmanship? Not so much.”

Jinyoung interjected before things had the chance to go awry. “Noted, Jaebeom. Lets just work with the assumption that this is a one off thing first, then we’ll try connecting the dots.”

Jaebeom nodded before leaving the two to examine the body. Youngjae stayed with them to brief them about the latest developments. “Jeong Jisub, 42. Luxury car salesman. Unmarried and orphaned. Wasn’t very well known even to his own neighbours and not well liked by those who did recognise him.”

“Unlikable doesn’t mean having enemies,” Yugyeom mumbled. “This doesn’t feel personal.”

“What, flowers are impersonal now?”

“What Mr Kim is trying to say, Mr Choi,” Jinyoung answered, addressing Youngjae, “Is that while the gesture of the flowers and the body may be symbolic and personal, the murder itself. or at least the choice of victim doesn’t feel so.”

Yugyeom nodded, adding, “There was a lot of care put into the act of rigging up the body, but it was the same to the killer as making a sculpture. The marble itself is immaterial to obtaining the final outcome.” He walked around the body, examining every minor detail. “Check the back, the kidneys should also be missing. This isn’t just art, it’s a message.” He turned to Jinyoung, “Doctor, you’re sure this wasn’t you, right?”

Jinyoung put up his hands, wrists pressed together. “You’ve caught me officer, take me away.” His tone was light and teasing, matching Yugyeom’s.

“Why kidneys?” Youngjae asked as he looked at the back of the body and noticed the small sutures present there that corresponded with where the organs would be present. The killer had carefully cut open the back to extract them and stitched it back up almost imperceptibly.

“Two organs of humanity, two organs of love,” Jinyoung said after a minute of pondering. “The Egyptians left the heart and kidneys inside when mummifying their corpses and many traditions considered the kidneys the locus of affection.”

“The flowers, what do they signify?” Yugyeom asked Youngjae.

The forensic analyst looked down at his file before answering, “All imply something along the lines of romantic interest, infatuation, crushes.”

“Our killer seems to have fallen in love.”

“Why ballet? Why the flowers of infatuation but organs of love?” Yugyeom wondered out loud as he once again sat at Jinyoung’s side at his dining table. Jinyoung had offered to cook lunch since they’d wrapped up early and Jaebeom wouldn’t be available to talk to till the next day.

“Some things, emotions, people are both delicate and sturdy at once. They’re fragile, easily disturbed, hurt, broken, but if nurtured correctly, they blossom powerfully, often dangerously.” Yugyeom felt Jinyoung staring into his soul as he spoke those words.

“Wait a minute—” He started, getting up from his seat abruptly. “You’re not here for Jaebeom or the cases are you?”

“Mr Kim, please, we can talk this out cordially—”

“No, you’re not getting into my head anymore. We’re done.”

“Yugyeom, Jaebeom asked me to do it out of concern for your well being. He told me about the dark places you retreat to after the cases. How the darkness from the killers’ minds seeps into your own and haunts you. How you lose yourself in the process.” Jinyoung’s eyes looked pleading as he spoke, “I want to help you.”

Yugyeom chuckled bitterly, “Help me or Jaebeom?”

“You, Yugyeom. All Jaebeom needs is a report saying that you’re fit enough for duty. I have that prepared here,” Jinyoung left the dining room for a moment before returning with a file. “You have the choice now. Tell me to stop and I’ll tell Jaebeom that my work is done.”

“Tuesdays.” Yugyeom mumbled into his drink.

“Pardon me?”

Grabbing his jacket, Yugeom moved to leave the room but turned just as he was about to step out, “Sessions on Tuesdays, I get off work early.”

It was difficult for Yugyeom to look Jinyoung or Jaebeom in the eye without getting angry knowing what they were doing to him, but the case forced them into the same room, the body on a table in front of them, pictures of the crime scene scattered on the one on the side.

“Yugyeom, what did you see yesterday?” Jaebeom asked.

Closing his eyes, Yugyeom envisioned himself back in the art gallery, the body that was once hung in front of him now lying on the floor next to him, not yet rigged up.

“I never saw Mr Jeong as a person. His life was worth less than an insect crushed under my foot. His death was quick and painless. I would have dragged it longer if I’d so desired, but I had other priorities. This display was everything. I needed it to be perfect.

“I spent hours making sure the pose was correct, rigging ropes carefully to hold the body in place. I placed the flowers in last, the finishing touch to a labour of love. A proposal, a request for courtship, proof of the power and devotion I held in my hands.”

Moments of silence ticked by as Yugyeom collected his thoughts. “It’s a letter, Jaebeom. The killer wanted someone in particular to see this, someone who’d understand what it meant. He wanted them to know what he was capable of.”

“Who in the world would appreciate a dead body with missing organs as a letter? Another killer? Don’t tell me we have two killers to deal with.”

“You said there were other cases with organs missing, right?” Jinyoung asked. Jaebeom nodded and handed him a case file.

“Twelve deaths over two years. All of them displayed one way or the other, clearly meant to be found. They were all far more detached than this one, though, more a show of ruthlessness than art.” Jaebeom thought for a moment before adding, “Don’t tell me our new killer is in love with our old one, that might just make me quit. I’ve worked tirelessly to catch the ‘Butcher’ as we call him, I don’t have time for another one.”

“I don’t think these are two killers, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung said, and Yugyeom nodded in assent. “I think the Butcher met someone who softened him.”

“All of these cases show someone with expertise with bodies, a doctor, nurse or mortician of some kind. One with a build large enough to carry them around and access to medical supplies and some sort of space to do the dissection,” Yugyeom noted, rifling through the photos.

“What does he do with the organs? And it's not just organs, some of them have flesh missing. Sometimes just sections, other times an entire limb,” asked Jaebeom.

Everyone turned to Jinyoung as the resident doctor, “Surgical trophies, maybe? He could be keeping them as a personal collection, a piece of every person he’s killed.” Turning to Youngjae who was working on the body he asked, “Anything in common between all the victims?”

“Nothing we could figure out. The gender division is pretty even, ages stick between eighteen and fifty. Some had families, others no one. They feel extremely random, half the victims originally from different parts of the country but all of them turned up in the general area of this city and two over.”

“I need time to think, Jaebeom. Start your search with medical professionals in the area, I’ll give you more details as soon as I can.”

Despite Yugyeom’s wishes, he ended up in Jinyoung’s office that evening. The scotch in his hand was the only thing keeping him sane, especially as he sat facing the doctor.

“I want this to be a place where you can be honest, Yugyeom. I am contractually obliged to not utter a word outside these walls. You can tell me whatever’s on your mind. I’m not here to judge, but listen.”

“You’ve lied to me before, why should I trust you?”

“Lies of omission are not the same, are they? But I’m not here to defend that. I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to figure out a better way for you to open up to me, but it was still wrong of me to. Would you be open to starting fresh?”

Yugyeom thought for a second before nodding. He pushed himself off his chair and started strolling around the office. The space was large, with a tall ceiling and a staircase leading up to a mezzanine lined with bookshelves end to end. Ladders rested against the bookcases on both floors, allowing access to the books stored up high.

Stopping by the nearest ladder, Yugyeom turned his back to it, resting a leg on the lowest step and leaning back against it. “This killer,” he started, “he makes me feel so many emotions.”

Jinyoung sat silently, his eyes expectant, waiting for Yugyeom to open up to him.

“I’m equal parts horrified and fascinated by him.” Yugyeom sighed and took a large swig of his drink. “I don’t know why I’m saying this but for a moment it felt like that letter was for me.”

Crossing one leg on top of the other, Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, “And why did it feel like that?”

“Jaebeom said that the person the Butcher is in love with, has to be a killer or someone who understands his work. Looking at the body, I could feel the emotions the Butcher put into it, I could understand the effort he went into to put it up there. It just felt like it was made for me, then. Like he knew I’d see it, that I’d understand him because that’s my job. To put myself into the heads of those who kill and find them inside there. Not see them as cold blooded killers but as people with motivations, desires, wants, needs. Maybe he hoped I’d see beyond the body, the murder, and see him in his art.”

Jinyoung stood up and joined Yugyeom near the ladder, standing close enough that Yugyeom got a strong whiff of the doctor’s perfume, a classy, masculine scent, much like the man himself. “What did you see of him?”

The image of the killer in Yugyeom’s head was blurry at best, but seeing the body, it felt like Yugyeom knew him. “A strong, skilled man. A bit traditional, trying to prove himself as the provider and caretaker but not one to be held down by norms. He kills not for lowly reasons of revenge but because he merely can. He sees his work as art, even when its cold and lifeless, he still wants it to be a spectacle.” Yugyeom stopped for a moment, arranging his thoughts. “He’s playing god.”

Those words hung between the two of them as they took them in. “What does that mean, Yugyeom? What does it mean to the killer?”

“He sees himself as above man. He wasn’t decorating the body, he was elevating it. He wants the person he likes to see what he’s capable of, how he can make something as repulsive as a dead body to art that moves.”

“Then why the trophies? Wouldn't that be uplifting the remnants of the murders a bit too much?” Jinyoung asked, pushing Yugyeom to think harder. “What could he be doing with the organs that would put himself above them?”

“I don’t know,” Yugyeom admitted. “That’s the one thing that doesn’t make sense. But I think they have something to do with the confession too.”

“Do you think that person will like it? Will they accept the courtship?”

“I do.”

Yugyeom tried his best to explain everything they’ve figured out to Jaebeom without the detail of how he saw a little too much in the Butcher’s work. It didn’t help narrow their search much but helped them build a more detailed profile of the killer. This left Yugyeom and Jinyoung free till more evidence came up while Jaebeom’s team worked on finding suspects.

“I’m heading back to the training centre, I’ve missed too many lectures,” Yugyeom said as they wrapped up their meeting.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday then,” Jinyoung said with a soft smile. They walked out of the building together and Jinyoung helped Yugyeom get into his car before waving him off.

For the first time in two weeks Yugyeom felt himself breathe. He was, even if temporarily, free of the cases and everything related to them. Driving had always been a comforting activity for Yugyeom, giving him the space and time to think for himself. He had two hours before his lecture so he decided to just use the time driving around town and maybe grab something to eat.

As he drove, he let his thoughts wander, but it kept coming back to case. There had to be something that he was missing. The question the doctor asked still bugged him. What was the Butcher doing with the organs and flesh? Surgical trophies make sense but doesn’t explain all the cases. What would he do with chunks of meat from the back, on either side of the spine?

That’s when it hit him. Yugyeom slammed the brakes on his car and pressed his head into the steering wheel. Angry horns from behind got him to snap out for a second and he pulled the car up by the side of the road and let the world stop around him.

Meat. Of course he saw the victims as less than himself. He saw them as pigs, animals meant to be grown just enough to be killed and taken apart for personal enjoyment. Yugyeom felt himself getting sick as he thought of the Butcher, of himself in the killer’s mind, eating his spoils.

He needed Jinyoung to know when he’d realised. He couldn’t deal with the thoughts alone and so he turned the car back around and drove to the doctor’s house.

Ringing the bell didn’t reward him with an answer. The door didn’t open regardless of how long he waited. That meant that either the doctor was still at his office or Yugyeom would have to wait a while for him to return from wherever he was. Just as he was about to turn away to try the office, he felt the impulse to try turning the knob on the door and he saw the door open under his fingers.

A flash of panic swept through him as he wondered if the doctor was in trouble. He didn’t seem the type to just leave his front door open. Reaching to his side, Yugyeom pulled out the gun that he’d been allowed to keep now that he was back in service. He tiptoed through the ground floor and found nothing. The house was seemingly empty.

He was about to climb the stairs to the first floor when he heard a sound. Footsteps from somewhere below him. Searching around the house, he tried to find where the way to the basement could be, till he found a door in the kitchen that looked like any other cabinet door. It led him down a set of steps to a metal room, designed much like the forensic lab at the NIS.

Turning the corner into the room, Yugyeom held his gun up but felt his grip loosening at the sight in front of him.

On a metal table lay Lim Jaebeom, very clearly dead. “Took you long enough,” A familiar voice called from behind him, forcing Yugyeom further into the room to turn to face it.

He should have known it was Jinyoung all along. It was way too obvious and that’s exactly why he missed it. “Why?” was the only thing Yugyeom could think of asking.

“You already know, Yugyeom. You explained it all to me yourself yesterday.” Jinyoung walked closer to Yugyeom despite the gun pointed squarely at his chest.

“And you thought I’d like all of this? That I’d say yes?” Yugyeom’s hands were shaking as he tried to hold his ground.

Jinyoung reached out to wrap his hand around the barrel of the gun and push Yugyeom’s arms down and out of the way. He used his other hand to grip the side of Yugyeom’s face. “I think you already have,” he whispered.

“No! I’m not a monster like you!” Yugyeom shouted as he pulled himself free of Jinyoung’s grip.

“Am I a monster? You’ve seen the inside of my head. You’ve seen what’s there. Can you look at all of that and still call me a monster?”

“Why kill Jaebeom though, I thought he was your friend!”

Jinyoung glanced at the body with a look of inconvenience, not regret. “An unfortunate casualty. I needed insurance, Yugyeom. I’m a simple man, if I can’t have what I want, I’ll burn it all down.” He looked at Yugyeom thoughtfully before continuing, “You know what I’m capable of. Walk out of here and you get framed for the murder of not only Lim Jaebeom but of all the Butcher’s victims. A perfect liar, who had access to everything he needed to carry his killings out, with medic training from his days with the police. No one would believe your innocence, I’ve made sure of that.”

Or you can stay with me. We put Jaebeom’s body up together, a proof of our courtship and then we run away. I have enough money for us to settle down anywhere in the world and never be bothered again.” He once again held Yugyeom’s face, who was shaken to his bones as he processed everything Jinyoung was saying. “You see me for who I am, not for who you want me to be. Stay, please.”

Yugyeom felt his knees weakening as a flood of emotions washed over him. He realised that some part of him had known since he saw the Butcher’s victim for the first time. He knew it was Jinyoung, that it was meant for him, and that he’d accepted the courtship.

“You knew that I wouldn’t be able to say no to you, insurance or not,” Yugyeom said.

“I had to cut off the ropes that held you here. Jaebeom would have tracked you down wherever you were if I’d left him alive.” Jinyoung held Yugyeom as he broke down and fell to his knees, finally giving himself entirely to Jinyoung.

“I’ll stay, I’ll see you for who you are,” Yugyeom whispered, “If you promise to hold dear the darkness in me too.”

“I promise.”

#got7 #got7 fanfic #got7writerscollective #got7 jaebeom #got7 jayb #got7 yugyeom #got7 jinyoung #yugyeom #jinyoung #jingyeom

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