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mykoreanlove · 8 months

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Can I see you tonight?

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

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

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

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

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

That question caught you by surprise. “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“JB?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

You were confused. “What is?”

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

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

“Go on. You can do it, JB.”

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

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

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

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

“I am listening, Jaebeom.”

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

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

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

Jaebeom sighed heavily, trying to control himself.

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

You let go of his jaw and watched him carefully.

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

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

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

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

His honesty caught you off guard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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prds-jaebeom · 2 years

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HI !

this is a long shot but i'm in need of angsty fics (i dont mind smut🫠😮‍💨) with happy endings🥹🥹🥹 it seems i have run out and can't seem to find any that drAW me in yk???? so if anyone is out there👀👀👀 pls drop fic recs im begging atp

*preferably got7 hyung line, bts maknae line, baekhyun, chanyeol, kyungsoo, sehun..... tbh just drop ur fave fics and i will READ😫

(if anyone actually drops fics just know i'll love u for the rest of my DAYS)

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veethefreeelf · 8 months

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JAY B Fic Recs

M - Mature (minors DNI) / F - Fluff / A - Angst / HpE - Happy Ending

None of these works are mine, I tagged all the authors, make sure to go to the authors page, like and reblog their works

The Back-Up - one-shot, 12K - by @inyournightmares97 - full Masterlist -> A / F / HpE - not mature but suggestive

The Leading Lady - one-shot, 11.6K - by @inyournightmares97 again because they have amazing works -> F / HpE

Chocolate Eyes - one-shot, 19.5K - by... you guessed it @inyournightmares97 because they write Jaebeom beautifully -> A / F / HpE

DREAMIN' - one-shot, 15K - by yes, again, @inyournightmares97 -> A / F / HpE

Illecebrous - one-shot, 2.9K - by @flurrys-creativity - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Mistletoes & Christmas sweaters - one-shot, 4.2K - by @flurrys-creativity again, just do yourself a favor and read all their works -> M / F / HpE

Moonlight Café - two-shot, 15.9K - by @milfgyuu - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Wet - one-shot, 8.2K - by @spacequokka - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Out of this World - one-shot, 11K - by @kpopchangedme - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

mistletoe? oh no! - one-shot, 6.9K - by @wonderlustlucas - full Masterlist -> A / F / HpE

Bad Habit Series by @jae-daddy - full Masterlist - please go through their masterlist, their Jaebeom works are unbelievably good -> M / A / F / HpE

Please mini Series by @jae-daddy again because I ALREADY TOLD YOU THEY ARE AMAZING -> M / A / F / HpE

Vermillion Series (Ongoing) by @flowered-mp3 - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Far From Home Series by @red-exo - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

to kill an empire Series by @ahgaseda - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Fragrances & Lost Fragrances Series by @jj-ktae - full Masterlist -> minor M / A / F / HpE

Erotica Series by @jj-ktae again because their stories are absolutely brilliant -> M / A / F / HpE

HOLIC Series by @taexual - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

What I Wouldn't Give mini Series by @flowerbeom - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Tension - one-shot, 6.6K - by @flowerbeom again because they are a brilliant writer -> M / minor A / F / HpE

Dating Lessons - two-shot, 18.4K - by @parkhabits - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Five Minutes - one-shot, 7.2K - by @parkhabits again because they are an amazing GOT7 writer

Worth Fighting For - one-shot, 5.7K - by @prettywordsyouleft - full Masterlist -> minor M / A / F / HpE

Poets and Parties - one-shot, 5K - by @kpopfanfictrash - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Check Your Messages - one-shot - by @kwrittink - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE

Taming The Brat Series by @deliriousscenarios - full Masterlist - THIS one is my favorite ever. I've re-read this more times than I can count -> M / A / F / HpE

Before Sunset - one-shot - by @mintjoonlep - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

INDEFINITELY Series by @noona-clock - full Masterlist -> A / F / HpE

hypnotic - two-shot, 23.7K - by @tuanhood - full Masterlist - this one is one of my absolute favorites as well -> M / A / F / HpE

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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.

184 notes · View notes

casnextdoor · 1 year

Text

A/N— soooo i know and they were roommates is unfinished but ive got crippling adhd so im gonna post one of my good ole nameless smutty oneshots. pls keep in my mind, the entire time i was righting this, i imagined cha eunwoo….

Warnings— Smut. like the most ive ever written for public consumption, jealousy, name calling, reader is sus asf, itty bit of angst, not beta-ed, this is a couple months old, minors DNI

Word Count— 2.5k

Song recommendation— OHMAMI by Chase Atlantic; Burn it by Agust D; Jealou$y by The Neighbourhood; Okay by Chase Atlantic;

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The rain beat down on the hood and windshield of the bass-laden car. You could barely hear your thought over the revving of the — frankly annoying — sports car you’d angrily nestled yourself into five minutes prior.

His hand gripped the wheel like it was his lifeline and his jaw was clenched into a tight square. In a different situation, your hands would be roaming with how, for lack of better words, hot he looked. But tonight wouldn’t be one of those nights.

Not when he’d caused such a big scene at a party he’d dragged you to. You’d been perfectly content, wrapped in your Hogwarts fuzzy blanket on the couch, watching reruns of The Office.

It’d been him showing up to your house clad in cracked leather and tight fitting jeans that had you jumping into the first clubbing dress you could find in your mess of a closet and plopping happily into the passenger seat of his car.

Neither of you, however, foresaw the amount of alcohol you’d drink or the way you sought comfort from the first pair of arms that’d wrapped themselves around you. In hindsight, you really did fuck up, but his reaction wasn’t nearly as necessary as he thought it to be. He’d angrily bulldozed his way through the crowd to get to you, snatching your arm into an aggressive hold and seething equally as raged into your ear.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” It was harsh and bitter coming from a mouth that only ever whispers sweet nothings to you in such close proximity. Probably coaxing you off the edge while you were wrapped so delicately in his sheets.

“Having fun. Could you loosen your fucking grip, dude?” His eyes widened and rage was more present than ever.

“Fun? You call this… this slutty behavior, fun? Get a fucking grip. We’re leaving.” And then he was dragging you out of the superficially large home and gently shoving you in the direction of the car.

All of this, leading to the present moment, both of you silently heated on your respective ends of the car. The silence on his end was what was making you upset the most and it didn’t take long for you to make a passive aggressive statement as a silent ploy to get him to say something.

“What a fucking joke.” It was all you could muster when you could quite literally feel the heat emanating off of him. It was uniquely you, though. You’d credit that to the wits of your mother.

He intakes a sharp breath and tightens his hands even tighter around the wheel. With the open silence you’d figured he’d ignore the quip and had another half-assed quip on the tip of your tongue when the car suddenly swerved off the road to the right and jerked to a hard stop.

He turned to you and his anger was more visible now. His face was a dark shade of red and his lips were pulled up into a snarl over his straight, gleaming teeth. All of it brought to a sinister package tied off with a scary bow by his dark eyebrows, furrowed under the fringe of his hair that’d slowly started to grow in wavy strands and now covered the majority of his eyes— which were squinted mockingly.

“‘A fucking joke’? That's all you have to say about the shit you pulled tonight? You want a fucking reaction? You got one.” And in an instant, his long, slender fingers are wrapped around the base of your neck all the way around to the nape. He jerked you forward until you were nose to nose and you could feel the harsh breath blow against the top of your lip. He smelled of liquor and his normal warm, earthy, wood smell that’d you grown to love so much.

You weren’t the only one intune with your lover. He could feel the subtle hitch in your breath and the way your pulse thrummed aggressively under his fingers. He watches as your eyes flutter close before blinking open and meeting his gaze head on. Your eyes were soft and you slowly went slack in his hold. He’s gotten you right where he wants you and his lips curl up into a cheshire grin at the thought.

His lips skimmed over yours as he spoke his next words.

“You belong to me. You want to go flaunting what you have between your legs like some bitch in heat, but you’re mine,” He watched as your eyes closed again and you let out the softest whimper he’d ever heard from you.

“Do you understand me?” He squeezes again and watches the way your eyelids flutter when your eyes roll back. When he doesn’t receive a response, he playfully nips at your bottom lip, licking his tongue across the bite apologetically when you moan.

“I said, do you understand me?” You hum in agreement and jerk forward a bit in his grasp, chasing after his lips.

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the response he was looking for, and just when you were sinking into the feeling of completely drowning in him, he pulled away completely, and you feel the rumbling of the car purring to life, once again.

“I guess you forgot how to use your words.” His condescending draw sends shockwaves through your body, bringing you back to the present moment while simultaneously making you aware of the way you kept throwing yourself at him like you weren’t just purposefully trying to piss him off fifteen minutes prior. But the steady heartbeat between your legs and the aching need to hand yourself over to him and let him do as he pleases with you was too much for even someone as prideful as you to bare.

So before he shifts the gear stick, you grasp his wrist in a solid grip and you mumble exactly what he wanted to hear. “I understand…” He smirks, turns the key in the ignition before snatching it out and sending you a sideways glance.

He reached his hand on the side of his seat and watched as your face morphed from confusion to pure desire as he reclined his seat and lowered it.

“I didn’t hear you, pretty girl. Wanna repeat that for me?” He moved his hand from under yours and used the leverage of your lowered guard to manhandle you across the center console and into his lap.

You stable yourself with your hands on his chest, but your focus was completely on the way his mouth twisted and curved with every word he spoke.

“I understand.” He prides himself in the fucked out look on your face and he hadn’t so much as glanced at the pussy he’s so rightfully claimed as his.

“Good girl. Always so good for me, yeah? With the exception of tonight of course,” He laces his fingers in between yours and lands them gently in his lap as he regards you with a fake look of thoughtfulness. He pulls a faux look of sudden genius before he plasters on the fakest sweet smile he had in him. “I think you owe me an apology, beautiful.”

You nod dumbly at him, waiting for him to give his first command of the night. In the state you were in, you’d be willing to jump if he asked the only question you’d pose is ‘how high’.

“How about…” He dramatically taps his finger on his chin thoughtfully before pinning you with a dangerous look. “… you take those pretty little panties off and show me what’s mine?” You were quick to follow his command, reaching under your dress and fumble with your underwear until you awkwardly got them down your leg and threw them into the passenger seat, where you were sure you were going to lose them.

He hummed in approval before cooly delivering his next command. “Now lay back on my chest. I want you to watch while I show you why no other man could please you the way I do.” And it was like second nature the way you settled into his lap, back lying comfortably against his chest. You both watched with bated breaths as you spread your legs and he couldn’t help but groan at the sound of the strands of slick formed and snapped the wider your legs got.

“Now do me a favor, baby. Don’t take your eyes off my hands, okay? Can you do that for me?” You hum out an agreement and are quickly met with a sharp slap to your pussy. “Use your words, sweetheart.” He mutters, sinisterly, into your ear. His tongue peaked out and swiped over your earlobe before he continued to pepper kisses all over the back of your neck and the parts of your shoulder the dress exposed. One of his hands stroked the inside of your thigh, just out of reach from where you wanted him, while the other languidly rubbed circles into the skin of your stomach right under your hiked up dress.

You gasp at the sharp pain of the slap— it immediately turned into a moan as he rewarded you with an apologetic rub to your neglected clit.

“I can do it.” You mumble out, lips trembling a little. He was quick to catch that and the way your eyes watered as well.

“Look at you, baby. Already crying and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled darkly and you had half a mind to wonder if this was affecting him as much as it was you, if it were for the twitch of his cock and the jerking of his hips right under your ass.

He circled his thumb on your clit in slow circles, staring intently at your face. He cursed under his breath at the way your head dropped back on his shoulder and let out a moan he could feel resonating through his whole body.

“Look at that, baby. Look at the mess you're making.” You lift your head to see the mess you’d created on the crotch of his jeans and leather seat of the car. He hadn’t even breeched your weeping pussy but that didn’t stop you from dripping a puddle underneath you.

You groan and raise your hand over your eyes in embarrassment, much to his dismay and his quick to let you know.

“No, No, honey. Put your hands down. Let me see that pretty little face.” Any other time you’d probably aim to wipe the stupid — but handsome — grim off of his face, but the way his hands roamed and his deep chuckle resonated through your whole body like ground rumbling thunder had you burrowing yourself further into his embrace. You dropped your hands from your face and craned your neck to get a good look at his face.

The guy was handsome on a good day and absolutely, panty droppingly sexy on a bad one. You lucked out with this one. You were easily reminded when the hand that was on your stomach slid seductively up your chest, past your neck and gripped your chin.

He softly jerked your head in the direction of the steering wheel. He tsked at you teasingly and bestowed a strategically placed kiss on the back of your neck. “Pay attention, baby. Don’t disobey now.” You could hear the sheer glee in his voice.

His thumb continued its ministrations, only speeding up when you jerked your hips in search of more. He wasn’t going to give you much more of anything until you asked, but he couldn’t really torture you the way he should. Not when you moaned and mewled so prettily the way you were. And it was all just for him.

He watched as you squirmed and arched and he knew just what you needed. He watched your face screw up in utter euphoria as you gasped, begging for more. Your voice was pitched up and you were practically whining but it was music to his ears. The way he could break you down to nothing and build you back up again, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What is it that you want, honey? Tell me. I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me.” He slowed his thumb down and listened in utter amusement as you groaned in protest.

“Don’t… don’t stop. Keep going.” Your words were slurring together and your tongue was heavy in your mouth. Your chest was heaving and there wasn’t a single thought in your brain.

“Tell me what you need.” His words were clipped like he was angry but you could feel the weight of his fingers continuing to grip your chin and the grip grew tighter the longer the silence stretched.

You groaned in frustration as his thumb slowed completely to a stop. “I want you. Your fingers. Your cock I want it all. Please.” You begged and wiggled your ass over his dick as a last ditch attempt to convince him.

It didn’t do much but amuse him and harden his cock until it was straining against his jeans. He was composed otherwise and if it weren’t for your fucked out state, you’d be working harder to change that. But you were desperate. Sweat had started to accumulate on your forehead and your legs were beginning to cramp. It was insane the way he could turn you into a shell of yourself in mere minutes.

“Then be still, pretty.” And as if he controlled your every move, you stopped. And his grin was shit eating.

“Good girl.” And just like they’d never left, his fingers were exactly where you needed them. He circled your entrance teasingly before plunging knuckle deep.

His fingers were languid and lazy in their stroke and thumb brushed leisurely against your clit. You gasped for air and easily accommodated the intrusion.

He listened blissfully as you whimpered and groaned quietly. It would be too much like him to continue like this until you clumsily stumbled over the edge. Tonight, however, you would have to work for it.

You preened and arched your back when he quickened his pace. “Feel good, honey?” He muttered sardonically into your ear. But you answered anyway, moaning out a loud yes.

He kept his pace, allowing the palm of his hand to slam against your clit and it wasn’t long before the telltale signs of your approaching release became more and more apparent.

You gripped his wrist and whispered continuously for him to ‘Keep going’ and ‘Don’t stop’. You sounded so pretty and he felt a little bad when he did what he did next.

“You close, baby?” He asked, faux interest dripping from his words like venom. You hummed and responded, too lost in the feeling he induced.

Then, it was all gone. His hand, the feeling of his breath on the nape of your neck, the trance inducing words. All of it. He’d completely withdrawn from you all together.

“Guess you’ll have to wait.” He said, false concern lapping away at his words. “Don’t want to ruin your fun.” He deposited you gently back into your seat and ignored the tears welling up in your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

201 notes · View notes

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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winter-dayz · 7 months

Text

I Can't Lose You

Pairing: Lim Jaebeom x Reader Deadly Games AU; Inspired by Squid Game & Alice in Borderland Genre: Angst; Horror Words: 2104 Warnings: murder; torture; violence

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist: @soobin-chois

“10.” She jumped from square to square carefully but with incredible haste. The monotone countdown nearly made her steps stumble, yet she remained sturdy and hurriedly finished the obstacle she was on.

“9.” He had already finished this trial several minutes ago and stood staring at her from behind the finish line, watching with creased brows and his lip tight between his teeth. She wished that she could soothe his worries, but even once she finishes this trial, there’d be no solace in the victory.

One trial led to the next, and they only increased in difficulty as they progressed. They’d been promised answers and to be released at the end of the “games,” but no indication for how many or how long it all would take.

She had woken up next to her newly ex-boyfriend in a large empty warehouse surrounded by another fifty or so others that also had no recollections of getting there.

The last obstacle of this trial was, of course, the most daunting and required more time to cross than she had left. In front of her was a thirty-foot long beam. On either side was a bottomless pit.

For those who had completed other obstacles in a faster manner, they’d had plenty of time to carefully cross the narrow stretch of concrete. It was the least deadly obstacle so far, but the longer you took on the other obstacles, the less time you had to carefully cross the final one.

“8.” Y/N had eight seconds to get to the other side. Never before had she felt so disheartened but determined. Jaebeom stood on the opposite end, waiting with bated breath. She had to do this.

She placed one foot on the skinny path, testing her balance before quickly placing one foot after another in quick succession. She got halfway across before wobbling; she took in a quick intake of air as she swayed in her spot before steadying and letting the air escape again.

“4.” Her heart thundered in her ears and she nearly missed that wretched deep voice relaying the remaining trial time. A glance was shared between the two, and then she looked back to her feet.

Each step felt as though it’d be her last. Each beat in her chest felt like it wasn’t enough. She’d stopped breathing the minute she started balance-running again. It wouldn’t be enough time.

“3. 2.” She stumbled. One foot caught on the other in her reckless haste.

“1.” Arms wrapped around her and pulled her the rest of the way forward. They tumbled onto the hard floor, but she had made it. Looking to the side, her eyes were captured by the dark depths of familiarity already staring back at her. They did not speak.

🎃

Neverending. She thought they’d never see freedom again. Stuck to whatever building, realm, life they’d been trapped in. She noticed his eyes on her more frequently.

Towards the end of their relationship, he had hardly glanced at her. Unimportant; she’d never felt so unimportant and irrelevant in her life than when she was with him.

Now it was like his eyes were made to solely look after her form. She felt pinned by his gaze. There was no question as to why. Obviously, she’d almost met her maker, and now, he felt responsible for keeping her alive.

That wouldn’t do. Y/N would not be anyone’s liability but her own. This was not the place to rely on another person for getting through the trials. One could die at any moment, and then what? Sit and wait for your own death because your partner couldn’t carry you along? No.

They were led by lights to their next trial. She was determined to get through this on her own.

🎃

They were told they’d need to navigate the maze to reach the door. But upon entering the room, the remaining fifteen were met with walls of mirrors. Some had symbols etched into the surface.

Someone mentioned the trick of following the left wall until they found the exit. It’d probably work, if they had the time for such a tedious method. But time was once again against them.

The entire group would only have five minutes to reach the door once someone entered the maze. Anyone left in the maze at the end would be suffocated with poisonous gas.

The group began debating the smartest methods or strategies. Y/N walked closer to one of the entrances, cautious not to step inside the bounds. She inspected the symbols on the mirrors.

She glanced behind her, but none of the others had realized she’d stepped away. Even Jaebeom no longer had his sights glued to her. Instead, he was arguing with another trial runner over who knows what.

When she looked back to the mirrors she noticed something else hidden within their confines. As she tilted her head and stepped side to side, she saw a distorted image reflected below each symbol.

One showed an arrow pointing to the right. The next was too difficult to make out in its current distortion. The next she was just barely able to recognize it to be a dead end sign. And the last symbol almost looked to be a door.

As she turned to announce her findings, she realized that only a few people remained, and when she saw the clock, it was ticking down closer to four minutes.

Jaebeom had waited for her but was urging her to follow the left wall strategy. But really, if you stopped to think about that strategy in this situation, it made no sense at all since there were four entrances to begin with. So which left wall do you start at?

“That’s not how this maze works, JB.” Y/N stopped him from entering the path with the reflection she couldn’t make out. “Follow me. I think I figured it out, but I can only explain while we’re walking. There’s not enough time.” She declared, moving towards the reflection of the distorted door. He began to follow, but attempted to protest only to be cut off by his former girlfriend.

“Look, five minutes wouldn’t be enough time to wander a maze of this size aimlessly until you find the end. And even following one wall the entire time would just lead to constant dead ends. Plus, there were four entrances, so it’d be hard to decide which starting point was the correct one anyway.” She paused, looking closely into the mirror again.

Behind her, she noticed Jaebeom listening intently, but with confusion on his face as he tried to decipher what she was doing.

“So… there had to be some sort of clue to where to start and how to get to the end. I saw the four symbols immediately,” she explained, pointing up at the symbol above them, “but it took me a while to figure out that they correlated to the distorted image below them. When I turned around to tell everyone, they’d already started. But this one has a door in its reflection.” She picked up into a jog as they turned into a long corridor of the maze.

🎃

They were not the only ones to make it out of the maze. But their group had dwindled down significantly. A measly six remained.

Once again they were led by lights to the next area. Jaebeom grabbed her arm, holding her back.

“I want to talk–” He started, but she stepped away.

“This is not the place for whatever you’re wanting to say to me.” She shook her head. The last time he had uttered those words, it’d been to end their relationship. She couldn’t risk something like that clouding her focus here.

The lights above them shut off, urging them to keep moving. Her lips thinned out as if to say “see?” She turned and continued on, quickly catching up to the others. He watched after her for a moment, but ultimately did the same.

It was their final trial. Two truths and a lie with a twist. The disembodied voice would read out two truths and a lie for a participant. If no one in the group could correctly identify the lie then the participant would be shot through the head.

No one questioned the fact that there weren’t any enforcers or obvious automatic guns present. Rules hadn’t been taken lightly since trial one when a woman had been decapitated after trying to cheat her way through it. The entire warehouse had fallen into a hush at the sight. Some had promptly emptied their stomachs onto the concrete floors, a sweaty man had fainted, and the woman next to her had screamed once realization finally hit. Jaebeom had subtly blocked Y/N’s view, but she had already resolved to look elsewhere by then.

Since that moment, rules were not to be tried against. If it was promised, then no one was curious enough to test those limits.

The monotone voice read out the three facts of one of the random players. The man was mindful of his reactions and kept to a careful poker face. They’d all assumed that hinting toward answers would be considered cheating.

Both Jaebeom and Y/N stayed quiet on this turn, not having learned anything about this man in their time here. Not that there was much down-time for chatting and story-sharing. Thankfully, one of the other three had correctly detected the lie.

“Y/N’s biggest fear is being forgotten by those she cares about.” She tensed in her seat as her turn came. Her eyes had been cast to the ceiling since round two when they’d all failed to guess the lie for the young man.

“Y/N has only been in one relationship.” Jaebeom eyed her from his seat in the circle. His eyebrow twitched, but he waited for the final option.

“Y/N cheated on her last boyfriend.” A scoff resounded out into the room. Eyes flung to Jaebeom’s outraged figure. He stayed quiet only staring at her indignantly.

The others in the room had long since picked up on the connection between the two. None had been sure if it was a romantic or kin relationship, but they’d all recognized the familiarity and allyship.

But at his reaction, they assumed it meant the former was true and took that as a sign of an easy round. The other three in the room all spoke aloud their guess: number two was the lie.

Jaebeom watched as a silent tear fell down the side of her face. She remained staring at the ceiling, resolute in not giving away any answer. She was sure she’d be done for. Either Jaebeom would abstain from guessing just to spite her, or he’d stay firm in his belief that she cheated on him—which had been the cause of their breakup.

“Number 3 is the lie.” He spoke up loud, clear, and firm. Silence ensued.

The ex-couple woke up in Jaebeom’s apartment, slumped down on his couch. Neither of them questioned how they got there. A letter sat in front of them, the outside void of any sender. Both refrained from reaching for it. They knew that the answers to whatever had just happened, and why, would await them inside; neither found it that enticing to find out yet.

“We need to talk.” He started, gulping down his nerves. She stared at the hard wood floors beneath her socked feet. Whoever returned them was kind enough to leave their shoes at the front door.

“Do we?” She spoke up. What was there to discuss, really? He hadn’t trusted her the first time. Was a life-or-death situation the only solution to looking at things from her perspective? That wasn’t a relationship she saw worth saving.

“I can’t lose you. I will do whatever I have to in order to prove that to you. I’ll do whatever I have to so that we can work things out. I should’ve trusted you before. I should’ve known that the things I’d been told weren’t true.” He blew out the air that had built up in his lungs. “I can’t lose you.” He stated again. “No one out there will understand each other the way we do anymore. No one did before anyway… No one got me like you did. Please, Y/N. I want to make things right between us.” He waited. His eyes roamed her face as he watched for any change in her features.

“Me too…” She breathed out with a strained expression, but reached out to take his hand in her own.

#got7 #lim jaebeom #reader #lim jaebeom x reader #got7 x reader #angst #horror #deadly games au #squid game #alice in borderland #oneshot #fictober

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h00mandied · 6 months

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🌧️🎶

비가 내리고 음악이 흐르면 난 당신을 생각해요 당신이 떠나시던 그 밤에 이렇게 비가 왔어요 비가 내리고 음악이 흐르면 난 당신을 생각해요 당신이 떠나시던 그 밤에 이렇게 비가 왔어요

When rain falls and the music flows, I think of you That night when you left it was raining like this When rain falls and the music flows, I think of you That night when you left it was raining like this 난 오늘도 이 비를 맞으며 하루를 그냥 보내요 오 아름다운 음악같은 우리의 사랑의 이야기들은 흐르는 비처럼 너무 아프기 때문이죠 오 As I stand in the rain today too, I let the day pass by Oh, like a beautiful music our love stories are hurtful just like the flowing rain

난 오늘도 이 비를 맞으며 하루를 그냥 보내요 오 아름다운 음악같은 우리의 사랑의 이야기들은 흐르는 비처럼 너무 아프기 때문이죠 오 그렇게 아픈 비가 왔어요 As I stand in the rain today too,I let the day pass by Oh, like a beautiful music our love stories are hurtful just like the flowing rain Oh and then the sad rain fell

***

#jay b #jinyoung #lim jaebeom #park jinyoung #jj project #jjp #bnyoung #bnior #got7 #moodboard #rainyday #rain #like rain like music #lyric #kim hyunshik #mood #angst #Spotify

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sweetestofchaos · 2 years

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Gᴏᴛ7 Rᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ...𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: 𝖳𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎

a/n: For the life of me, I cannot remember who requested this...I know it was a while ago. So yeah, sorry for the wait! I hope you enjoy this one.

Mark

Mark would just stare at Jackson with wide eyes for a few seconds before he caught himself and looked down at his folded hand in his lap. Jackson liked you too, huh? Well, shit. Now what was he supposed to do? Jackson was his boy, one of his best friends. Did he really want to put that all on the line just to maybe get the chance to call you his? Mark sighed and shook his head before he spoke up.

“I like y/n too…I have for a while now.” Mark could see the worry on Jackson’s face, thankfully he was in the same mindset as him. “I-I already asked them on a date, and they agreed.”

Jaebeom

Jaebeom wouldn’t be surprised at all. He knew someone was bound to see how great of a person you were, so why wouldn’t it have been Mark. Now the question was what were the two of them going to do about it. At the end of the day, him and Mark were boys. Bros before hoes as they say, right?

Jaebeom laughed and shrugged his shoulders, “If you like them, ask em out Hyung. You would look good together.”

Jackson

Jackson would feel like his world was crashing down around him. Why? Of all the people in the world, Youngjae had to like you. The one person that made Jackson’s heart go into overtime with just a smile or wave of their hand. No, this was horrible. Jackson wouldn’t be afraid to let Youngjae know that he feels the same way about you. If anything, Jackson would make it a point to let Youngjae know, no matter what they would still be cool.

“How can you like, Y/N? They’re supposed to be with me!” *dramatic screaming that he does*

Jinyoung

Jinyoung wouldn’t even be bothered to hear that Bambam has feelings for you. He knew he was bound to have a rival, but he didn’t feel threatened by Bambam at all. He knew you like the back of his hand and Bambam wasn’t your type. Jinyoung would smirk to himself and pat Bambam on the shoulder. He would encourage him to say something. Jinyoung would rather you break the news to Bambam about liking someone else rather than do it himself.

“Give it a shot, Bambam. I wish you luck.”

Youngjae

Youngjae would feel bad, extremely guilty for even liking the same person as Yugyeom. How did they fall for the same person? Didn’t that only happen on tv? Youngjae would confess to Yugyeom that he liked you too and the two of them would be at a standstill. The cinnamon roll of the group versus the baby of the group…oh no.

“Have y-you said anything to y/n? Do they like you?”

Bambam

Bambam would be in shock. There is no way that his Hyung, his leader would have feelings for the same person as him. No freaking way! How the hell can that even be real? Jaebeom liking you? Bambam would snort and flat out tell Jaebeom to let you go. He wouldn’t be mean about it but come on. He’s old and Bambam is young!

“Come on gramps, like there’s even a competition between the two of us.” Bambam would joke and Jaebeom would let him try to win your heart.

Yugyeom

WAR. The end all be all…no second chances. This was going to be brutal and Yugyeom was ready to win your heart. He loved Jinyoung like an older brother, but you were someone so very special to his heart. You were the only other person that really understood Yugyeom and didn’t treat him like a little kid. You treated him like a man, and he was going to prove himself.

“Hyung, y/n is very special to me…are you sure they mean as much to you?”

#soc got7 #mark tuan #lim jaebeom #jackson wang #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom #got7 angst #got7 reactions #soc requests #request 32 #got7 x gn reader

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holdinbacksecrets · 2 years

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𓏸𓂃boyfriend things╰𓏸 in a letter… to say the least

◞✧𓏯 ⸝⸝⸝ in that yearning state with heartache 💌 for my fellow nct, bts, svt, got7 enthusiasts ⊹◞✿

♡don’t forget about our histories, and the way they’re wrapped up together, well-acquainted, quite familiar… to say the least

♡don’t forget about our laughter, and the way yours lifted higher in my presence, falling into something comfortable and free

♡don’t forget our sleeping together, and the routine we created, something impossible to know without the other. i’m still getting used to emptiness; we’re becoming well-aquatinted… to say the least

♡don’t forget about the open windows, and the way i endured- softened in cold breeze. the annoyance you came to know because the heating bill spiked over my strange way of finding delight

♡don’t forget about the friends who told me i wasn’t enough for you, over the lunch we planned for my birthday. i couldn’t believe the gift i came to receive. was that the first straw or the last?

♡don’t forget about the dresser drawers and the morning i spent cleaning out my closet, my bedroom, rearranging my things so happily for you. the beams we shared and memorized in october when our love settled into the walls and furniture

♡don’t forget the times we spoke about forever, imagining ourselves as that elderly couple the young ones will coo over. i promised myself you would know me until there wasn’t anything new to learn. i promised myself it would be worth letting you in. and it was, but i miss you… to say the least.

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mykoreanlove · 2 months

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GOT7

🖤 JINYOUNG

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

🖤 JACKSON

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

🖤 JAEBEOM

can I see you tonight?

🖤 YOUNGJAE

spillthetea.fm

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3raaaachachacha · 2 years

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1:01 am

Im Jaebeom x female reader / 503 words / angst / fluff

Warnings: cursing, miscommunication, mentions of anxiety

66. “I’m never leaving…I promise.”

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

It was late, but you were hoping your boyfriend would return home soon. He had moved companies to finally create the music he wanted without being constantly criticized for his unique taste. It was one of the happiest you had ever seen Jaebeom, even though he would be parting from the boys for a bit to create music alone, he knew it would be worth it and you would be there to support him until they returned.

You opened Twitter to see a shocking headline, ‘GOT7’s JB seen at the airport to move to the US after signing with Universal Records’. You felt your body begin to shake with anxiety. It had been a few days since you last saw Jaebeom since he was at the company making music, but you never once thought he would leave for the States without telling you? You jumped up from your shared bed, grabbing your jacket and purse and running out the door. You looked like a mess yet you could care less. You knew he had signed with Universal Records after leaving JYP, but moving to another continent? He wouldn’t, not without telling you.

You tried calling him over and over again, only to be met by his answering tone each time, “What the fuck is going on JB?” You quickly made your way into this company building, scanning your pass before moving towards the elevator to find which room he was in, hoping to god he actually wasn’t at the airport.

“Jaebeom! JB! Where are you?” You cried, feeling the hot tears rolling down your pink cheeks, “Baby, where are you? Please tell me you didn’t actually leave,” You continued to sob as you fell to the ground in the hallway.

You heard a door open before a pair of hands were placed on your back and then wrapped around you, “Y/N? Y/N, what are you doing here? It’s so late. Are you okay? Why are you crying baby?” You lifted your head to see your boyfriend staring down at you with panic in his eyes as he examined your face to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You threw yourself into his chest, tightly holding onto him as if he was to leave and never come back, “Please don’t leave! I saw the headline of you leaving to the States and you didn’t answer my calls.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” He hugged you even tighter, wanting to show you how sorry he was, “That was a rumor the media outlets made up since I was at the airport recently to get a new passport for when we go and visit Mark next. I wouldn’t just leave like that, especially without telling you,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you sniffled up at him.

“Please never leave me. I’ve never been so scared in my life,” You tried your best not to cry anymore.

Jaebeom smiled down at you before placing a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I’m never leaving…I promise.”

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

- Admin 🦋

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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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limjaeseven · 7 months

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Antidote

Pairing: Jaebeom X Mark / Jaebeom X Youngjae

Genre: Angst, Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1,362

Summary: Things haven't been looking up for Jaebeom for for god knows how long. Mark was the one person who was supposed to make things better, but there was a limit even to that.

Warning(s): Mental breakdowns, self neglect

[a/n]: So I haven't posted anything in ages even though I have nearly 20 fics piled up from the past two years. I'm finally taking the initiative to post them (fingers crossed). This fic was originally written for the kpop bingo collab which closed a while back but here it is anyways. I hope you enjoy!

Jaebeom didn’t know when it went from just a bad day every now and then to struggling to get out of bed every morning. Things were going fine, and the next thing he knew, they weren’t.

Coming home to his boyfriend Mark used to be his favourite part of the day, but their small quarrels had become fights that left them not sharing a word for days. Jaebeom didn’t have the energy to keep the distance but Mark drew his lines thick and deep, and Jaebeom couldn’t cross them till his boyfriend let him.

Work went from good to alright to a struggle gradually enough that Jaebeom didn’t even realise he was spending one, two, three more hours at work every night. Every day there would be too many files to go through, too many calls to make, too many meetings to attend, too much to do. The stress was making his hair fall out but he just kept going, hoping that just after this project, the next project, the project after that, things would get better.

His steps went from confident and fast paced to dragging, every movement a struggle against his body telling him to stop, to catch a break, to just give everything up.

“So you’re taking the day off for our anniversary, no?” Mark asked from across the dinner table. They had just gotten out of their last fight which consisted of doors slammed in each other’s faces, leaving late at night and coming back early in the morning without informing the other, and a week of eating meals seperately.

“I told you, I really can’t. This client is too important.” Jaebeom knew that the respite from the fight was short, that they would go back to doing what they were doing by midnight.

Mark sighed, frustrated. “I never ask you for anything, Jaebeom. I just want us to spend one day together. It’s our fifth anniversary, doesn’t that mean something to you?”

Nearly on the verge of tears, Jaebeom tried to hold himself together as he spoke. “I know hyung,” Jaebeom knew him using honorifics on the older would relay to him how serious he was, “But there’s nothing I can do. Even if I asked for a holiday my boss would reject it. I can’t lose this job, it’s everything I have. You know how much I love you but I just can’t do this for you. We can plan something for the weekend after, maybe?”

Mark looked conflicted, understanding his boyfriend on an intellectual level but the primal part of him hurt and torn apart, that his lover couldn’t spare him one day when it mattered the most.

“We both know that you’ll be busy on the weekend too, you don’t have time for me anymore. Not talking to you when you’re home is futile because you never even are. I know your job is hectic and meaningful to you, Jaebeom, but I need to see you, spend time with you, talk to you to be able to be with you. If I’m just seeing you twice a week in our home and we’re fighting for most of it, there’s no point in us going on like this.”

Jaebeom knew what those words meant but he couldn’t accept it. There was no way Mark was implying that, was there? He wouldn’t ever think of such a thing, would he? Mark had been his better half for as long as he could remember. They were practically married, they were ride or die, right?

The world came closing around Jaebeom and he couldn’t hold onto anything by the time he realised. His body shook and his throat closed. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear. He was trapped and he didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know how long he sat on the floor of their kitchen, curled in foetal position, with Mark trying to get his breathing to even out. Jaebeom hadn’t had a panic attack in years and it scared both of them.

“Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go,” Jaebeom mumbled over and over again, hands clutching tightly at Mark’s sides. He could see the tears streaming down his lover’s face, and he knew what the expression on his face meant. He knew it was the end and he didn’t know what to do but cry.

Mark left a week later. Jaebeom had just returned from work and he saw the suitcases sitting in the living room. He knew this day was coming for a while, but he still hadn’t entirely processed it. They had spent every evening after that night together, a respectable distance between them as Mark spoke about the end. He wasn’t one to sugar coat, he wouldn’t talk about his day at work and pretend like they weren’t ending the relationship they built brick by brick.

He had stayed a few days longer just to make sure Jaebeom was okay, because even though they weren’t right for each other anymore, Mark still loved him. Still, saying goodbye wasn’t any easier. They hugged each other for what felt like hours, crying quietly into each other’s arms, till Mark had to pull away, his best friend at the door to help him out.

Jaebeom crumbled to the floor the moment the door closed. He slept there that night, waking up well into the afternoon. Emailing his boss an apology, who let him take the rest of the day off, he got to tidying up his house, trying not to cry every time he saw the empty spots where Mark’s things sat.

He knew he should have tried harder, but it was as if his body was working on autopilot and he was just going along on the ride. He knew Mark had every right to leave, that it had been building up for a long time, but it didn’t hurt any less. Jaebeom cried more times that day than he probably had in all of his life.

It was less that two weeks later that he collapsed at work and had to be taken to the hospital. Jaebeom hadn’t been eating, he barely had anything more than coffee to keep himself up and running. His body had finally given in and it took him nearly two days to get back to consciousness. The nurse who looked after him was a woman about his mother’s age, who chided him for being so careless, and convinced him to try therapy out.

Reluctantly, Jaebeom made a visit to the psychiatrist in the hospital where he was admitted, and he had to admit, just talking about what he was going through to someone helped. After he was discharged, he came back once a week, poured his heart out and listened carefully. They put him on some medication and slowly the dark clouds thinned out, sunlight peaking through the cracks.

After one of the sessions, Jaebeom found a man a few years younger than him sitting in the waiting room outside his psychiatrist’s office. He was undeniable pretty, Jaebeom thought, shooting him a quick smile before leaving.

As the weeks passed, he saw the boy over and over again, and they went from friendly waves to small talk between their sessions. Jaebeom found out that the man’s name was Choi Youngjae, that he was only two years younger than him and worked as a piano teacher.

“Hyung, do you want to meet up sometime?” Youngjae asked Jaebeom when the older let him know that his psychiatrist told him he had recovered enough for them to stop the sessions.

Smiling, Jaebeom pulled his phone out and handed it to Youngjae, “I would love to.” He didn’t know if it was too soon, but the way the younger man’s smile lit up his world every time they spoke, he was willing to give it a shot.

#got7writerscollective #rainingmxmnet #got7 fanfic #got7 imagines #got7 mark #got7 jaebeom #got7 jay b #got7 youngjae #angst #got7 angst #got7 #jaebeom #jay b #youngjae #mark

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your-rose-highness · 2 years

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Tell me what is love (Ch 17)

Chapter 17

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

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

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

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

“Whoa. she’s a bright kid..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Byun Baekhyun.

The class clown.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embrace it, she said.

And he did.

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

Kiss her again.

“Kiss her…” chanted his brain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soon, she heard a knock on her door.

“hyehee?” he knocked. “You up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You already had fruit, though.”

“Huh?”

He pointed at the apple core leftovers on her nightstand.

Fuck. Evidence.

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“Wake up slowly; I’ll cook.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He peeped in.

Jaebeom ❤️: Hey…

Jaebeom ❤️: I cannot apologize for yesterday enough.

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

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

Jaebeom ❤️: forgive me, please.

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

The phone rang as he reread the texts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He called you.”

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

“Sorry if I am protective of you.”

“Why? What am I in your life?”

“You are not asking me that question….”

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

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

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

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

He slammed the door again.

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

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

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

Baekhyun was annoyed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you talk in full sentences?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” he sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Sarang….”

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

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

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

“Really?” she wondered.

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

“But you were never the jealous type….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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