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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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stylingsstuff · 2 months

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⋆ 𝕘ot7 𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⭒۟ 120x120.

like ou reblog se pegar.

#120x120 #spirit fanfics #kpop icons #120x120 icons #gg icons #kpop gg icons #kpop bg #bg icons #bts icons #twice icons #got7 #jackson wang #bambam #mark tuan #youngjae #jinyoung #jaebum #yugyeom

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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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markie-baby · 3 months

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01.15.24

@got7_isourname on Instagram

GOT7 10th Anniversary 🖤💚🐥

#got7 #got7 mark #igot7 #kpop #got7 yugyeom #got7 youngjae #got7 jaebum #got7 jinyoung #got7 jackson #got7 bambam #10 years with GOT7 #got7 fanfic

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whats-wild-to-you · 1 year

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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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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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soldesigns20 · 3 months

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Gotoons de GOT7 100% personalizados para cualquier #ahgase. Para uso personal o comercial, ideal para imprimir donde quieras 💖✨️

Obtené diseños QUE NO VAS A ENCONTRAR EN OTROS LUGARES y utilízalos para vender en tu tienda o para impresiones personales. Para Stickers, ropa, tazas, almohadones, etc🐦

Customized GOT7 Gotoons 100% for any #ahgase. For personal or commercial use, perfect for printing wherever you want 💖✨️

Get designs THAT YOU WON'T FIND ANYWHERE ELSE and use them for selling in your store or for personal prints. For stickers, clothing, mugs, cushions, etc. 🐦

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shibuinni3 · 4 months

Text

Camas de motéis ocupadas

02/09/23; Capa para uso pessoal

Wang Jackson e Im Jaebum, Got7.

Link; ☁️

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vad-hander · 2 years

Text

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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mocchimazzi · 1 year

Photo

Capa para doação por Mocchi. feat @desiresdesigns, “Teen wolf” - Disponível.

Alterações: Título e adição de frase.

#capa para fanfic #capa para doação #capa dark #capa sexy #mocchimazzi #spirit fanfics #600x400 #design #jaebum #got7 #kpop

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got7paradisejust4u · 2 years

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GOT7 Reaction - Catching You Trying To Reach Something On The Top Shelf

Post Date: 4th July 2022 Content: Fluff TW?: N/A

Masterlists: Reactions / Scenarios / As If you like my stuff and wanna tip, just buy me a coffee!

My requests are open!! Please feel free to send me any ideas that you may have, but please go through my masterlists just in case I’ve already done something! <3 ______________________________________________________________

Youngjae - *He’d smile sweetly at you as he takes hold of you, pulling you down from the counter to save yourself from getting hurt and grabbing it himself, and would probably even be sweet enough to show you the tong trick*

Yugyeom - *It could go one of two ways, either he’d just giggle at cute you were and instantly help you just because he’s a sweet boy. OR, he’d just stand there and watch you, waiting for you to beg for help then contemplate doing it just to see if you’d just give up and try again yourself before he comes to the rescue*

Mark - *He’d giggle softly, admiring you for trying your absolute best, just watching you to see if you could even achieve your goal before stepping in to help, really not wanting to interrupt your attempt but he’d just want to be kind*

BamBam - *He’d offer to instantly help whilst laughing, and by the chance you take up the offer, he’d try and get some payment for helping you even though he offered, like a kiss or something for a week. Expect him to be persistent on this until you agree*

Jinyoung - *He wouldn’t be suprised that you were struggling, sniggering to himself before walking over and grabbing that item for you to save you anymore hassle, expecting the lecturer off you that you were trying to be independent*

Jaebum - *He’d quite enjoy watching you struggle a little, scoffing to himself at how cute you were trying to be independent before offering any help, trying to hold back laughter as he’d most likely try and give you a little boost so you still have indepenancy*

Jackson - *All you’d be able to hear is his stuffled giggles as he’s actually really glad that he’s the only one who struggles with this type of thing, enjoying the moment before trying to offer some form of help through trying not to cry of laughter as he continues to watch*

#got7 #got7 reaction #got7 scenarios #got7 blog #got7 stuff #got7 react #got7 fanfic #got7 mark #got7 jaebum #got7 jackson #got7 jinyoung #got7 youngjae #got7 bambam #got7 yugyeom

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kpopjust4u · 2 years

Text

Their love language (GOT7)

Post Date: 9th July 2022 Content: Fluff TW?: N/A Request?: Yes Masterlist Prompt list

Mark: Mark’s love language is either words of affirmation and/or quality time spent together. He’d always have something so loving to say about you, anything and everuthing about you that he loves?You’ll know and he’d appriciate it if you even did it back to him. Quality time spent together would be important to him, making every minute count.

Jaebum: Jaebum’s love language would be either gift giving and/or acts of service. He’d love to spoil you, even randomly just to show his love and to keep you happy, and with acts of service, he’d also do just that. He’d want to always make sure that you’re happy with him and in yourself.

Jackson: Jackson’s love language is 100% physical touch, if he can hug you, kiss you, hold you and/or touch you in anyway, he’s happy. Though he would be very verbal about how much he loves you and all, touch is a big deal to him. Even if it’s a little kiss on the cheek or holding pinky fingers, he’s all for it.

Jinyoung: Jinyoung’s love language would be physical touch. He’d love just to hold your hand whilst walking, giving you small kisses on the cheek and/or the forehead, which would be his favourite. Those small acts of physical touch just to see you smile? He’d indulge in it.

Youngjae: Youngjae’s love language would be gift giving, 100%. He’d do this to make your day feel better if you’re having a bad day, he’d do it because he saw something that reminded him of you, and/or he just wanted to. Any gift with small little notes for you to keep and read, he’s the sweetest gift giver.

Bambam: Bambam’s love language would 100% be quality time. Every second that he spends with you, spending quality time together, he’d cherish it, take it in, take advantage to make you smile and make it rememoriable. You could literally do anything and this would make him so happy*

Yugyeom: Yugyeom’s love language would be physical touch, as well as words of affirmation. He’d need to have kissed you, held your hand, something to keep him going, but he’d also say so much about you that he could write a book on how much and what he loves about you*

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sinnobuns · 5 months

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Okay so I have a shitload of requests for Day6 and Guki was the Day6 admin so those requests are gonna be deleted due to me not having even the slightest feeling for who they are as people. If it were under any other circumstance I would be happy to recruit a Day6 admin but this is ultimately my decision and my blog so we are gonna start over with that specific area. As of right now, requests are closed but I'm gonna look over what we had in the drafts and see what I can get back into and push out for you guys in order to stay relevant.

I am partial to got7 as they are my BG but I would be willing to try my hand at say, Monsta X or EXO. BTS is not totally out of the question but I AM super rusty at solo writing. I am a thousand percent sure it's gotten a lot better over the years but I think it's gonna be a process getting back into it for sure. I would also be willing to explore SVT in the future but as of now, as mentioned above, I am keeping requests closed for the time being. I would imagine I could get a few things done before the new year and start to open reqs again.

In the meantime, I want y'all to know how grateful I am to be able to come back to this blog and do what I can to make up for that massive absence I had, and if anyone wants to request got7 stuff on my main blog you can do so here.

All my love,

-- Admin Def

#got7 #bts #monsta x #exo #im jaebum #mark tuan #jackson wang #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom #update #seventeen #kpop fanfic

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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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whats-wild-to-you · 1 year

Text

Hotshot

As nervous as you were to learn that you would do today’s interview alone, it was nothing compared to the nerves you felt when you were told who you would be interviewing. None other than Jay Park.

As soon as you sat down across the desk from Jay, the words of your supervisor echoed in your ear.

‘This is a huge opportunity for you, don’t mess this up!’

Nervously, you entered Jay’s office as the young man held the door open, gratefully smiling at him.

“Hello, I’m from Vogue Korea, I’m here for the interview.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Oh, sorry, it’s Estelle.”

You had heard a lot of things about Jay Park but you knew you couldn't make a judgement unless you got to know him yourself.

Immediately you started the interview, opening your laptop and read each question while the small recorder on the desk recorded his answers.

He did his best answering all question sufficiently while still making sure not to share too much.

When you looked at your screen to see what the next question was, you involuntarily made a face.

You wanted to be seen as a professional and serious reporter but your boss wanted you to ask about his love life, no matter what.

But seeing as how he expertly evaded less comfortable questions, you knew he wouldn’t answer this one either.

“I guess we can skip this one.” You said more to yourself, not realizing that Jay’s eyes were glued on you.

“No, no. No skipping. What is it?”

Releasing a strained breath, you spoke, your voice suddenly sounding very apologetic.

“We never see a woman by your side or hear anything in the media. Our readers want to know if Jay Park is still available.”

You cringed after reading the question, hoping he wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

Jay snorted, looking to the side before his eyes rested on you again.

“I wonder who’s asking?”

“Huh?” You were genuinely perplexed, looking at your laptop for the next question.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

“No. I’ll answer.”

Something in his voice made you look away from the screen and meet Jay’s eyes.

After he made sure he had your undivided attention he spoke softly while leaning forward, minimizing the distance between you.

“Depends on who’s asking.”

You would’ve thought his answer was cocky but there was a sincerity in his eyes. It made you want to get an answer out of him.

“I’m asking.” You said, mirroring his move and leaning over the desk.

“In that case I’m very much single.”

You leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. “You know this will be printed, right? I won’t leave anything out.”

Jay nodded innocently but you could see he was plotting something.

The interview ended without a hitch and you were on your way out the door when Jay called after you.

“You know you owe me, right?”

“What?”

“You get to print something I usually wouldn’t have shared. You owe me.”

“I’ll send you a gift basket!” You countered, full of moxie.

“Uh, uh. This won’t do!” He said in between laughter. “Have dinner with me!”

“Like a date?” You asked, wanting to tease him but your voice betrayed you and was laced with anticipation.

He smiled and waved after you as he practically closed the door in your face. From the other side you heard his muffled voice promising to call, which made you giggled like a schoolgirl.

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

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jae-daddy · 2 years

Text

Duff (13)

im jaebum au series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: angst, mature, smut plot: you are the duff and guys use you to get close to your best friend, heather, and turns out Jaebum is no exception, but as time goes on the tension between you and your best friend’s unofficial boyfriend grows a/n: hi, idk imma put out the worst trash and not overthink it, because at the end of the day its all about getting it done <3 hope y’all like it. and ive gotten my life together, so i’ll post more regularly fr now. not edited <3333

You snorted as you stared at the scene in front of you.

It was almost comical watching as everyone crowded around Jaebum, waiting like dutiful lapdogs for their master to offer them the slightest bit of attention.

You took a sip of your cool vodka with a splash of orange juice, clicking your tongue as one of the girls dropped something right in front of Jaebum. She shamelessly bent in front of him, picking up the tube of sunscreen and staying in that position for two seconds longer than necessary.

Your face remained neutral as if your eyes were closed and you were basking in the sunshine. But your right eye twitched as she looked over her shoulder at a smug looking Im Jaebum. A frown settled on your lips as you took in the way his lips tilted into a lazy smile as she moved towards him.

Your chest heaved as a molten fist gripped your heart, clenching it tightly as she sat in front of him. The burning spread all the way down to your tummy as you watched him squirt the sunscreen onto his hands and rub them together.

That son of bitch was about to rub sunscreen onto that girl's back.

He inched closer to her, and you could almost feel the heat of his body radiate against your back. As his hands touched her skin, his body leaned closer to hers, his lips close to her ears; you turned away.

Something lodged in your throat, and you tried to gulp it away as you stared at the branches of the palm tree swaying lazily above you.

You bit back a groan and closed your eyes. It didn't stop the ridiculous giggle from the other side of the pool though. Her voice stabbed your ears, causing you to clench your teeth.

You tried to will their presence away. You wanted Jaebum and all of him in that light blue loose shirt to disappear into the sea breeze, just like how it was meant to be. Just as this trip had always been, with just you and Heather.

It was always just the two of you, under the sun, deliciously warming your skin before you escaped into the cool water. It was always flirting with strangers on the beach and then cocktails until sunrise. It was a time to relax, unwind, to celebrate hot girl summer.

But it was far from that now.

Now the dreamlike days had been tarnished with demons she had invited with open arms. It was supposed to be quite sunshine and the dancing of palm trees. But now it was grating giggles and annoying assholes who wouldn't leave you in peace.

"Any harder, y/n and your teeth will turn into dust," you hated the way your body reacted to his velvety voice.

Speak of the devil.

You ignored him, but it was not that easy to shake him off.

"Was the big hat necessary?" He chuckled. You brought a hand up to your sensible white hat and turned to him with a glare.

"Sun damage is no joke, Jinyoung," you told him, unable to come with a better comeback. But kill them with knowledge.

An endearing smile bloomed onto his lips as he said, "I'm sure, y/n."

You looked away from him and tried to blame the sun for the heat creeping up your cheeks. The heat only grew as you felt his gaze remain on you. You turned to him, and his dark eyes behind those light shades watched you with that same smile that made your heart flip.

"Go away." You said simply, before relaxing on your back again.

Of course, Park Jinyoung wouldn’t just leave because you asked him to. Instead, the pool bed creaked as he settled into it beside you.

You tilted your head to find him sprawled comfortably, with his hands behind his head. The distant memory of his hands behind his head, while you were on your knees in front of him, flashed before your eyes. He smiled almost as if he could see what was happening in your head.

Silence enveloped you both as you lay in the cool sea breeze. The voices from the chatter around the pool floated in the atmosphere, and someone yelped as the sound of water splashing reached you. If you closed your eyes it wasn't that bad.

And at least, the grating giggles had somewhat stopped now. You tried to search for Jaebum’s voice but it was to no avail. Another flick of anger licked your belly as you thought of him whispering in that girl’s ear, talking softly to her as she batted her eyes up at him.

“Do you remember that time we went to Fiji?” Jinyoung spoke, pulling you out of the green slime you were sinking into.

You kept your eyes closed as you hummed, “I remember the blissful times when you weren’t annoying me.”

You heard him chuckle, before he continued, “This reminds me of the private villa we had.”

You remembered the villa. You remembered the days and nights spent together doing nothing but being lost in each other. Everyone thought you were on your honeymoon, and maybe it was. It was the last time you both were so incredibly happy together. As soon as you landed back home, you had found about his engagement to the heiress.

Jinyoung kept talking, “We had just come back from exploring the village when you decided you wanted to take a swim.” You couldn't help the smile itching at the corner of your lips. You knew exactly what he was talking about. He must’ve seen your grin, because you could hear him smile and shake his head, “I thought you were going to die. Your scream was straight out of a horror film.”

You laughed with him this time. You turned towards him, your heart hurting as you saw him laugh so freely. You missed him laughing like this so many times over the years. His shoulders shook as chuckled, “And then- then-”

He couldn’t continue because he was laughing so hard. You reached over slapping his broad shoulder, “It was a reasonable reaction.”

“I thought you were going to get brutally murdered, y/n.”

“I’m sorry I’m not used to seeing goats lounging around the pool,” you protested, glaring at him. But you couldn’t keep a straight face for long as another round of laughter escaped you.

“Well, I wasn’t the one that got chased around by a dog,” you snorted at him. His eyes widened as his mouth fell open.

“You were supposed to take that to your grave, y/n,” he tutted, his eyes glistening with amusement.

“Well, technically it was a puppy,” you clicked your tongue, smirking.

“A puppy?!” He chocked, making your grin widen. “That thing was not a puppy or a dog. That monster is used to protect the gates of hell.”

This time you laughed entirely. You threw your head back as belts of laughter left you. You gasped for air trying to calm down, when he continued, “I swear I still wake up shivering from nightmares about it.”

“Jinyoung,” you gasped, hitting his shoulder, giving him a silent plea to stop.

You both slowly lulled to a stop. The air between you thick with emotions you both were feeling. You could feel the same heaviness in Jinyoung that was slowly settling over your heart.

You spoke first, "Why did you come here, Jinyoung?"

He stared at you for a long moment, before shrugging, “Heather invited me.”

Something close to betrayal shot through your chest as you stared at him, shocked.

"Why?" you whispered in a low voice.

The smug look on his face melted as he brought his hands close to yours. They loomed over your hands that were turning white from your tight grip on the frame of your chair. Finally, they settled tightly onto his lap.

"For business," he cleared his throat. You didn't reply as your mind finally began to register that Park Jinyoung was actually here. At your hot-girl summer trip, but so was Jaebum, Bambam, and some other people. This was not a hot girl summer trip; this was something else.

Jinyoung continued taking in your silence, "It's a rich kid event. We all are heirs of big fortune, so we're networking."

You didn't answer again.

You didn't understand why, but you felt utterly betrayed being invited here. Heather knew you didn't like the elite crowd. You didn't like the way they looked down at the poor, how they flaunted their money, how easily they got out of trouble. You hated how immune they were to their own consequences.

But what hurt the most was Heather knew Jinyoung would be here, and she still invited you. She hadn't even given you a heads up. She had just invited you and left you to the wolves.

You scanned the area, searching for her. She was easy to spot in her red hot swimwear. Just like Jaebum, she had her own circle of groupies surrounding her. They were all laughing at something, and your cheeks flamed brighter.

You felt stupid being here. You needed to get away for a bit.

"Hey," Jinyoung's hand touched your arm. You turned to him with wide eyes, the frown on your lips deepening. You felt the frustrated tears building up as you brushed his hand away.

He let it hang there for a second before drawing it back.

"Sorry," he cleared his throat, "I was calling out to you, but you weren't listening."

You shot up from your seat instead of answering him. You grabbed the bag next to your chair and began walking away.

"Hey! Where are you going?!" He yelled quietly, trying not to draw any attention.

You just shook your head and continued walking.

You didn't fit in this crowd.

Even now, when you didn't mean anything to Jinyoung that could taint his reputation, he was still trying to hide his association with you.

You weren't thinking about where you were going. But all those summers spent at Heather's summer house had made you very acquainted with the area that you were sure you wouldn't get lost. You quickly found your way to the beach and stared at the near-empty beach.

"What a shame," you looked out to the sea, covering the glare of the sun with your hand, "It's just a nice day."

You pulled out your blanket to lay onto the sand.

Anyone can call you crazy, but you like to be prepared for anything. Hence your handy summer bag that had gone through countless trials and errors until it became the perfect summer bag.

The blanket resulted from a terrible day a couple summers ago when you and Heather had stumbled onto the beach and decided it was a beach day. The lack of a towel led to sand in areas that took days to get rid of completely.

You positioned yourself underneath one of the giant umbrellas and opened the blanket onto the sand. Two solid, tanned hands straightened the other side.

"Thanks," you smiled, finding a handsome man smiling back at you.

"No problem," his smile widened as he took in the hello kitty print on the blanket. His eyes flickered back to you as he smirked, "Cute."

"Thanks," you replied, as you bit your lip feeling embarrassed.

"Aye, come on," he clicked his tongue, with a teasing smile he said, "I wasn't teasing."

Even if you wanted to, you couldn't stop the smile spreading over your lips, as you nodded, "A-ha-"

Before you could say respond, a voice interrupted you.

"There you are."

His chest heaved as he tilted his head at you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, confused.

Jaebum didn't answer you as he came to stand beside you. His sunglasses were pushed up on his head, his eyebrows drawn in concentration as he focused on you.

“You can’t just leave without telling people-”

“I told Heather.” You cut him off with the lie. Of course, Im Jaebum didn’t believe you, he could see straight through your lies all the time and it annoyed the hell out of you.

One time, when you were both working together, he had given you some of the lunch he had prepared himself. It was horrible, tasted like bitter acid, but you still took many bites and tried to act like it was nice, but he saw right through it. Or the times when you on the edge of a breakdown from all the stress, and even though you would say you were fine, Im Jaebum would give you the most absurd errands like going up to the rooftop and recording the sky for him for ten minutes.

Even though you both seemed to bicker every time you talked, he was always smiling at you.

But he wasn’t smiling right now. He looked somewhat pissed, and you really couldn’t understand why, because frankly, what you did was none of his damn business. You were just about to tell him this when someone coughed drawing your attention away from Jaebum.

“Oh,” you remembered the stranger standing in front of you.

"Sup," Jaebum did the little nod thing to him, smiling as if he had known him his entire life. You rolled your eyes at Jaebum. How could he look so pissed one second, and then be this happy chap the next? "I'm JB."

"Like Justin Bieber?" The stranger chuckled, and you almost rolled your eyes at the lame joke. Jaebum didn't seem to mind; he just shrugged, smiling, "Not quite."

"Ah, I'm Jackson, dude," he introduced himself.

Dude?

"Nice, dude, like Micheal Jackson?!" Jaebum teased him back, and the two laughed. You stood there, wanting to drag your blanket away and go lay down somewhere else in peace.

"Nah, bro. MJ was a crazy dude. I can't compete."

"Rubbish!" Jaebum gushed as he turned to you with raised brows. "What do you think, y/n? Is he any less than MJ, the crazy dude?"

You bit back the smile threatening to grow on your lips as you met his dark eyes in challenge.

"Y/n," Jackson cut in before you had to reply. He said your name like he was tasting it on his tongue.

"Yeah, hi," you replied, tucking your hair behind your ear. The sea breeze was really strong here, making your hair fly into your mouth.

You smiled up at Jackson, who smiled back.

Jaebum cleared his throat, drawing your attention. His gaze remained on Jackson as he said, "So what are you doing here?"

"Surfing, bro," he pointed his thumb behind to the waves and group of people on their boards. "Came here with some mates. Do you surf?"

"Y/n loves surfing," Jaebum replied before you could answer. You punched his stomach, making him groan before turning to Jackson, "No, I actually don’t know how to."

"I can teach you," Jackson said, leaning towards you.

Your cheeks flushed as his eyes scanned your face. You suddenly felt bare, as if you had not gotten ready this morning.

"Maybe you can teach a couple of us," Jaebum spoke, making you both turn towards him. His eyes didn't look at you as he continued to talk to Jackson. "I have a couple of bros who would love a lesson too."

"Oh, it was just for-" Jackson rose his brows.

"We'll pay you," he interrupted with a charming smile. "Of course."

"Yeah?" Jaebum nodded in reply. His eyes bounced between you and Jaebum, before he nodded with a grin, "Alright, take my number..."

And that was your cue; you tuned them out.

You stepped away from the pair and stood on your blanket. You brushed away the bit of sand that had flown onto it before standing up straight. You grabbed the first button of your dress and began to open it, suddenly feeling too hot as frustration began burning inside you.

Sometimes you forgot Jaebum was just another spoilt rich brat.

The soft material slid off you, revealing the yellow swimwear you had on. You rolled the dress into a ball and placed it under your head as you lay onto the blanket.

"Shit," you heard Jackson mutter, and you tried to ignore it. Suddenly feeling too exposed, but you didn't cover yourself. Instead, you cast your gaze over to the two boys.

Jackson was trying to hide it his glances towards you, but not Im Jaebum.

He was looking at you; unmasked.

"Okay, I'll see you later, bro."Jackson cleared his throat as he cast you one last look. "See you around, y/n."

You got onto your elbows and waved him goodbye with a grin.

You watched him walk away, slowly becoming smaller and smaller on the horizon.

Jaebum who was looking into the distance now, and lay onto your back again. A few moments later, you felt him lay down next to you, and you tried to ignore him. But the words were right on your tongue, stinging to be let out.

"You didn't have to flaunt your money at him, you know."

Jaebum let out a snort, "I wasn't the one flaunting."

"What do you mean?" You got on your elbows again and glared at him.

Jaebum rose an eyebrow, a bitter smile on his lips as he dryly chuckled up at you, "This is one way to get over your ex, y/n."

"Ex? What?" You sputtered, confused. You took your sunglasses off, "What the fuck are you on about?"

"You cling onto the first thing that comes your way to--"

"Excuse me?" You choked.

"Oh, alright then," he corrected himself like it made a fucking difference. "Flirting with the first guy who gives you the tiniest bit of attention."

"I wasn't-"

"Are you that desperate for attention?" He rose up to meet your eyes.

You didn't answer him.

Your chest hurt. His words shouldn't hurt so much, but they did. They burned you.

"Are you that willing for a distraction that you'll take it from anyone?" You didn't answer him. You just stared at him as his jaws locked and eyes hardened. He leaned onto his side, facing you perfectly.

His eyes finally left yours and went to his hand that reached for you.

You watched him as the back of his hand grazed the slope of your neck. You watched him, follow his hand, and watch you, as your chest heaved at the ghost of his touch spreading through your body.

His hand traveled lower, down the middle of your breast, making your breath hitch. His fingers splayed on your hip as his fingertips dug into your skin.

"Can't that someone be me?" he whispered. His dark eyes finally meeting yours.

A slow breath left you as you leaned in closer, getting lost in the way the velvety darkness in his eyes flickered with heat. His eyes fell to your lips, then back to your eyes. His fingers tightening on your hips, stinging.

You were so close to him that your could paint the gold flecks in his eyes, and count every dark lash that kissed his cheekbones when he blinked. Your gaze fells to his lips, parted and waiting; and then you stopped.

A bucket of cold water fell over you as you pulled away from him. Your eyes prickling with tears as you gasped.

It was so small you would've missed it. You could've easily mistaken it for excitement, but you knew him. You knew that smile all too well. That winning smirk that itched the corner of his lips.

It was all a game to him.

"You bastard," you breathed. Your stern gaze met his stunned ones. He flinched at your words. You moved away from him, and lay on your back.

"You are cruel," you gritted out, trying not to show the way your heart was shattering, "a complete asshole."

Just another rich sick snob.

You tried to distract yourself by staring at the sky. "There are no clouds today."

"Cloudless skies are better, anyway." He answered, his voice tight.

"The more I get to know you, the more I despise you." You told him, honestly.

Jaebum chuckled at that, settling back to become comfortable. His warmth of disappearing instantly as he drew his fingers away, "Well, you're not the first to experience that."

You didn't answer.

None of you spoke for a long time.

"Who was that girl by the pool?" You swallowed, your throat painfully dry.

"Who?" He asked, amused.

"It certainly wasn't Heather," you said.

"No, it wasn't." He said after a long moment.

"How could you do that to her?"

He stayed quiet for a long time before saying, "How can you, y/n?"

After that, no one spoke until it was time to go.

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