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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.

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yiensaintlaurent · 1 year

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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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soultiesblog · 2 months

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⠀❋ 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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vad-hander · 2 years

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GOT7

NO NAME

pairing: idol!Jaebeom x reader

others: idol!Youngjae

genre: one-shot, smut, fluff, established relationships, domestic

warnings: dom!Jaebeom sub!reader switched positions, teasing, orgasm denial, unprotected sex

READ HERE

JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

pairing: Jaebeom x reader

others: Jeno

genre: series, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers

warnings: break up (with Jeno), drinking, slowburn

NO NAME

pairing: Jinyoung x reader

others: NCT Johnny

genre: series, smut, fluff, angst

warnings: abuse, depression, toxic friendship, established relationships, lovers to strangers, mentions of self harm, messed up everything (you'll get it as you read it)

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dontbekoifish · 2 years

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The Sky Prince (1/3)

Pairing: Duffi!Jaebeom x f!reader (future chapters), slight Muska!Jinyoung x f!reader

Genre: Angst, some fluff

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, death, violence, mentions of murder, injuries, toxic relationships (chapter specific)

Word count: 3684 (chapter specific)

Summary: Maybe Jinyoung was a little mean to you, but you think it gives him personality. You kind of like it. But he leaves you all alone. Until one fateful day, where your whole life turns upside down.

Movie: Castle in the Sky

Fandom: GOT7

This was written for the 2021 Ghibli Collab by @toikiii. It’s a long time overdue, so I’m sorry about that. But this will be finished by October, in a three-parter. I hope you enjoy the first part. :)

Jinyoung insisted he’s some sort of prince. You would’ve found it annoying if it was any other kid in the village, but you didn’t mind it from him. He had dreams and aspirations, and who were you to judge him? You would sit with him under the big oak tree in the orphanage’s yard and listen to his stories and tales. The other kids would call you both weird, but you didn’t mind. It wasn’t like they were any more mature.

As the oldest two of the orphans, Jinyoung being only a few months older than you, you and he often had a lot more free time. Honestly, you didn’t know why you both had to stay. Well, kind of. You weren’t able to leave until someone offered to marry you, as you were a young woman with no family. Such was how the village worked. But Jinyoung, you didn’t know what was stopping him.

Deep inside you wished he was waiting until he was old enough to marry at twenty and then he would engage you, but you know it wasn’t that. He didn’t really like you. He only put up with you because you believed his tall tales. You could see it in his eyes. When you two were stuck doing chores any other day, he would look at you with such animosity. But when you sat at the tree, he smiled at you.

That was why you would listen. Any sort of appreciation he looked at you with, you relished. Even if it was only thankfulness at your willingness to hear his stories.

But one day, when you were waiting at the tree, Jinyoung was slow. A lot slower than usual. Usually, he was right behind you, eager to tell tales.

“Jinyoungie,” you called out, watching his head lift, “why so slow today?” You ran back down the hill to meet him halfway.

Jinyoung looked at you, eyes dead, and your brows furrowed. “(Y/N).”

“Jinyoungie? What’s wrong?” You reached out, hands fisting in his cotton shirt sleeve. “Why do you look so mad?”

“I have a family.” What? “I have family,” Jinyoung repeated as if he read the look on your face.

Your lips pulled down into a frown, feeling a burn behind your eyeballs. You don’t want to cry, but you might. Having family means he would leave, and you’d be stuck here by yourself. “But I don’t want you to go,” you whined, the words coming out more choked than you’d like.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “Well, I have a family. I want to find them. They’re the key to reclaiming my position as prince. You remember, you have to. All those things I told you. And the gift, remember it?”

You nodded, letting go of him and shoving your hand in your pocket and bringing out the book he gave you. It was an odd show of affection, but it had been your fourteenth birthday and Jinyoung had found you crying in the closet because the other kids had pulled your hair and called you names. It was filled with drawings and notes upon drawings and notes of these bodies Jinyoung called robots. It was a little weird but you still loved it.

“Well, it’s important. And you gotta keep it safe.” Jinyoung assured you, and you nodded again. “Look, I’m being serious.” He had such a look of determination on his face for an eighteen-year-old, you suddenly felt small in comparison.

You sighed heavily. There would be no stopping him. Jinyoung took your silence as assent and he turned around to leave. “Wait, Jinyoung,” you said again, and Jinyoung turned back. “You know, I like you a lot.”

Jinyoung smiled slightly, a rare occurrence. “I know.” His hand lifted and planted itself on the top of your hair. “Thanks for listening to me.” He leaned in and your breath hitched as his full lips planted itself on your cheek.

You couldn’t move, not even when Jinyoung pulled back and offered you a wide grin before heading back down the hill. You stayed up on the hill ‘til evening when the mistress of the orphanage called for you, and when you headed to bed without even having dinner, the other kids laughed at you. But you didn’t care.

He kissed you. Even if it was just on the cheek, and you’re probably never going to see him again, he kissed you. He likes you back. Maybe he’ll come back and marry you when the time comes. You clutched the little book close as you fell asleep. Jinyoung will return, you could feel it. You knew it.

And he did return, just not in the way you expected.

You had just turned twenty-one and from in the closet of where you hid, you could hear shouts and cries. This was not how you had wanted your birthday to go. When the morning of had come you were waiting anxiously in the early morning at the gates of the orphanage as you had done for the past two years on your birthday, hoping Jinyoung would come.

But strange men in suits had come instead, telling you to go fetch the mistress, and you had gone to her. You had thought maybe they had come to get one of the boys, so you waited inside for them to leave so that you could come to the gates again. They talked with the mistress and it seemed they had reached a conclusion, so you thought they might leave. But they didn’t leave.

They pulled out a gun and shot the mistress right in the face.

The kids watching at the door and outside screamed, but you couldn’t go out and save them. You didn’t have time before more men swarmed the courtyard, grabbing the kids and shoving them down before pulling out their guns. You couldn’t look.

The kids inside were still here and you needed to help them. The mistress would be angry if you didn’t.

You shoved the children inside closets, under cupboards, in wardrobes, anywhere they would fit. Only then when they were all hidden and you could see the big oak door entrance start to shake violently did you run.

You found yourself in the boy’s side of the orphanage, in Jinyoung’s old room. What a sick irony. But you had no time to wait, the clamor was getting closer. You shoved your way inside his wardrobe, thick shirts from the kids who replaced him over and over getting in your way. But it was dark and it felt safer than under the bed.

It wasn’t safe enough, though. The closet door opened and you were yanked out so hard you thought your bone might pop out of your shoulder. The men had found you.

“We found another one!” One of the three men in the room poked his head out the door and called to someone. “It might be the one you’re looking for, sir! She looks like it!”

You struggled, but it’s no use. The men are too strong and one of them backhanded you, the gun he held slamming into your jaw. You cried out from the sharp pain, but they just hit you again. “Shut up,” the man gripping you hissed, “you’re only making this harder on yourself, little girl.”

You clenched your eyes shut, waiting, waiting for pain or death, when footsteps entered the room and a familiar voice was heard. “(Y/N).”

Your eyes flitted open. “Jinyoung?” you ask in a hoarse, broken voice. “What– what are you doing here?”

Jinyoung, now twenty-one, smiles at you but there is nothing positive in his eyes. Just cold, hard, greed. “(Y/N),” he repeats, “you’ve grown up well. Happy birthday.”

Your eyes welled up, unsure whether to be happy he remembered or disgusted he did this. This was not the determined eighteen-year-old boy you knew all those years ago. “Jinyoung?” you repeated again, voice cracking. Jinyoung smiled a little wider, taking a step closer. “Why are you here?”

“(Y/N),” he tsked, “don’t be so sad. This orphanage never did anyone any good. They keep you here to be married off, and when they don’t get you married off, they keep you for free labor. Tell me, how long have you been here? Six years? More? So why haven’t you left? You had all the chances you could.”

You didn’t even know how to respond, only weakly saying his name once more. Jinyoung rolled his eyes and sneered. “Stop calling me like a child who just learnt their parents’ names. Look, I’ll just cut to the chase. Give me the notebook.”

You blinked up at him. “Notebook?” Jinyoung hissed through his teeth, stepping closer and grabbing your jaw with his hand. He wrenches your chin up and you can feel your neck strain as you’re forced to meet his eyes.

“The damn notebook, (Y/N). God, you’re so fucking stupid. The notebook. I entrusted. To you.” Your eyes shook looking up at Jinyoung. He was unhinged, so, so angry, and you hated him.

“It’s in my room,” you croaked out, and Jinyoung slipped into an easygoing smile with a bat of an eye.

“Good girl,” he crooned, and you felt sick. “Now, take us to it and I’ll let you go.”

You stood shakily, legs weak. How did this happen? You wanted to cry but you were so damn scared. When you stepped out in the hallway, you almost collapsed again. Bodies of the employees and the children here littered the hallway and it was only the grip of one of the men that kept you upright.

Jinyoung tsked again, hand moving to your shoulder where he dug his fingers in uncomfortably. “Stand up straight, (Y/N). Hasn’t the orphanage taught you anything? I could just kill you right now and find the notebook myself.”

You couldn’t respond, eyes trained on the wall in front of you. You could not look down. You must not. If you looked, you fear you would kill yourself. You lead them silently through the hallways until you stop at your room next to the headmistress’s. You unlocked the door with shaking hands, and you could feel your heart cry at the sight before you.

The children who were hiding under your bed were strewn across the floor, blank, dead eyes looking up at the ceiling. You could barely move, and Jinyoung sighed at your almost-catatonic state. “Go on, (Y/N),” he said with barely concealed impatience. “Go get me the notebook.”

It’s only when the other man shoved you did you stumble toward your pillow, feet heavy and tripping over the bodies strewn across the floor. The notebook– it was inside your pillowcase and you drew it out quietly.

When you turned around with the small, worn notebook in your hands, Jinyoung’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward and basically grabbed it, flipping through it fervently with a sick, twisted smile on his face. “Finally,” he breathed, “finally.”

He stood there for an almost uncomfortably long amount of time, flipping through before landing and staring at a page. With a sinking feeling in your gut, you knew which part it was. After a few minutes, Jinyoung finally turned to the men standing right at the door. “Leave us,” he commanded, and despite their obvious uncomfortableness with the command, they left you two in the room alone.

Jinyoung stared at you for a moment before thrusting the notebook at you, opening to the page you had dreaded. “Read,” he commanded again.

“Why?” you asked, but Jinyoung shook his head and you cleared your throat slightly before reading aloud what you had written. The journal entries you added once a year on your birthday until today. “Entry one. Jinyoung is gone, am I happy about it? No, but maybe he’ll come back.” The words were choked, and Jinyoung tsked again.

“Clearer.” You coughed lightly, eyes quavering with unshed tears.

“I want him to return and marry me. I want to smile at his side. I miss Jinyoung. It’s only been a few hours but I want to hear his stories again. He’s a sky prince. Will he return? I must believe he shall, for if he won’t I know that butcher from the village will ask me to be his. I don’t like him that much, he gets mad when I’m dreaming about things that are out of my reach”—the first tear slipped down your face and you quickly scrubbed it away with your palm—“but I’m sure Jinyoung will return.

“He has to,” you continued with your resolve weakening and more tears falling down your face, “because I love him. In all those children’s books, they say love trumps all. I want Jinyoung to come and yell at the kids teasing me like he used to. I just want him back.”

Jinyoung sighed, hands coming out and cupping your face in his big hands. You flinched but Jinyoung paid no mind, thumbs gently brushing the tears away. How could he? How could he come here and kill all the people you cared for and then just treat you so softly? “Continue,” he ordered once more, but his voice was a lot quieter.

“Entry two. Jinyoung isn’t back, but I’ll wait until next year. I’ll be old enough to marry then, and he’ll come and take me away. The butcher is getting impatient. He keeps coming to talk to the headmistress about me, and I’m never allowed to listen in. Where is Jinyoung? Even though he was a little mean to me, he still made sure I was all right. After all, I was the only one who listened to him. Why can’t he come to visit?

“Entry three.” Jinyoung’s hands were still on your face and you refused to lift your eyes from the book. You don’t think you could look at him after what he had done. “The butcher asked me to marry him. I said no and he hit me.” You could feel Jinyoung tense, fingers pressing into the hollows of your cheeks slightly. “The headmistress was angry with him, but he still waits at the gates sometimes to look for me. I try not to go out anymore. Where’s Jiny-”

“Stop,” Jinyoung hissed, hands dropping from your face and grabbing the book back. “Don’t read it anymore. Instead, tell me.” His voice shakes almost imperceptibly as if he’s trying not to become the eighteen-year-old he once was. “Why did you write in it?”

Your lips tightened, you still refused to lift your head to look at Jinyoung. “I missed you. I was young, lonely, and I loved you.” Jinyoung’s hand grabbed your jaw again, forcing you to meet his eyes. They still didn’t show any affection for you, but you’re rather glad about that. If he looked at you with love you might have forgiven him.

“Do you still?” The question made your lips quirk up. How could he ask you this now? Your eyes shifted to the side; you could hardly stand to look at his cold eyes.

“Maybe under different circumstances, I would.” The answer was enough for Jinyoung and he dropped his hand once more. He turns away, but you can’t help but ask him one more question. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

Jinyoung looked back at you, something akin to pity flashing across his stony face, and he stepped closer again, leaning closer. You flinch back but his hands dart out again, holding you still as he presses his lips to yours. Unlike the first kiss you had received from him, your heart didn’t beat in excitement, only in fear and disgust. There was no feeling as if Jinyoung was only trying to see if he would feel any different.

He lets you go after a moment, pulling back with an unreadable expression on his face. “Maybe if I stayed here, I would’ve married you. But I had left and I only knew you as the girl for whom I owed a favor. I suppose it was some sort of wishful thinking. Never will happen again, probably.” Your heart dropped.

If he stayed, this never would’ve happened. He would have been yours. But he’s unrecognizable now. Greedy, evil, you hate him. Jinyoung laughed at the expression on your face. “Don’t look like that, (Y/N). Be glad I kept you alive. And don’t worry about the butcher anymore.”

You didn’t move, almost in a sort of parody from when he first told you he was leaving. You didn’t move until long after he left the room and the sun was rising to its position in the middle of the sky. Only then did you have the courage to move. The bodies were still strewn across the grounds and you couldn’t help but cry for each and every one of them.

Fifteen kids, you remembered the count. Fifteen kids and all of them dead. Fifteen children and their mistress, the workers, all dead. Only you were alive and you didn’t want it. The village was just as quiet, when you had left the gates of the orphanage no one came out.

But when you approached the center, one lone woman came out, eyes burning with hatred and tears. It was the butcher’s sister. “You killed him,” she cried shakily, a finger pointing at you accusingly. “You sent that man to kill him.”

You can barely hear her, your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears. But the words struck you. “He– Jinyoung? He killed–” She nodded angrily once more.

“He came, saying he was doing a favor for you, and shot him point blank. You told him to,” she screeched, and you flinched. She took an angry step towards you, and you took one back.

“I didn’t– No, of course I–” you pleaded, “I didn’t know– He didn’t tell me, I told him nothing.” The sister shrieks, in fury or anguish, you don’t know, and lunges at you. She doesn’t get far when someone else runs out and holds her back. You recognize him too, the son of the village elder. His name escaped you at the moment, and it would only be years later, when you tell the story to your grandchildren, that his name was Jackson.

He sighed, shaking his head at you. “I don’t think you caused this,” he started to say slowly, “but I don’t think the village will believe you. I cannot save you from their wrath. You need to leave now. I can give you time until sundown, but leave.” His face tightened at your expression; you didn’t know what face you’re making.

You didn’t even have time to register when he pulled the sister back inside and left you standing out there in the open. Only then did you realize that while the town yard was empty, eyes were staring at you through the windows and the doors. He was right, they blamed you. Who else, when all the others in the orphanage were dead? Maybe Jinyoung thought he was doing you a favor in some twisted way, but his life wasn’t the one upended, it was yours.

You ran all the way back home in a fit of panic, pulling out the lone suitcase you had and shoving everything you can into it. Maybe if you had paused for a moment, you would have changed your mind because you certainly wanted to die after seeing what you saw. But this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. Maybe you didn’t deserve it, but you wanted to live.

Walking out of the town after spending almost all of your life in it was strange. You didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, you were happy you were gone from this hellhole, but on the other, you hated yourself for causing the death of someone. Why would Jinyoung do this? That was the lone question on your mind. Did he cause all this just for the damn notebook?

Your heart ran cold thinking about Jinyoung. What happened to him? Sure, when he still lived at the orphanage was cold-hearted and often just flat-out mean, but he still had some sense of morality. But not he just went on a rampage, killing every child in the orphanage because of what reason? It couldn’t have been spite.

What changed him? You shivered, remembering his cold eyes as they looked at you like you were just another person in his way. And maybe you were. But then, why would he kill the butcher? A favor? In return for keeping care of his notebook?

You shivered again, not up and down your spine, but from the cold. It was November, not quite winter yet but it certainly felt like it. The orphanage was always warm in the winter so you hadn’t the need for coats, but now you regretted it. With only a worn shawl around your shoulders, you were uncomfortable in the bitter wind.

If you died from the cold now, you wouldn’t be opposed. You had been walking for hours; night had settled over the trees and the temperature dropped by the minute. Death seemed like a good option, and maybe it would give you peace of mind about Jinyoung.

You may not be given peace of mind, but your brain did stop thinking about Jinyoung when your ankle rolled and you started falling down the steep hill you had been so carefully walking along the edge of. Sharp rocks bruised and scraped your body as you tumbled down what seems to be everlasting.

Only when you slammed into the side of what seems to be a stone wall did you come to a halt. You could hardly move, aching all over and your eyes fluttered shut. Everything hurt and you just wanted to die. You could hear a lantern jangle but you didn’t even have the energy to call out for who it was. You only feebly curled into yourself and let the pain overcome you and turn everything muddy, and then to black.

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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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fandomnovella-blog · 1 year

Text

The Bad Boy: Im Jaebeom

It was the senior prank day and that usually meant chaos! Last year some students toilet papered the school oak tree! God knows what was gonna happen this year! The pranks got more extravagant as the years passed! You walked into school a little weary of what you’d find! You held your binder close to you ready to bat away anything that might be about to splatter, explode or spray in your direction. You didn’t wanna take any chances and stayed away from the most crowded places in the school. To your confusion, the day passed pretty normally although every time you turned a corner you thought a bucket would land on your head. You checked your phone to make sure that the date was right. It was. So where were the pranks? Where was the screaming, running and laughing? You were slightly disappointed at this year’s turnout. You didn’t have to be for long. You were walking down the corridor of the beauty studies block, when someone grabbed you by the hand and pulled you into the nearest empty classroom! You closed your eyes in terrified anticipation!

“Why are you closing your eyes?” Asked a voice laced with laughter. You peeked through your eyelashes and saw… oh nooo. Jaebeom, panting in front of you. His three piercings sparkling as they dangled from his ears. Get a run in with him and you were either in trouble with him or because of him and he didn’t care about either. You definitely didn’t want to get in trouble because of him and you didn’t much like the idea of being stuck in summer detention WITH him either. “I thought…you would throw something at me…cos, you know, Prank day.” You said meekly still flinching against the wall.

He bent down so you were at eye level. “Really now,” he said coyly “And what did you think I would throw?”

“I don’t know,” You said shakily “Eggs?”

“Did you really think I would be that sloppy?” He asked you through breathless chuckles, “Eggs? Really?! This isn’t 1985.” You felt a little stung.

“Well, you didn’t. That’s the main thing.” You said as you straightened up. You eyed the door, thinking of any excuse to put 1000 kilometres between you two. It wasn’t worth your college application to stay near him. “Listen,” you said quickly.

“This has been great and all but- “

“Today’s your lucky day Y/N! You’re gonna be my accomplice!” said Jaebeom smirking.

“I have managed to get through today without getting pelted, attacked drenched or jumpscared. I’m not gonna stop that streak.” You said backing away.

“And I’m not getting caught and put in detention on Senior Prank Day either, at least, not alone,” said Jaebeom. “So, either you help me keep my streak or lose your squeaky clean rep. Your choice.” He folded his arms his arms, smirking, and waited for your response. You hung your head.

He chuckled and then, and then turning around in front of you said, “How do I look?”

You glanced at him quickly, “That’s a dumb question, you know you always look…” then you actually took a good look at him and was surprised to see that he was…well…scruffy! It was like he had been rolling around in a barn; feathers and bits of straw were hanging from his hair and clothes.

“Well, I have to say you don’t look as good as you usually do.”

“You think I look good?” said Jaebeom smirking triumphantly at the annoyance on your face.

“You know that’s not what I me- “

“I ran into a little chicken trouble.” He said cutting you off your excuse.

“Chicken trouble?” You began to ask curiously, then shaking your head said quickly “Actually don’t tell me. The less I know the better.”

“So, are you gonna help me or not?”

“I haven’t got a choice, have I?” You sighed defeated, “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? Help clean me up?”

“I don’t carry that sort of stuff with me.” You said holding out your hands to indicate they were empty.

“Look around you” he said “We’re in the beauty block.”

“Yeah, but all the beauty supplies are locked up af-“ you never got to finish your sentence. Jaebeom had found a hair pin picked the lock of the supply closet and was taking out spray, a hair dryer, some product and a comb.

“Now can you clean me up?”

Sighing, you began to brush his head roughly with your hand; trying to finish your task as soon as possible.

“Jeez! Why are you being so heavy handed?” winced Jaebeom, shielding his head from any more of your swipes.

“Cry-baby.” You muttered under your breath, but you took the straw and feathers out of his hair gentler, making sure not to miss a single strand. When it was all out of his hair, you took the comb, slicked his hair back and sprayed it so it would stay in place. “All done! Now can I leave?!” you said impatiently. Without saying a word to you he stuck his head around the door.

“Not just yet” he said, looking over your shoulder. “Miss F is walking down the hall.”

“That’s not my problem!” you said defiantly You turned to leave but he suddenly spun you around and held you close, his hands on your hips and your noses almost touching. You went to push him away, but he held firm staring in your eyes with an intensity you had never seen before, he said slowly and quietly “Just look this way.” You heard the door open.

“Honestly, Jaebeom? Here?” Said the teacher. She gestured towards where you both stood.

“Well, what can I do Miss?” Said Jaebeom with a smirk “We needed somewhere more…private for our date! People were running around everywhere!” You turned red and resisted the urge to gag. If you got in trouble because of him…

“I really didn’t need to know” Said Miss F, “You wouldn’t have anything to do with 12 chickens would you?” You choked! So THAT explains the chicken trouble.

“Nothing Miss.” Said Jaebeom innocently. She eyed him suspiciously, of course she wouldn’t believe a word he said, he was IM JAEBEOM!

“So, what’s all THAT on the floor?” she asked looking at the mess of straw and feathers from Jaebeom’s hair. He opened his mouth to speak but you jumped in quickly,

“That was me, Miss!! You told me to work on my texturing in art class so I decided to use feathers, sorry for the confusion.” and you hastily bent to pick them up. It didn’t sound believable to you at all but you hoped and prayed to all the gods that she would fall for it; and anyway, you weren’t lying, she HAD asked you to work on your texturing in art class.

“I see…” the teacher said quietly. It seemed to you that she was deciding whether to believe this lie, “Well, whatever the case get out of the classroom you know they’re out of bounds at lunchtime.” And with that she left the room.

“Happy chicken hunting Miss!” called Jaebeom after her. When you were sure she had gone you stood up and stared incredulously at him,

“I swear to God Jaebeom! You let loose twelve chickens in the school?!”

Jaebeom chuckled “Nope, I let loose 11.”

“So why- “

“We tagged them, but we purposely missed out number eleven and wrote twelve instead! They’ll be looking for that twelfth chicken for hours!” Then he considered you “You’re a good sport you know.” He said, looking over you. “I like your quick thinking!”

“I didn’t have a choice!” you said exasperated.

“Be honest with yourself. You like the thrill.”

“Not a bit.” You replied adamantly.

“We’ll see…” he said tentatively. He winked and left the room. UGH! Jaebeom! At least you didn’t get caught.

“Chickens, that really did top last year’s oak tree situation…” You muttered to yourself, “Clever of them to mis-tag the chickens!” You laughed quietly at how Senior Prank day had gone. Definitely not how you had expected. At that moment your phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number

“Told you 😉-JB.”

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seawitch62 · 2 years

Text

The Collector

(Just for fun 😀 Word count 161)

Jay Park

Management and staff groan inwardly, he posted what?

'Officially collecting bras all over the world, Jay Park aka Mr Won Soju aka The Bra collector.

#newsuperheroname.'

Repercussions! Time to get out the battle gear!

Fuck!

■

Word spread like wildfire, the fans squealed and giggled, the haters and trolls began their March.

Environmental groups demanded, "Do you donate these bras? Or do you throw them in the trash?!".

Women's rights groups are up in arms, "sexist" "chauvinist".

Other Women's groups support the bra throwing craze sweeping the globe.

"He has sexualized himself therefore women are in their rights to throw their lingerie if they so wish!".

Groups of Mothers were not impressed with their daughters wasting their money in such a way.

"Perv" "creep" these words were tossed around like yesterday's salad.

Protesters swarm AOMG, marching and chanting.

Total chaos ensues.

Jay Park monitors the mayhem.

"What the fuck! Why are they on my case? I'm just the collector".

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jjpdumpaus · 2 years

Text

My JJP fics;

The Fantastic Sexventures of; series

A collection of JJP stories with rated NC-17 content. ⚠️ Make sure to carefully check the tags before proceeding to read.

JJP drabbles; series

A collection of drabbles/snippets. ⚠️ Rating my vary.

Tales of JJP; series

A collection of non-explicit stories under the 4k word count. Most of them are and will be for the general public, but it doesn't hurt to check the tagging ;)

if you stay, i will even wait all night; completed

Jaebeom was in love with the idea of Park Jinyoung. Nothing more.

Untitled III; completed

• Photographer Jaebeom; Model Jinyoung; Pining; Jaebeom-centric; Light angst •

You see my heart (I wear it on my sleeve); chaptered - ongoing

• ⚠️ Carefully read the tags first ⚠️ •

What Jaebeom didn't know and no one prepared him for, was for a pregnant Park Jinyoung.

• Established relationship; Drama; Mpreg; Domestic •

underneath the stars; completed

Jinyoung can't say he's too fond of nature. So when Jaebeom suggests camping for the weekened, Jinyoung sort of panics.

• Established relationship; Non-explicit sexual content; Proposals •

On the list of things; series

• Content, warnings and tags vary. Check on each post •

#jj project #jaebeom #got7 jinyoung #jjp #fanfiction

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your-rose-highness · 2 years

Text

Tell me what is love (Ch 17)

Chapter 17

What would have been a delightful morning for Hye hee, only brought anxiety as the rays of the sun warmed her skin. Her droopy lids struggled to open, and her head drowned her in flashbacks of last night.

Hye hee sighed in embarrassment. Why would she behave so recklessly in front of him? She shook her head in disappointment.

The house was quiet, and all she could hear was the sound of birds frequently visiting the balcony that held food and water for them. Baekhyun had helped Sarang build birdhouses to help the birdies during the summer heat. Recalling the time he visited her in her little dingy apartment, she had served him poorly whipped salad and pesto.

“I was up all night googling how to build that thing. She wouldn't have it any other way. Her daycare teacher told her that we need to make things ‘earth-friendly’ for animals.”, he explained with gusto.

“Whoa. she’s a bright kid..”

“So, I was collecting twigs, clay, and other things to build a house for them….”

“You do know you can buy them, right?”, hye hee asked, pausing for him to respond mid bites.

“Yes.”, he smiled sadly. A smile that didn't reach his eyes.

“What is it?” hye hee so well knew his look that it didn't take her a second to recognise that look of misery.

“Sarang…. She’s always at home, you know. While her parents rush out at odd hours every day. We both hate her garnering interest from the media, so we take her out to places where she will not be swarmed by the paparazzi. She’s still too young for that. Regardless, she is still a child left home alone most of the time. It hurt me the day she told me about her bird friends who visit her every day because no one ever does.” his voice dropped as he choked on his tears.

Hye hee handed him tissues. Wiping away those tears of helplessness, he continued,” Tae’s family lives far away, and my mum isn't very fond of Tae, though she does try to meet Sarang once a while.” trying to hold his composure, he sighed.

“You do realise you’re doing well, right? It is also your first time being a parent. Cut yourself some slack.”, she tried to console.

A tiny smile flashed on his face, again, not reaching his eyes.

Byun Baekhyun.

The class clown.

Her Baekhyun, who could always make everyone laugh regardless of how their day was going.

Her Baekhyun, who would always hold Hye hee’s hand every time she went up on stage in school.

It hurt to watch him crumble like that. Even though she hated him for destroying them like that. He was still that young boy, and he was breaking. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Hye hee held his hand as he sat coping with grief.

“Sometimes, I feel bad for having done this at all. But, on the other hand, I love my little girl. I never knew I would feel this for a child until she came along….”

“Stop it. Sarang would hate it if she ever knew that her father was so broken all the while. She is the light you were so desperately looking for, baekhyun. Embrace it.”

He looked up at her as she walked toward him, hugging him to let him know he was alright.

Embrace it, she said.

And he did.

Baekhyun felt like his old self again. The young boy who would return to his girl every night, beaten from auditions, later beaten from training. He would spend days thinking about her and when he would be allowed to step out so that he could hold her hand again.

Kiss her again.

“Kiss her…” chanted his brain.

And he felt himself reaching out for her again. His lighthouse.

“It's late.” Hye hee said, unravelling herself from his hold. “Your daughter and wife…. Would be waiting.”

Baekhyun left ashamed. He left without another word and didn't contact her for a long time.

So much time had passed since then. The birds only reminded her of every tiny detail between them all these years.

She woke up and showered before walking downstairs to grab an apple. She wasn't starving, so she decided to work a little in the room.

A few hours later, she heard a chuckle in the quiet house. It seemed like they were back.

Hyehee closed her laptop and got under the covers, hoping he would think she was still asleep and leave.

Soon, she heard a knock on her door.

“hyehee?” he knocked. “You up?”

When she didn't answer, he opened the door slightly to peep, she felt a draft of cool air touch her feet as he walked in.

“Are you still asleep? It’s 10 in the morning, though, unlike you to sleep in.”

He sat by her, fingers stroking her head, “hye hee?”

Squirming, she woke, pretending to have just woken up.

“Hey. you alright? You look like you didn't sleep at all. Were you up all night.”, he said, brushing her hair from her face.

Please, Baekhyun. Don't make me hopeful for us.

“Hmm? Is something wrong?” he asked worriedly.

“No. I’m just tired. You guys should go ahead and have breakfast. I don't think I can make it.”

“Let me cook you something, then. How about some porridge if you feel weak….”

“It is alright! I’ll just have some fruit.”

“You already had fruit, though.”

“Huh?”

He pointed at the apple core leftovers on her nightstand.

Fuck. Evidence.

“Why did you go back to sleep? Are you feeling sick?” he moved closer to check her forehead.

She could get used to this. Baekhyun being by her every day, so close.

“That's it. Congee for you today. Not surprising, you always had a weak stomach. And you went through quite some storm yesterday.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled. His palm on her cheek, thumb stroking her face.

“Wake up slowly; I’ll cook.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why? Daddy! No. I want to go to auntie Sohee’s place for her stew.”

“Sarang. Hye hee’s unwell. We can't just leave her now, can we?”, Baekhyun tried to soothe his pouty daughter in the kitchen as he looked for congee ingredients.

“Let's go. I can have porridge out too.”, Hye hee suddenly chimed behind them.

“But, hye hee, you were weak this morning.”

“It's alright. You're with me. I’ll be okay.”

Sarang didn't like that one bit. Her face grew graver by the minute. Her father was hers. Who was this woman trying to butt in? It was supposed to be a play day with her father, and now, a woman would be tagging along.

“Umm. okay. Yeah, I will.” he awkwardly smiled, glancing at Sarang.

The drive was quiet. hye hee felt very out of place, especially now with Sarang, who clearly did not seem to enjoy her company at all.

Just breakfast. Eat, leave, tell them you’ve got to work. Excuse yourself and leave. Look for an apartment and move.

It did not last very long. Baekhyun knew the way to his daughter’s heart well, and he had her giggling in no time.

It warmed her heart to see him with her. He was indeed a great father.

By the time they finished, Sarang was in Baekhyun’s arms, fast asleep.

“I can drive if you want.”, Hye hee offered.

“Would you? Thanks.” he carefully handed over the keys to her.

Reaching home, he quickly put her to sleep in his room. Looking around for her, he realised she was in the shower. He was just about to leave when the constant pings on her phone attracted his attention.

Stop. Baekhyun. He told himself. ‘This is not right.’

He peeped in.

Jaebeom ❤️: Hey…

Jaebeom ❤️: I cannot apologize for yesterday enough.

Jaebeom ❤️: If possible, I would like to see you once more. Jane will be…

Jaebeom ❤️: Hye hee. Please talk to me. I’m sorry.

Jaebeom ❤️: forgive me, please.

He couldn't believe his eyes. The audacity to text her again after hurting her like that.

The phone rang as he reread the texts.

The phone flashed Jaebeom ❤️ on the screen. Baekhyun felt rage build inside him.

“Hye hee. Thank you for answering. I am sorry about my behaviour yesterday. I’m mad at myself too. I know these excuses mean nothing.”

“How dare you call her?” Baekhyun growled into the phone.

“Baekhyun? Look, man, I have no reason to speak to you….”

“Well, you have to. Because what concerns Hye hee concerns me right now….”

The phone was snatched from him at this moment. Hye hee, wrapped in her bathing robe, was shocked to find baekhyun snarling into the receiver. She hung up and turned to him.

“What do you think you're doing?” she sighed, annoyed.

“He called you.”

“That does not allow you to answer my calls.”

“Sorry if I am protective of you.”

“Why? What am I in your life?”

“You are not asking me that question….”

“Everyone in your life hates me, baekhyun. Despite trying to avoid that thought, I cannot ignore that everyone we meet is just going to villainise me from now on.”

“Who? I don't care about anyone. I know the truth, and that is what is important.” he raged as he said, “If I start being affected by all the hatred and noise outside, I can never live, Hyehee. Now you have to make your decision here. This noise and despise will be a part of my baggage. I cannot get rid of it. If you think you can love me enough to stay, I will never ever leave your side. This, I promise you.”

She looked at him with disbelief. Wanting to trust him with every cell in her body, she still couldn't. It happened once. What if she is left stranded again?

“.... and about that jerk. Whether you decide to stay or leave, I will not allow anyone to hurt you like that. You are my friend first and always will remain to be.”

He slammed the door again.

The house was quiet. For the most part, she only heard noises from his bedroom, which seemed to be of Sarang playing. He had knocked once in the afternoon, which Hyehee did not answer, only to discover later he had left kimbap in front of her door. She had been starving, and they were delectable.

Sarang left with Taeyeon later that evening. She heard Baekhyun walk past her door and into his bedroom without a pause.

Ugh. What a sulky kid, she thought to herself.

Baekhyun was annoyed.

This is why they said that two headstrong people shouldn't date each other.

None of them would back down easy. Both of them would usually drop hints to resolve any arguments before the smiles seeped through their tough demeanour again.

He was blankly watching tv in his room when he heard someone shuffling outside. Opening the door, he met Hyehee’s startled face.

“What do you want now?” he blankly asked.

Hyehee stood awkwardly as she tried to conjure the answer that did not exist in her brain, “um. Nothing. Just. I…”

“Can you talk in full sentences?”

“Aish. Are you going to be like this all the while? I didn't know what was happening in your life. I get it now, okay? I will keep it in mind.”

“Thanks, pal.”, he uttered sarcastically, walking past her downstairs into the kitchen.

“Yah! I apologized, right! Also, I have another thing to say.” her voice became smaller in the end.

He looked at her suspiciously, “what again? What is it?”

“Jaebeom and Jane want to meet me. So…. so, I told them I’ll come if you come along, and I’d tell them later.”

“Why? Why would I? Wait, weren't you the one you just asked me what significance you had in my life? Um, yes, you were.” he strutted around, making food for the both of them again.

“Don't be mad, Baekhyun. I’ll make you dinner! They’ll meet us in Minseok’s cafe if you like that.”

When he didn't answer, she finally opened up, “Jane and I have been friends for the longest time, Hyun. I’m sure this is very stressful for her too. And I miss my best friend…. If this Jaebeom thing doesn't solve, She and I will have a deranged friendship forever…. Please, Hyun?”

Hyun. She had stopped calling him that. It made his heart beat crazy hearing her say it so casually again.

“Alright.” he sighed.

“Really? Yay!” she yelled and jumped in joy, flashing the biggest smile at him. She was dialling Jane’s number when Baekhyun stopped her.

“Oi. Where do you think you're going? Make dinner. It eas part of the deal.” he grinned, sticking out his tongue at her, taking off his apron and putting it around her neck.

“Get to work, Madame!” he whistled, settling in front of the TV.

She settled on Kimchi stew and quickly made it from scratch. Baekhyun cooked rice, and the two finished the dishes together pretty quickly.

“Why did you feel unimportant? I thought I made it pretty clear from last night that my intentions weren't exactly platonic,” he asked her, sipping his chilled beer up on the rooftop.

“Sarang….”

“Is a child. She is coloured by her parents actions right now. This will not matter in a few more years, Hyehee.”

“But she is important to you. And I don't want to upset a child over my feelings.”

“She is not upset, Hyehee. She just hates the attention you get from me. A young child who craves her father is what she is. Nothing else matters to her. As long as I’m next to her, she would not bother thinking about you or anyone else. She has always been like that. A clingy little one I’ve got.” he chuckled.

“Really?” she wondered.

He nodded in assurance. “Trust me. She has my traits when it comes to jealousy.”

“But you were never the jealous type….”

“Or, I hid that type from you well.”, he cockily added.

The night deepened with the two charted numerous times Baekhyun would magically appear if plans with other boys from the class were involved. They laughed, thinking about their innocent childhood spent with each other.

“I feel him still.” he looked into her eyes, “that young boy madly in love with this fantastic girl. Whom he always thought to be a nerd. The girl who beat him in his video games. The girl who would argue till the end of the night without breaking a sweat…. He exists still. Caged. But, present.”

“Then set him free.”, she whispered, her eyes glistening with longing.

Their lips met under the starry night, a gentle breeze cooling their skin. All the feelings unpacking itself that beautiful night. Nothing else mattered then.

He deepened the kiss, his lips tracing her face, taking in her scent.

How it ignited him. Like old doors reopen to cherish. He picked her up once again. This time, with finesse. Their lips never leave as he walks downstairs with her in his arms.

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