#got7 fic

[jinxhallows]

ɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ | ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☾ -- ɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ

ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ, 𝟷𝟾+, ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴜsᴇ, ғᴏᴏᴅᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ

ᴡᴄ: 𝟸.𝟹ᴋ

So I wrote this originally in a discord brainrot with @gdragonsideburns (who ALSO WRITES INCREDIBLE SHIT) because although I am a smooth 30, I'm currently driving this song into an early grave and it made me think of Jackson Wang in the jungle? Do Jackson Wang fics even exist on here? Well, here's one.

"Dearest old man, on this most joyous occasion of your birthday, I bring forth a small token of my affection."  

You call out teasingly in an over the top accent, and carefully place the delicate porcelain plate onto the table, adorned with a magnificent gourmet cupcake, a tropical wonder, complete with a sparkler glowing brightly at its center. The chocolate syrup on top of the plate spells out a heartfelt message from the resort staff,  

"Happy 29th Birthday, Jackson Wang from China." 

His face lights up with an infectious grin as he reads the message out loud.  

"Ah, that's definitely me," he exclaims, reaching out to blow the sparkler out like a candle. But to his surprise, it doesn't extinguish. He shakes it slightly and turns to you. 

"It burns for twenty-nine seconds, because that's how old you are," you quip with a mischievous glint in your eye. 

He looks at you in wonderment, his brows furrowing in confusion. "How do they get it to last exactly twenty-nine seconds?" he asks, genuinely curious. 

You chuckle, knowing he's fallen for your playful trick. "They don't," you say, picking up the remaining sparkler and pushing the plate towards him. "You just believe anything I tell you." 

He rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now that's a lie. I don't believe 99.9% of what comes out of that pretty mouth of yours." With a cheeky grin, he dips his finger into the icing and taps your nose, before bringing it to his lips to savor the delicious taste. 

“Thanks for thinking of me, baby.” he murmurs in a gentle tone, his eyes fixated on the delectable dessert before him. 

The soothing sound of the rain pouring down through the dense Amazonian trees provides a tranquil ambiance. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the lush rainforest, with mist creeping up from the warm forest floor. You observe him as he peels off the cupcake paper, sinking his teeth into its side. The coconut shavings crumble onto his exposed tattooed torso. He brushes the crumbs off his skin, just below his navel, where his gray sweatpants meet his briefs, emitting a soft rustling sound. Tilting his head to the side, he takes another bite, letting out a satisfied "mm" at the delectable taste. 

He glances over at you, oblivious to how enraptured you had become with his reaction. "Wanna try?" he offers, extending the cupcake towards you. However, you wave your hand, declining the tropical delight. 

"I hate coconut flavored stuff," you make a face in distaste. 

"Really? Since when? Why didn't I know that?" he queries, taking another bite and shaking his head to brush away the strands of chestnut brown hair from his face. 

“Because thankfully, you’ve never fucked up royally enough to get me coconut flavored anything; and I love you all the more for it.” As you rise from your seat, you feel the cool, marble floor beneath the balls of your feet, and make your way over to the Bluetooth speaker. The room is sparsely furnished, and the sound of mellow Afrobeat mixed with R&B piano and the soothing notes of steel pans fills the air. 

Suddenly, you feel something cold and flat pressed against your lower back, just above the curve of your hips. You look up at his reflection in the mirror, both of your gazes locking before your eyes fall to the bottle of patron silver he was conveniently using you as a table for; oh but Jackson’s a gentleman, he’s got himself pressed up against your ass, and your ample thighs; he’s keeping you nice and steady while he expertly pours a shot, which he sets down with a satisfying "clink" on the nearby table. 

Jackson's second attempt at pouring is a bit messier, causing droplets of the cool liquid to splash against your warm skin, and you slightly jump at the feeling.  It was the way the bottom half of your cheeks jiggled from underneath your shorts, however, that earned you a firm grasp and smack as he throws his shot back, relishing in the sight of your body responding to his touch. With a mischievous grin, he leans down to lap up the stray droplets from your lower back as you blissfully sigh from how good he was pressing all your buttons. 

“Take your shot, I wanna test somethin’.” 

He takes a step back, and you slowly stand up, tossing back the tequila before turning around to face him. 

“Hear me out, try chasing with it.” He walks over to the table, and you admire the flexion in his back muscles as he moves.  He picks up the cupcake, undeniably sexy as he licks it off his finger.  He can tell he’s got you right where he wants you, your eyes never leave him. 

“Chasing tequila, with a coconut cupcake?  You’re gonna have to show me, ‘cause it’s not sounding too appealing yet.” 

“I’m glad you asked, lie down for me sweetheart, let me show you exactly what I mean.” 

As you crawl onto the plush mattress, Jackson follows suit, climbing on top of you. The sight of him, flushed from the drinks he had earlier, is enough to make your heart skip a beat. He chuckles at your confusion, but how could you not be confused? He's holding a half-eaten cupcake in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other, straddling your body. But despite the mischievous glint in his eye, you can't help but find him utterly irresistible. In this remote, remarkable place, far away from the rest of the world, he has you all to himself, and he's clearly up to no good. 

"Hold this for me," he says, handing over the cupcake. As you take it, he takes a thick swipe of icing from the dessert. He pushes the bottom of your tank top up just enough for the bottom of your breasts to peek out from under the black, scrunched fabric. 

"Jackson, what are you--" you start to ask, but he interrupts you as he paints a straight line of icing down the midline of your stomach, stopping right at your navel. His eyes hold your gaze captive as he slips his finger with the remaining icing between your lips.  

As you obediently suck on his finger, feeling the curve of his knuckle and the lines dividing his long digit into printed pads, he lets out a satisfied laugh and proudly declares,  

"I thought you hated coconut flavored shit?" 

You take his finger further into your mouth, coaxing it in with your tongue. Despite your initial reservations, you can't deny the pleasure you feel from this. He pulls his hand away from your oral fixation with a scoff and a smirk. Taking a swig of tequila, he looks down at you like you're his next biggest conquest.  

Aries men have a thing for that – a conquest. 

He dips his tongue into your navel, licking the sweet trail all the way up to where your shirt is bunched up. You gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking down at him knowingly. "You know exactly what you're doing," you say. 

"I'm teaching you how to broaden your palate," he responds smoothly, wasting no time in taking the cupcake back from you and exchanging it with the bottle of tequila instead.   

The cool air circling in the room feels extra sensitive on the wet skin of your stomach, and it turns your nipples into erect, sensitive nubs, poking proudly through the thin fabric of your tank.  You push yourself up a little more, so you can sit up straight.   

You look up at him as he holds the cupcake out for you to take a sample from.  You swipe your finger in the thick, buttercream icing, and your eyes dance down his chiseled torso, deciding where you were going to take this experiment. 

Your body is trembling with anticipation as you slide your fingers over the waistband of his briefs, feeling the heat radiating from his body. You lean in closer, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of tequila and cupcakes filling your senses. Your tongue traces the trail of soft, delicate hairs leading down from his belly button, savoring the sweet taste of his skin. 

You slowly trace a thick line just above his navel, reveling in the way his muscles twitch under your touch. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin flushed and warm from the tequila. You trail the icing down his smooth, taut stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his briefs. 

You can't resist the urge to pull them down just a little, just enough to expose the tempting V-line leading down from his abs. With a steady hand, you spread the remaining icing right where you want it. Jackson watches you with dark, intense eyes, his breaths coming in ragged. 

Jackson’s eyes flicker with surprise and desire as he helps you by tugging at the sides of his pants, pulling them down even further. The sight of his hardness tenting the front of his sweatpants, the print pushing through the slate grey of his briefs, is almost too much for you to handle. He's always had an aura of mystery and excitement about him, and the way he's looking at you now only adds to his allure.  

He sets the cupcake aside and lifts your face up to meet his gaze, you can feel your cheeks heat up under his intense stare. His hand under your chin is firm, holding you steady, but his touch is gentle. You can see the lust in his eyes, but there's also a hint of tenderness there. 

"Give me the tequila, baby," he says, his voice low and husky. You hand him the bottle, your fingers brushing against his as you do. His tongue darts out to swipe over his lower lip, and you feel weak in the knees. 

With a little squeeze of your chin, he prompts you to open your mouth, and you do so eagerly. You can feel the warmth of his body as he moves in closer, his hips tilted towards you. He's always found you uniquely stunning, in a way that appealed to him on a primal level, and right now, it's as though he can't resist the urge to explore every inch of you.  

As you wait, your breath catching in your throat, Jackson's gaze flickers over your face and down to your lips, before he takes a long swig of the tequila first.  He swishes it around in his mouth before swallowing, and he pours a stream of it into your open mouth, letting go and allowing you to cringe as you push it down your throat.  You quickly stick your tongue out, desperate to get rid of the alcohol taste.  You grab his pants, pulling him closer and licking the buttercream trail from his skin.  You pull his briefs down, maybe a little too enthusiastically, to get to the rest, and his stiff cock springs out.  The head is red, smeared with clear pre-cum that had oozed out while he was toying with you earlier. 

As soon as you felt the cool liquor pass your lips, your mouth began to water. You take him in, savoring the feel of him filling your mouth. His substantial length stretches you, and you wrap your lips around him tightly, feeling every ridge and vein as you slide him deeper into your mouth. As your tongue flattens against the bottom of his cock, he hisses at the sensation, his brows knit together in pleasure. His eyes close, and he accidentally holds his breath, lost in the feeling of your mouth on him. 

"Damn, babe," he groans, his voice thick with desire. You can feel him growing harder inside your mouth, and you can't resist sliding your hand down to his base, following the thick curve of your lips with every suck. "Keep doing that, God, it feels so good," he pleads, his hips thrusting gently towards your mouth.   

He probably shouldn’t, but he takes another shot anyway.  He really does want to set the bottle down, but he can’t peel himself from between your pretty lips just yet.  The way your intensity climbs as the liquor kicks in, you take his balls gently in your hand, using all the saliva that had pooled as lubrication to massage them. 

His moans of pleasure fill the room, each one more intense than the last. With his hand covering his face and his other tightly gripping the tequila bottle, it was clear that he was completely lost in the moment. The air was thick with a heady mix of profanity, grunts, and gasps, all signaling his overwhelming pleasure.   

“H-Hold on, hold on—” Jackson somehow finds the inner strength to breathe, to stop you from taking him directly off the edge a lot sooner than he had originally planned.  He drops his hand, revealing his handsome face again.  He stares at you with a look of utter desire and adoration, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead, his hair mussed and sticking to his skin in all the right places. His lips are parted, panting softly as he struggles to regain control of his senses. 

His body is a work of art, every muscle defined and chiseled to perfection. The veins in his arms and neck pulse with intensity, a testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. He looks like a god, a vision of pure masculinity and strength. 

You can see the raw passion in his eyes, the way they fixate on you with such intensity that it makes your heart skip a beat. It's a look that says he wants you more than anything in the world, and nothing else matters in this moment. 

“I wanna fuck you,” 

He breathes out, pointing to the oversized window across from the bed. 

“In the rainforest.” 

☾ -- fin

#jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fic #jackson wang smut #got7 smut #got7 fic #jackson wang fanfic #jackson wang from CHINA #WHY DID I GO FERAL AND WRITE THIS OUT OF NOWHERE #i blame gdragonsideburns

[kpopimaginings]

Goodnight Kisses - JayB

You knew JayB would berate you for still being awake when he got home, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Recently, you'd got into such a routine of going to be together that it just felt wrong trying to sleep when he wasn't there. You'd done everything you normally would before sliding under the covers, but without your  good night kiss and the warmth of your man beside you, you just couldn't drift off.

JayB always promised you you'd still get your good night kiss if you were asleep when he got home but it wasn't the same. When you heard the front door open, you had a brief debate with yourself as to whether or not to feign sleep. As his gentle footsteps approached your room you decided against it, opting to greet JayB instead. You could tell he was trying to be quiet as he entered but you spoke up.

"Jae?"

"Ah, jagiya, why are you awake?" he whispered. There was a slight smile on his face as he spoke, negating any air of annoyance in his words.

"Can't sleep," you complained. "Not without my goodnight kisses."

"Just let me wash up and get changed and you can have all the kisses you want," he replied.

You groaned and stretched your arms out in his direction, hoping to summon him closer.

He chuckled as he approached you, shaking his head. "You're always so clingy when you're tired," he said running a hand through your hair.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his fingers in your hair. All too soon he was pulling away again. Your eyes snapped open as you reached out to grab his hand and put it back. Unfortunately, in your sleepy state, JayB was quicker.

"I'm just getting ready for bed, jagi, then I'm all yours."

You still whined a little as he left you to head to the bathroom but you were for too tired to launch any sort of actual protest.

After far too long, he was climbing into bed behind you, enveloping you in his arms as a kiss was pressed to your shoulder.

"I love you, my needy jagi," he whispered.

You grunted at his teasing and snuggled further into his embrace.

There was a moments silence before you felt his finger tips digging into your waist and tickling you slightly. You squirmed but JayB didn't relent.

"Say it," he demanded.

"Who's needy now?" you retorted.

He tickled you again.

"I love you, too." You told him what he wanted to hear to stop the attack.

"That's better," he replied. "Sleep well."

With one last kiss placed gently on your neck, he held you tightly again, allowing you both to drift off to sleep, comforted by each others presence.

NAVIGATION  |  GOT7 MASTERLIST

#got7 jb #jb got7 #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #got7 #jayb #jb one shot #jayb imagine #jay b #im jaebeom #im jaebum scenarios #jaebeom imagines #jaebeom scenarios #jaebum scenarios #jayb scenarios #jayb oneshot #jayb fluff #got7 fic #got7 fiction #got7 fluff #got7 fanfic #jb imagine #jb imagines #jb scenarios #jayb drabble

[sea-moon-star]

La Dolce Vita || JW

Pairing: Jackson Wang x f.reader

Genre: Fluff, Boyfriend!Jackson

WC: 0.5k

Summary: 11.15am (Grocery Shopping)

A/N: Thanks to BuzzFeed Thirst Tweets & Complex Snacked for providing top tier Jackson content hehe. Totally inspired by real events, this is me being accurate af lmao. 🌊🌙⭐️

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

11.15am (Grocery Shopping)

Dating Jackson meant that you treasured every moment you had together. Owing to his busy schedule, even having him to yourself for an hour felt like a luxury. But often he had chores piled up that needed to be done in that same one hour. And so you'll had made it into a habit to do the most routine things together- from visiting the laundromat to cleaning the house. And he loved doing these domestic things with you, as he was able to shed the skin of being the famous star- Jackson Wang and instead was just Wang Jiaer around you. It meant doing most things together- with puppy Wang following you around everywhere you went. But grocery shopping was the one time you'll split up completely. He turns to the left aisle, you to the right aisle.

Jackson's grocery list

Almond Milk (1 carton)

Pasture raised eggs (2 dozen)

Avocados 3

Zucchini 1

Squash 1

Kale 1

Bell Peppers 3

Broccoli 2

Onions 6

Garlic (more is always better)

Extra lean (90%) beef 1

Salmon 1

Y/N's grocery list

Ramen (nongshim spicy red)

Whole Wheat Bread

Penne Pasta

Parmesan Cheese

Potatoes

Onions

Garlic (more is always better)

Tomatoes

Mushrooms

Chillies

Coke

Clearly, one could see how your food choices could be simply described as veg-junk-spicy and his as non veg-organic-bland. You'll were poles apart, in your palates and had made your peace with the fact. With you, wearing a mask everytime he cooked something that gave off a pungent smell while he rolled his eyes & refused to kiss you when you'd just eaten something spicy that led to your skin feeling on fire.

But before you made it to the cash counter, you smiled at the oppositely laid out carts as you noticed some things in his cart that belonged to you & vice versa. Snacks & desserts held the key to both your hearts. In his cart were your all time favourites- choco pie, lindt & nutella. And you'd curated a list of his childhood treats from China such as rabbit milk candy, shanzha & sunflower seeds.

You knew each other's preferences perfectly & had managed to rub off the taste on the other as well. You could tell in the way he smiled, a grin stretching from ear to ear that he was pleased with your decisions & you chuckled fondly, seeing that he had managed to remember your cravings.

"You do realize we've both picked the cereal and ice cream?" You giggled & said.

"Never too much of those, am I right?" He replied as he shrugged & walked forward to pay the bill as you shook your head & followed him, interlinking your hand into his as he squeezed your hand tight. And while he made small talk with the cashier, you captured a mental snapshot of this perfect little outing, for this was just as joyful and memorable as any other grand date you'd been on. Life with your boyfriend was truly "La Dolce Vita"- a sweet boy, with a sweet tooth & a shopping bag filled with sweets.

"Why so impatient, princess?" He asked as he noticed you tapping your feet & nudging him with your elboe to rush things along. So you smirked & whispered softly in his ear, "I'm just eager to go home & eat some ice cream. Preferably off your abs, like that genius Ahgase suggested in the BuzzFeed thirst tweets video."

"Should've known it was you!! Why go to such great lengths when you could've just asked babe." He crooned back, his gaze so sultrily that you were worried he'd devour you right then & there. And you stood there frozen, as red as the Hawthorne berries in your hand. Waiting & bidding the time, till you finally got home.

Jackson & Y/N's grocery list

Big white rabbit creamy candy

Roasted sunflower seeds (spiced flavor)

Shanzha (dried hawthorne berries)

Lotte Choco Pie

Nutella

Lindt Liquor Chocolates

BR Bavarian Chocolate Ice Cream

Kellogg's Frosted Flakes

THE END. 🌊🌙⭐️

#jackson wang #team wang #ahgase #got7 jackson #got7 #magic man #got7 fic #jackson x reader #jackson wang x reader #wang jiaer #wang puppy #got7 fluff #got7 fanfic #jackson x you #boyfriend Jackson

[sweetestofchaos]

Knock, Knock | L.JB x M.YG

Pairing: Vampire!Jaebeom x Human!Yoongi

Genre: Soulmate AU, Smut, Vampire AU, MxM

Summary: It was a dumb dare, but when Yoongi is double dog dared, he can't say no. So, that's how he finds himself breaking into the old abandon house that sits on the top of a hill in the middle of the forest that borders the edge of the town. Rumor has it that a vampire lives in the house and he is waiting for his soulmate to reincarnate and wake him up.

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: cursing, use of weed and alcohol, breaking and entering, blood, blood drinking, homosexual (male/male) relationships, unprotected sex, anal, oral (m!receiving), fingering, rimming/rimjob, blood play, biting, grinding, dry humping, consensual somnophilia...more to come

CWC: 4.4K

a/n: this is my first real member x member fic of sorts. i am doing this for fun. i have no real plot in mind, only a few scenes. with that said this will not be your normal fic. this is going to be bullet point style because i do not have the energy to build a whole new world and make it this grand plot. if i change my mind before october, i will let you know. black lace divider is from @saradika and mdni/support diver are from @benkeibear. i will have a taglist for this since i won't start posting until october.

Taglist: @theharrowing @minisugakoobies

Prolog

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

#jaebeom fic #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #jaebeom smut #got7 fic #bts fic #vampire au #soulmate au #knock knock masterlist

[nyongsimp]

look, ducks! (pjy)

pjy x female reader word count: 1.3k genre: fluff, slice of life, first snow. warnings: idk if jinyoung likes to play in the snow, but i think it fits him, so you can take this as a warning. mature content: no. a/n: first of all; happy holidays !! i hope you have been having a delightful time, if it isn't your case i do really am sorry and hope that you can have a better time next year, sending hugs for everyone who needs and wants one !! i also wish you a happy new year 2024, it's just around the corner and it feels so bittersweet and yet is another year full of opportunities !! my best wishes go to you all !!

MASTERPOST.

summary: it's your first time spending christmas with your boyfriend, and with help of the first snow, he finds a way to make this time memorable.

Even though it was the weekend, Jinyoung had some shootings to do before finishing the last project of the year. On a regular day, you usually weren’t able to join him while he was working, but today as it was the last day scheduled before they could have a deserved Christmas break, so here you were, on set, with a huge jacket while he was reading his lines before he was called to shoot his final scenes of the day.

You have always loved the way he was so passionate about acting, reading the script as many times as he could until he could decipher the real purpose of the character he was portraying, which he often succeeded doing, leading to an amazing performance. Not only that, but the way he also was dedicated to music and how he could portray such feelings with metaphors and symbols. Jinyoung’s passions and dedication were something you have always admired him for.

The set was nice, they were recording inside a coffee shop as they needed a bit more angles here before they could call the day off. It was a nice coffee shop, very warm and pleasant to sight, the owners had to close for the day as only staff was allowed, trying to keep the most secrecy of the project before it was aired.

A couple hours later you were finally dismissed, Jinyoung going to change his character’s clothes for his own. You waited for him outside, noticing how even if there was still some sunlight, the temperature started dropping and you wished to have waited inside. Looking around to see if Jinyong was near you felt something fall in your nose; a snowflake, and that's when you notice the snow falling on the streets. You have heard of a white Christmas, but you have never actually seen—let alone live one.

“It is beautiful,” you said to yourself.

“I know, right?” Jinyoung’s voice made you jump by the sudden way he had approached you without you noticing him, he was looking at you though. He took your hand in his, “you’re freezing, why didn’t you tell me?” you shrugged, you had been in such a focused state watching the small snowflakes falling that you hadn’t even noticed how cold you actually were.

Your boyfriend, as the charming man he usually is, took both your hands in his and brought them to his mouth, blowing on them to try and make them warm. You took that as an opportunity to look at him, it had been so long since you both had time for each other—your schedules often crashing—that you wanted to try and remember as much of him as you could. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold weather, his hair—now being covered by snow—was down, barely covering his forehead and brushing his eyes. His eyes were focused on your hands, eyelashes long and full. His soft lips were a little chapped as he had forgotten to put some chapstick before coming to the location. You were sure you were irreparably in-love with this man, not that you were complaining.

You tugged your hands to pull him closer to you and kissed him. Usually both of you were careful of the public displays of affection as the public and the media always had some comment about any celebrity’s personal life. He let you kiss him, smiling in the middle of it and never letting your hands go.

Pulling away you smiled, “let’s go, I’m freezing here.”

The snow had already painted the sidewalks and streets white, but there was still enough time for you to get home. Jinyoung let you go inside the company’s car first, and brought you closer to him, causing his manager to roll his eyes. Jinyoung’s manager was one of the first ones to know that you were seriously dating a few months ago, and he didn’t really complain about it but he always enjoyed messing up with Jinyoung.

Once at the company, you both went to Jinyoung’s car after saying goodbye and wishing happy holidays to the staff. The sun had set a few minutes ago and now you were engulfed by the night, you were glad that you were close to home as the snowy weather made driving a little more difficult.

After a few minutes you arrived at your destination, happy to spend more time with the person you loved the most. As soon as you walked through the doors, you felt Jinyoung relax, his schedules had been so hectic these last weeks that you had seen him only once when he was deeply asleep after two full days of shooting. You took off both your jackets and hanged them by the door.

“You fancy some hot chocolate?” you hugged him, and he sighed in content.

A moment later both of you were tucked in bed holding each a hot chocolate, and after you finished your drink you fell asleep.

Opening your eyes, you knew Jinyoung wasn’t in bed. He had always told you how much he loves snow, and you were sure he was getting dressed to go and play with it. You, on the other hand, on days where it was very cold like this, wanted to stay at home and eat as much warm food— like soups and broths—as you could. However, if Jinyoung wanted to go and play with snow, you didn’t see any harm in doing that.

Getting up from bed, you started looking for your boyfriend, only to find him already outside making a small snowman. You put on warmer clothes and went out to him, noticing how it wasn’t a snowman he was building. Walking closer to him, you also noticed a beautifully fresh made heart on the snow to which your man was taking a picture.

“I was wondering,” now it was your turn to surprise him, he looked back at you and smiled, “where could Jinyoung be this early, he doesn’t have any schedule I’m aware of. I even thought of sending a text to your manager to know if it was a last minute shooting,” you dramatized at the same time Jinyoung fixed your scarf.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—look, ducks!” he moved aside, letting you see the snow ducks he had made. Jinyoung had bought a snow-duck-maker or however that is called, considering you had never seen one before. “You told me that you had never seen snow before, so I thought of surprising you with this.”

Your mouth opened in surprise, it was so beautiful. There were two ducks together and then some more behind them. You wondered how long Jinyoung had been outside doing snow ducks, smiling at the thought. Taking your phone out and taking a mitten off, you decided to take some candid pictures of Jinyoung doing snow ducks. You loved the way his eyes lit up when he showed you his creation. Photos meant a lot for both of you, and you knew the moment he noticed you taking him some, he would take you some as well.

Deciding that it was enough, you put your mitten back on and kept your phone on the front bag of your jacket before starting to make a snowball. It was odd, feeling how the snow started melting through the knitted mittens. Then, you threw that snowball at your boyfriend, caughting him off guard.

Jinyoung fell on his ass, “hey!” you stuck your tongue at him and then proceeded to throw him another snowball. “Alright, it’s on!” he replied laughing while making a bigger snowball.

#got7 fic #jinyoung fic #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #got7 fluff #jinyoung fluff #chrismtas fic

[daemour]

banner by @classicscreations

Pairing: Yugyeom x barista gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, light crack

Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, nothing serious

WC: 813

Summary: Yugyeom...is a hot mess. But maybe it's worth it.

-

Yugyeom…is a hot mess. If you could describe him in three words, that would be all the vocabulary you need. He stays up indescribably late, he ignores his allergies in favour of getting pets and not cleaning his house, the list is just too long. You’d think as a twenty-three-year-old he would have some basic life skills down. But alas. He does not.

Take now, for instance. Yugyeom is standing in line at a local cafe, and yet he doesn’t know what to order. And instead of looking at the menu, he’s staring at the case of bagels, hoping that maybe that would spark some inspiration as to what to order.

“I can take the next customer!” Shit. Yugyeom walks up to the register and it definitely doesn’t help that the employee is adorable, with a wide smile and sparkling eyes. Look, Yugyeom’s a fucking simp, all right? “Hi, what can I get you today?”

“Um.” Yugyeom’s panicking. “Can I have a black coffee with…um…caramel?”

The barista nods, lips pressed together to avoid laughing at Yugyeom’s questionable order. Still cute. Their name tag reads (Y/N) and Yugyeom mouths the name, letting it roll off his tongue. (Silently though, he doesn’t think he could take even more embarrassment.) “Would you like anything else with that?”

“No, thanks.” The pin pad beeps and Yugyeom goes to slide his card. He swipes it cleanly once. Then twice. Then a third time. Why isn’t his card working? Yugyeom panics harder, sliding it once more.

“You’re sliding the wrong side,” (Y/N) kindly interjects, a smile still on their face. Yugyeom clamps his mouth shut and he can hear his teeth clack together as he flips his card and tries once more.

Again with the error. Yugyeom sweats and he might actually cry if this keeps up. (Y/N) is staring at the keypad, smile gone, with a look that Yugyeom can’t quite name on their face. Probably confusion at how this grown man can’t seem to swipe a card correctly. “Um…you’re now swiping the card upside down.”

Yugyeom wishes really, really hard that he could just disappear on the spot. But alas, the world is against him today and any other day. “Sorry,” he mumbles out instead, swiping the card correctly this time.

“That’s all right,” (Y/N) smiles kindly, “I’ve had those days too.” Yugyeom offers a wobbly smile in return, turning to leave so that the next customer can order.

Except…as previously mentioned…the world is working against him. He trips over his own feet and crashes right into the pastry display. A loud, resounding crack is heard and Yugyeom regrets deciding to even step out of his apartment for the day. He slowly lifts his head from where he smacked it against the counter and winces at the large crack going through the glass pane. He’s glad it didn’t shatter but…he sighs at the amount he will have to pay to repair that.

“Oh, my God,” he can hear them gasp. “Jinyoung, come out here and take orders. Someone fell down.” Yugyeom silently appreciates how they didn’t call attention to how it was definitely his fault that he fell. He carefully sits back up, eyes trained on the floor as a sense of defeat overcomes him.

A warm hand touches his shoulder gently. “Sorry,” Yugyeom mumbles out before they can say anything, not even looking up from the floor. “I’ll pay for the damages.”

“Don’t worry about that,” (Y/N) tells him, “we’ll figure that out later. Come to the back and sit down, your head’s bleeding.”

Yugyeom nods and lets them lead him into the backroom, where they sit him down and quickly run to grab a cool, damp towel. As they press it to his head, they cluck their tongue and sigh, and Yugyeom feels the need to apologise. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know why I’m so clumsy today.”

They laugh a little. “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us. I just hope you’re not too badly hurt, yeah?” They subconsciously drum their fingers against his head and a shiver runs down Yugyeom’s spine.

“Thank you,” he mumbles out again and smiles up at them shyly from underneath his bangs. “...Could I buy you a coffee?”

(Y/N)'sr eyes crinkle as they return his smile. “Sorry, I don’t drink coffee.” His heart almost stops in embarrassment for the second time today, but then they continue talking. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to tea.”

“Tea? I could do that. When are you off? We could go to that new place across the street?” Yugyeom’s shy and he just knows if his roommates catch wind of this the teasing will never end.

“It’s a date.”

Yugyeom falls off the chair but even through the sound of their laughter, he can’t help but grin. Maybe his ineptitude is worth it.

#got7writerscollective #kvanity #wkcnet #got7 #got7 fanfiction #got7 fanfic #got7 fic #got7 x reader #got7 fluff #got7 crack #got7 yugyeom #yugyeom #yugyeom fanfiction #yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom fic #yugyeom x reader #yugyeom fluff #yugyeom crack

[flowered-mp3]

reverence - kim yugyeom

pairing: urban dancer yugyeom + ballet dancer female reader

genre: professional dancer au, enemies to friends to lovers, first date, fluff, smut

word count: 5.1k+

warnings: explicit sexual content, cursing

summary: after nearly a year of knowing each other, your first date with yugyeom finally arrives. epilogue to the relevé series.

rating: 18+ (mdni)

author’s note: appeasing the thirsty readers lmao. also appeasing myself. this is going to be my last contribution to this au for a while, since i'm going to be working on other projects. anyways, i hope that this is a satisfying epilogue for my dancer yugyeom stans. anyways, thank u for your support and i hope to see u for the next one <3

[library] [got7 library] [relevé series]

✧✧✧

“Where are we going?” you ask, craning your head to the side in an attempt to catch something in Yugyeom’s expression that will tell you. Instead, you’re met with his cheeky smile, eyes focused on the road ahead of him.

“You’ll know eventually,” he answers cryptically, causing your eyebrows to furrow. You’ve waited an entire week for your first official date with him and he’s withholding information already. Suspicious, you look out of the passenger side window of his car to collect clues.

But then, your mind wanders to his car.

You chew at the inside of your cheek as you remember part of his confession in the dressing room last week.

“We’re not fucking for the first time in a place like this.”

“Oh? What kind of place did you have in mind?”

“My bed. My couch. My shower. My car. A wall. My kitchen…”

You shake your head internally, squeezing your eyelids shut as if you’re trying to expel the indecent thoughts from your mind.

Date first, you scold yourself, other things later.

Right as the recollection leaves you, Yugyeom makes a right turn into the entertainment district. The street is obviously familiar; after all, you live here. Normally, this is the area that you go to for a quick bite after practice or rehearsal, due to the vast variety of bars, restaurants, and cafés.

Then, you pass a familiar sign on the street, and the one second glimpse of it quickly reminds you of its significance. A small, surprised gasp escapes your lips, and Yugyeom giggles.

“It’s ok, right?” he inquires, almost sheepish.

“Of course, it is! It’s more than alright,” you exclaim, the sound of your enthusiasm easing any nervousness that he had previously, “It’s… Actually… Really romantic, Gyeomie.”

He pulls into the parking lot as you talk, smiling to himself as he backs up. With an arm wrapped over the back of the passenger seat, he cranes his head to look out the back. Clearly, he’s absolutely elated by your positive response but your eyes catch the sight of his jaw and neck clenching instead. You swallow, eyelids fluttering as you push away the urge to pepper kisses along the angles; the need to wrap your arms around his neck and slide into his lap to make do on the plans that he so vehemently vocalized to you-

“Ready to go?” he interrupts your train of thought, and the heat on your cheeks continues to spread to the tips of your ears.

“Mmhm…” you nod, blinking hazily before turning around, reaching for the car door handle. With a satisfying click, the door opens to reveal Yugyeom’s outstretched hand. With your heart leaping out of your chest, you take his palm and breathe a sigh of relief when his fingers interlace with yours. Looking up, you smile at the familiar sight.

The restaurant that you took him to last year. The exact place that you started to fall for the tall, talented, and handsome dancer boy currently leading you towards the familiar door.

✧✧✧

It’s perfect. The closest to perfect that you’ve ever experienced, really.

He talking just as animatedly and passionate as he did that day, alternating between sips of chocolate milk and bites of a personal sized pepperoni pizza. But, it’s just that he’s your boyfriend now. It’s an admittedly incredible benefit. Even so, as you’re listening to him go on and on about a teaching mishap that he had with Bambam yesterday, you cannot believe the fantastic turn of events.

Does he know that his nose scrunches when he giggles? That the corner of his eyes crinkle and his head throws back when he laughs?

“Are you ok? You’re a little quieter than I’m used to,” he says mid-bite, cocking his head to the side at your silence.

“Mmhm. I’m just happy. And I like listening to you talk about work,” you answer, smiling to relieve any uneasiness that he might’ve had.

“Is that it? Because I’ve been wondering why you haven’t said anything about my food choices,” he quips, gesturing at the plate of food in front of him. You giggle in response, covering your mouth to prevent food from spilling out. After chewing sufficiently, you part your lips in defense but he stops you before you can say anything.

“Chocolate milk is good. Burgers are good. Spicy food is not good because it hurts,” Yugyeom defends before taking a sip out of said chocolate milk, brows furrowing cutely.

“Poor baby with his baby tastebuds,” you tease, laughing audibly when he nods in agreeance.

“Yes. I am baby,” he responds, so tonelessly that you’re a hundred percent sure that he isn’t being serious.

It makes you laugh again, only this time you can barely restrict yourself from choking on your food before you scoff, “Sure.”

✧✧✧

You two manage to stay and talk until closing. In fact, you barely noticed that the restaurant was empty until your waiter attempted to kick you both out of the restaurant as politely as possible. After quarrelling over the bill, Yugyeom paid it this time around after reminding you that you bought him a coffee yesterday. So, you reluctantly obliged.

No rock, paper, scissors game this time around. Without another word, he takes your hand and leads you out of the empty restaurant. The door opens and you’re immediately hit with the crisp and refreshing night air, biting Yugyeom’s cheeks pink with each gust. The walk in the parking lot remains relatively silent until he stops in front of his car, his hand twisting in yours until your fingers entwine with his.

“Listen,” he begins, pausing to stroke your knuckles with his thumb, “I want to invite you back to my place to hang out for a little longer, if that’s ok.”

His face is contemplative, almost concerned, as if thinks that you might be uncomfortable with the invitation.

“Please don’t feel pressured to agree because of what I said… Uhm…” he trails off, shyly peering his eyes to the side as he reminds you of last weeks filthy promise, “Anyways. If you want to leave the night as is, I will.”

A small smile seeps into your expression at the caring nature of his words. He couldn’t be more wrong, but you greatly appreciate it anyway.

“I’m more than happy to hang out with you, but isn’t Bam home? I don’t want him to-”

You stop, chewing at your bottom lip at what you’re implying. It isn’t like you don’t enjoy Bam’s company, it’s just that you’re not sure if he should be present for what you have in mind, visualizing the way that Yugyeom’s best friend might cringe at the sight of you cuddling with Yugyeom on the couch, or worse.

“Oh, Bam isn’t home. He’s at Jack’s place, actually,” he says, so nonchalant that you’re convinced that he’s unaware of the way that the revelation pushed your mind to end up in a gutter somewhere.

Alone. In an apartment.

With Yugyeom. And a bed. And a couch.

“Oh,” you make a noise before swallowing, hoping to disguise the fact that you’re pleased with that discovery.

Very pleased.

“Great!” he exclaims before grabbing the passenger door handle, opening it with a click, “After you.”

Yugyeom uses his free hand to gesture to the open door, guiding you inside with his palm. The warmth of his hand seeps into the base of your back, and the sensation prompts a chill to run up your spine. Your eyelids slip closed for a short second, focusing on the presence of his touch before he removes it, bringing you out of your daze when the car door slams shut.

✧✧✧

When Yugyeom said hang out, he really did mean hang out, and nothing more.

And it’s driving you up the wall.

After dinner, he pulled you into his empty apartment, kicked off his shoes, took your coat off, and proceeded to plop onto his couch. Not to make good on that promise from last week, but to watch a movie.

You’re not mad. The fact that you’re currently sitting between his parted legs with his arms wrapped around your waist is making you anything but mad.

You’re just… Frustrated.

Frustrated beyond belief that he’s been focused on the movie for the past hour, when all you want is to feel the heat of his palms on your bare skin; to have them wander in between your legs with his lips on the nape of your neck…

Just the thought of it has you closing your eyes in an attempt to prevent all of the indecent visions from flooding your mind. Unfortunately, he’s making it very difficult to prevent that. His chest is pressed right up against your back, and his left hand is sliding from your waist to your thigh, finishing with a slight tightening of his grip. You’re not sure if it’s subconscious or not, but you widen your thighs as a response to his touch. The movement is so minute that you’re not even sure that he’s noticed.

That is, until the hand on your thigh travels down; slowly and with increasing pressure, to the hem of your dress. His fingers start to play with the pleated fabric, tracing and teasing the skin underneath until you find it difficult to breathe properly. The audio from the tv should be enough to cover it up but all you can hear is the sound of your own laboured breaths. You’re so preoccupied in fact, that you barely notice that you’re squirming backward, right up against his crotch.

“Babe,” he breathes against the shell of your ear, right arm tightening around your waist as his left hand finally ventures underneath your dress and up your thigh. A small noise escapes you, but Yugyeom mistakes it for protest. You can sense an apology coming from him as his touch retracts, so you grab his wrist and place his hand right where you want him.

“No,” you pause to shake your head, “Don’t stop.”

Yugyeom freezes for a second, as if unsure where to begin. So, you decide to give him some direction through your hazy, very turned-on mind.

Covering the back of his fingers with your own, you guide his middle finger up your clothed slit, and he makes a low noise against your ear as a result.

“Touch me,” you plead desperately, emphasizing your need by caressing your clit with his fingers, demonstrating with a pressure and speed that you like to start with. Luckily, Yugyeom seems to have gotten the memo because in no time, you’re clawing at his thighs instead of directing his touch.

The back of your head tilts back to rest on his shoulder as he continues with his ministrations, seemingly concentrated on getting you off. The circles that he’s pressing against your clit starts to increase in speed, and you practically keen against him. Your hips are starting to twitch and your thighs are struggling to remain open. In fact, your legs snap closed with a gasp when his fingers dip under the fabric of your underwear, touching you directly.

But then, he removes his fingers and begins to tap against your clit repeatedly, teasing you.

“I hate you,” you whine toothlessly, displeased that your orgasm was taken away. He chuckles when you start to squirm against him, but the sound quickly devolves to a groan when your ass grinds against his crotch again. He’s definitely hard, and you would almost feel smug about it if you weren’t seconds away from coming.

“Are you ok with this?” he asks, and you nod before whispering with a meek yes.

Yugyeom doesn’t respond. Instead, he forces your thighs open again, digs his fingers into the muscle, and drags them across your skin, as if warning you not to do it again.

You chew your bottom lip at the thought, unsure if you should heed his warning. But then, his hand slides into your underwear again and prods against your wet core, making you disregard that initial thought. Your entire body tenses against his as he circles your entrance with a single finger. He gathers the wetness there before sliding upward, giving your now swollen clit a quick, teasing flick.

Surprised by your sensitivity, you gasp, hip thrusting up slightly to chase his touch. It’s torture, and you start to whine in protest.

“So wet…” he whispers at a volume where you just manage to catch it over the sound of the tv. The teasing lilt of his tone causes you to widen your legs further.

“Fingers,” you demand unintelligently, hoping that he’ll understand with a single word. Sentences are beyond you right now.

“So bossy,” he teases you with a playful nip on the skin of your neck. You blink, and suddenly, his fingers are no longer between your legs. Instead, he uses that same hand to hike up your dress, allowing the fabric to pool at your waist. You begin to protest but a slick sound makes its way into your ear.

It’s the sound of his tongue licking a stripe up his fingers.

Without another second wasted, his free hand pulls the lace of your underwear out of the way and the other slides two fingers into your core.

You let out pleasant hum as his fingers move gently, as if he’s trying to get a feel of what you like. He alters his pace and the angle of his fingers, carefully taking note of what elicits the most positive response from you. His experimenting continues until his fingers delve particularly deep, shifting to a spot that makes your hips twitch.

That reaction isn’t lost to him as he repeats that same action over and over and over, driving you so out of your mind that you can’t hold back the moan from bubbling out of your lips.

“God, that’s- Mmph…” your sentence trails off when the pressure becomes absolutely perfect. He’s curling his fingers so deliciously that you can’t stay still. Yugyeom has to wrap his free arm around your torso to keep you from moving too much.

“Good?” he asks, voice thick with arousal. Clearly, he’s also losing his composure. That, and the fact that he keeps groaning when your ass slides up and down his clothed length.

“More than good,” you answer breathily, gasping loudly when his free hand slides into the neckline of your dress to grasp at your breast. He gives it a brief caress before pinching your nipple, the combination of sensations causing you lose it.

One hand grapples at his wrist and the other squeezes into a fist as you practically dangle over the edge of release again, only to be denied it a second time. He removes his fingers and you’re so needy that your back arches and your entire body trembles.

“I should’ve known,” you pant, chest rising up and down with each laboured breath, “Should’ve known that your teasing would extend to sex.”

“Well, I want to savour it,” he answers with a giggle much too innocent for what he was doing to you with his fingers. Then, loosens his arm from around your waist. Not one to waste an opportunity, you twist around as fast as you can to straddle him, immediately reaching between his legs.

“You’re lucky that you’re cute,” you smile at him playfully, gripping his cock through his slacks. The teasing expression that you saw before has effectively disappeared, replaced with droopy eyelids and an agape mouth.

“You’re cute, too,” he says, smirking before giving you a deep, searing kiss. His arm wraps around you as the other hand glides up your spine to tangle into your hair, pushing your lips against his harder. The action makes you gasp in surprise, which gives him the opportunity to delve his tongue into your mouth further.

You’re now lost. Lost in the way that his hands feel on your body. Lost in the hot, throaty groans that you’re swallowing up with your kisses. Lost in the way that he seems to know exactly where to touch; to nip; to lick; to bite. He’s starting to graze his teeth over the nape of your neck as his jaw drops open, unable to focus with your hand in his pants.

“I want to make do on what you told me last week,” you confess, shaking when Yugyeom starts to suck at a sensitive spot just under your jaw.

“Yeah? What do you wanna start with?” he asks, breath hitching when you pull his cock out of his slacks. You give it a few pumps with your hand, just to see him shiver underneath you.

“Couch,” you start, initially losing your train of thought when he starts to buck into your hand, “Want to ride you. Is that ok?”

Yugyeom groans against your skin, now damp with sweat, “Yeah, that’s- Fuck yeah, that’s way more than ok.”

His enthusiasm makes a grin spread across your face, and Yugyeom melts it away by pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Wait here,” he says, and you reluctantly slide off of his lap to allow him to move.

“And don’t worry, Bam won’t be home for another three hours at least,” he adds with a wink, and you nod.

So, you wait, only having enough time to remove your underwear from your legs, your bra, and to slip the straps of your dress off, allowing the fabric to gather around your hips. Once Yugyeom leaves his bedroom, he throws something at you; something small, but you catch it with ease. You recognize the familiar, square foil packet, so you rip it open with your teeth. You’re so preoccupied with getting the condom out, that he surprises you with a hand on your chin.

With a gentle nudge, you look up to see him staring down at you, the most concentrated and heated that you’ve ever seen him.

“You just gonna stand there, or you gonna lay down for me?” you smile against his lips when he leans down for a kiss.

“Have I ever told you that you’re so fucking hot when you’re bossy?” he whispers hotly, right before giving you a quick peck.

“Hmm… Can’t say that you have,” you answer as you pull at the hem of his black turtleneck, prompting him to remove it. After pulling it off with a swift tug, you push him down on the couch and swing your leg over his hips, effectively straddling him. You shift, gathering the skirt of your dress up towards your waist and rest your wet folds on his length. The simple contact is enough to make you both sigh out.

“Guess that I have to make it up to you,” he promises, looking up at you with such awe, with such reverence and love that you smile down at him, trying to show in your own way that you feel the exact same fucking way.

So, without another word, you get the condom on, allow him to push his pants down as much as possible, and slide his cock inside you. The initial stretch burns a little, but it eventually blooms into pleasure when you begin to move your hips; slow and steady, reveling in the gasp that Yugyeom lets out from underneath you.

“You know how you can make it up to me?” you ask as you plant your hands on his abdomen and grind down, “Fuck me like you promised that you would.”

He chuckles playfully in response, sliding his palms up your thighs before grasping at your ass, “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

✧✧✧

There’s something about it.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re fucking in a communal space with your clothes half on; breasts hanging out of your dress, his bottoms gathered at his knees with his shirt off, but…

It’s wholly indecent. Absolutely fucking filthy, and that feeling is only intensified by the wet, slapping sounds of skin against skin, the low groans slipping out of Yugyeom’s lips, and the cries of your own pleasure. Each snap of his hips is met with your own thrusts backward, and the all-consuming assault of sensations is so… It’s so…

“Good,” you moan into the air, breath hot and sweltering against his wet lips as you lean down, “You feel so good…”

Yugyeom curses colourfully at that, confirming in your mind that he agrees with your heated statement. Doubling down, he plants his feet on the couch, wraps an arm around your waist, and bucks into you hard, causing your entire body to jolt forward in surprise. Then, he repeats the same action over and over and over until you’re so debilitated; so mindless and lightheaded that you’re forced to clutch onto the armrest for purchase.

“This what you wanted?” he asks mid-thrust, voice hoarse. His breath fans against your damp neck, temporarily cooling your warm skin.

Unable to form a sentence that would be remotely coherent, you nod vehemently, pressing your lips together in an effort to stay quiet. It only just dawned on you that you should be a little quieter, as Yugyeom lives in an apartment complex, filled with neighbours that would surely be disturbed at the ruckus you two are making.

But then, you feel his tongue slide up the curve of your neck, swirling against the skin before latching his teeth against your earlobe, nibbling gently.

“C’mon, use your words, sweetheart,” he goads you on, tightening his hold on your body as you moan at the pet name, “Tell me how good I’m being.”

Your heart flutters at that command.

Oh, you realize, he wants you to praise him.

Very well.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you abide, and Yugyeom instantly moans at that. Just the sound of it makes you move harder against him, and the pleasure spikes so rapidly that it’s nearly impossible to keep talking. But somehow, you continue by focusing on pleasuring him.

“Fucking me exactly how I want, you feel so good…” you add, trailing off when you see Yugyeom’s eyelids flutter, mouth falling open as a moan becomes stuck in his throat. He’s trying his best to maintain eye contact but you can tell that he’s on his way to completely losing it, and his thrusts are nearing a rhythm that’s rough and uneven.

But it isn’t like you’re any better. You’re equally as overwhelmed, effectively fucked out as the pleasure relentlessly winds up, curling and tightening in your core. Both of you can’t seem to acknowledge anything in your vicinity; not the sound of the television, not the hum of the refrigerator, not even the way that the lamp flickers when Yugyeom’s hand accidentally smacks against the switch. Nothing, except for the urge to touch whatever you can reach; kiss whatever you can kiss, and the culmination of it all has you keening on top of him, walls clamping around his cock to the point of madness.

“Oh, shit,” he breaks your kiss by throwing his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing when he attempts to gasp for air, “Oh, fuck…”

It seems to you that Yugyeom is completely ignoring any potential concerns about volume because he’s getting loud. Loud, loud. As if without a care for his neighbours, Yugyeom lets out deliciously rough groans, sounding delirious and needy so incredibly hot and fuck-

“Close,” you gasp, lungs equally burning for oxygen, “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He nods dumbly, squeezing his eyelids shut as he trembles underneath you.

“Sweetheart,” he moans out, loosening his arm from around your body. It causes you to let out a questioning noise, but the momentary confusion is instantly eased when his hands reach up, searching for yours.

Immediately, your heart softens as he rubs his thumb against the inside of your wrist, pausing momentarily before covering your hand with his palm. He laces your fingers together and tightens his grip, desperate and almost afraid. As if you would leave him cold and empty, just as you did a couple of months ago.

He doesn’t verbalize that insecurity. However, he makes it apparent in a different way. His facial features melt into a state of pure vulnerability and his body fully surrenders to yours, actions completely set on pleasing you and ensuring that he’s worthy of you. Worthy of your time, your mind, your words, and your body. It’s as if he’s attempting to prove himself.

And what an absurd attempt it is.

Worthy? No one understands you the way that Yugyeom does. No one makes you laugh as much as he does. No one makes you feel like this, as if your entire body is suspended midair, dangling over the edge of happiness, ecstasy, delirium, and pleasure, all at once.

No one is more worthy than he is.

And with a reassuring squeeze of his hand and a hot, searing, and desperate kiss, you try your absolute best to tell him that, all without a single word.

Then, all Yugyeom has to do is fuck into you once, twice, before you shatter on top of him, hips twitching uncontrollably as the sensation of your orgasm overwhelms your senses. Your core, slick and wet and tight, flutters around his cock with such force that he comes with a throaty half-shout. The noise crawls out of the back of his throat, and he’s so loud that he feels to need to tuck his head into the crook of your neck, teeth scraping against your exposed skin as his jaw drops open.

Your entire body hums with pleasure as his cock twitches inside you, slowly softening as the minutes pass. He begins to press wet kisses against your neck, and you can’t help but giggle at the entire situation.

You, lounging on top of him with your breasts spilling out of the bodice of your dress, cock still inside. Him, laying on his shared couch after being thoroughly fucked by you with his pants half off.

“I can’t believe that we had sex on my couch,” he gasps, slapping his palm against his eyes in disbelief. You laugh in response, placing strategic pecks all over his face to get him to remove his hand. Luckily, it seems to work because his eyes start to peek through the gaps of his fingers, twinkling with humour and mischief.

“Don’t tell Bam,” you remind with a smile, shifting on top of him until his slips out of you.

“I won’t tell him if you won’t tell him,” he replies, lifting up on his forearms to give you another kiss. While the urgency is gone, his lips still move with such sweet, earnest passion that your spine tingles.

“How about a shower?” he asks against your lips, breaking the kiss for just a moment.

“Only if we’re having one together,” you grin, elated when he nods in agreeance.

However, his nod is laced with a certain level of mischievousness that makes you suspicious. So suspicious in fact, that you're sure that the shower that he has in mind will be especially long.

✧✧✧

Sex in the shower was not a good idea.

Sure, it started off great. His lips against your neck, his hands finally roving all over your naked body, unhindered by the fabric of your dress. You got to marvel at all of the tattoos that decorate his body, especially appreciating the gigantic wings that sprawl across his back.

But you two got a little too enthusiastic. Perhaps it was because you two wanted to make up for lost time but the second that two shampoo bottles fell from the shower rack and hit your head, he decided to stop.

It’s ok though, because the highly spirited activities continued on his bed, after the shower.

Thank God that Bambam wasn’t home.

“Sweetheart?” Yugyeom says, interrupting your train of thought. You were absentmindedly tracing the lines of his constellation tattoo as he sat beside you, phone in hand as he scrolled through social media. He nudges you with his elbow before continuing, “Can I ask you a question?”

You nod wordlessly, leaning against his shoulder as your back sinks in his upright pillow, allowing you both to rest against the headboard.

“When did you know?” he starts, voice soft. Your brow furrows at the unspecific question, tilting your head to face him. You’re instantly met with the sight of him; hair fluffy and dishevelled and as handsome as ever. Before you can speak, his eyes already staring back at you, tender and curious.

“Know what?” you answer, shifting closer to him.

“Know that you loved me,” he replies, cheeks dusting a pale pink. Restless and antsy, his fingers search for yours underneath his comforter.

“I’m not sure,” you start, pausing when you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, “It wasn’t really a single moment. Just a lot of moments mixed together.”

You reminisce on your practices together, and how they evolved from a shitty meeting to an exchange of simple advice to simple favours to full-on concern and care. The moments that you two spent together felt intimate, more nuanced than simple friendship, and that single evolution made your heart fall for him faster than you ever anticipated.

"You just had to be so annoyingly sweet that I allowed you to worm your way into my life forever," you joke, and a cute giggle escapes him.

"Don't you worry, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stick by you and be as sweet and annoying as possible. That's a promise," Yugyeom grins in response, squeezing his grip on your hands. Then, he captures your gaze, pupils slightly illuminated by the single, dim lamp that rests on the nightstand beside you.

“By the way, for me, it was when you asked me to play rock paper scissor for the bill,” he admits before leaning in, pressing an achingly sweet kiss on your temple.

A quiet gasp slips from your lips at his admission, "You remember that?"

"Of course. It's where I fell in love with you. And now, it's where we had our first official date," he revels at your speechlessness, taking the chance to place a soft kiss on your temple. Once he pulls away, he's met with your eyes widened in surprise, aching with soft affection.

“My boyfriend is such a little romantic,” you whisper, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his. You find the admission so endearing that your head dips underneath his chin, kissing those cute moles that you’ve been wanting to kiss for forever.

"I guess I have to change your name on my phone now. Not sure if asshole is the most accurate description for you anymore."

“Say that again,” he requests, completely ignoring the latter portion of what you said. You make a questioning noise, so he adds in a voice a little breather than usual, “Say that I’m your boyfriend again.”

A grin spreads across your face, “You, Kim Yugyeom, are my asshole boyfriend.”

“You know what? I’ll take that,” he says, and you laugh even more, giggling through the kisses that you’re sharing with him in his bed.

And you like the sound of it too.

Kim Yugyeom. Your boyfriend.

✧✧✧

tag list: @pointofviewyugyeom @ssssssul @shawkneecaps

if you would like to be added to my tag list, please send me an ask! don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoy my work. thank you!

- yue <3

✧✧✧

[pt. 6] ⤎ [relevé series]

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#got7writerscollective #got7creators #kdiarynet #ficscafe #kvanity #got7 #yugyeom #kim yugyeom #got7 smut #got7 writing #got7 fanfic #got7 imagines #got7 scenario #kpop smut #kpop fic #got7 fic #got7 story #got7 yugyeom #myworks:reverence

[cloudysvt]

pinwheels | park jinyoung 📚⛰

item description: jinyoung knew yn was a classics major, and he also knew she was a silly little guy. so why did he take the greek mythology class? and why did he ever agree to let yn make the powerpoint? ingredients: one-shot smau, friends-ish-to-lovers, enemies-ish(one sided)-to-lovers, classmates-to-lovers, fluff, silliness and jokes, powerpoint makes relationships happen

thanks for shopping with us today! we hope you enjoy your purchase, please leave your reviews in the feedback box here!

have a great day! - management :)

#jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung x reader #jinyoung smau #jinyoung fic #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung scenario #got7 x reader #got7 smau #got7 fic #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 #fluff #the set up for this is barely relevant alkajjsks the meme just made me laugh

[dontbekoifish]

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.

#ghiblicollab2021 #got7writerscollective #got7 #got7 jb #got7 jinyoung #got7 jay b #jaebeom #jaebum #jb fanfiction #jb fanfic #lim jaebeom #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #got7 fic #got7 angst #got7 fluff #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jaebeom x reader #got7 x reader #jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung #ghibli au #got7 au

[kookies-cookie-ao3]

Happy birthday to my favorite JJPnator @bb-bambam !!! I wrote a fic for her, which you can find here . Ily so much Aditiiiiii!!!!

#got7 #jjp #jjp fic #got7 fic #jjp smut #Aditi Ilysm

[eternallytxt]

19:32

[19:32]     It was a cool summer evening when your fiancée, Jinyoung, came home from the office w his dress shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, and hair a little messy. He slips his leather bag off his shoulder and slumps down on the bench by the door to take off his worn, black dress shoes. He smells dinner being prepared in the next room, with the sound of soft music being drowned out by the clicking of pots and pans. As he follows the sweet, tangy aroma down the hallway, he turns the corner to see you making dinner. Jinyoung is unbelievably exhausted from the stressful work day, but when you turn around, eyes locking, he gets a sudden burst of energy. You give him a sweet smile as he excitedly walks over to you. 

“Hi, my love. How was your day?” you asked. He wraps his long arms around your waist- pulling you in closer- whispering in your ear, “A lot better now that I get to see you.” You hug him tighter, knowing that your touch is the only thing keeping him from collapsing from complete and total exhaustion. As you two embrace, he begins to hum along with the music and sway back and forth. Before you know it, he’s twirling you around in the kitchen as you both wait for dinner to finish cooking. It seems you both are enjoying yourselves a little too much as you begin to smell the burning chicken in the oven.

“Crap, crap, CRAP!! It’s burning!!” You break each other’s embrace as you rush to turn off the overheating oven and take the chicken out. Unfortunately, what’s supposed to be a nicely cooked chicken is now a burnt piece of charcoal. You walk over to Jinyoung and slap his chest, saying, “This is YOUR fault! I got too distracted by the dancing that I forgot about dinner!” Not too worried about the now ruined dinner, he takes your face in his hand and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. Following that, he plants a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Its okay, we can just order takeout tonight.” He then sweeps you off your feet and carries you to the couch. You both finish your night off by eating takeout and watching a cheesy romantic comedy.

#got7 fic #got7 #jinyoung #park jinyoung #jinyoung x reader #jinyoung fanfic

[kpopimaginings]

"It's not worth it" - Jinyoung

You knew this would happen. You and Jinyoung had recently announced your relationship to the GOT7 boys. Part of the reason you had kept it quiet early on was because you knew there would be teasing. You could have also predicted that BamBam and Jackson were going to be the main perpetrators.

You were out for a group dinner for the first time since they found out and the teasing started immediately. You honestly weren't too bothered by it, but you noticed Jinyoung's clenched jaw as he glared at the members who were talking. You took his hand under the table and gave it a little squeeze, trying to silently tell him to let it go.

Once the food came out, things quietened down for a moment.

"Don't let them get to you," you whispered to Jinyoung.

He just nodded in acknowledgment, but you knew he hadn't really taken your comment to heart.

As you finished eating, you took Jinyoung's hand again and shot him a little smile.

"Ah, look at you two all loved up," BamBam started again.

"Cut back on the PDA though," Jackson added.

You rolled your eyes at the comment, but once again Jinyoung couldn't let it slide.

"We looked at each other. How is that PDA?"

"Relax, Jinyoung-ie," Jackson told him, before turning to you. "Are you sure about him? He's a bit uptight!"

You bit your lip to keep yourself from chuckling and further annoying your boyfriend.

Then, you jumped slightly as Jinyoung brought his hand down on the table.

"Jinyoung!" you scolded.

"What was the one thing I asked of you, Jackson?" he snapped, ignoring your interjection.

Jackson stared blankly at Jinyoung.

"All I said was don't tease Y/n," he continued. "You can wind me up all you like but when she's around, you knock it off."

"But she's our friend too," Jackson pointed out.

"Yeah, she's used to us, she knows what we're like," BamBam added.

You were about to agree with them, when Jinyoung  spoke again.

"I'm crazy about Y/n, ok? The last thing I want is you idiots scaring her off."

"Jinyoung-ie, that's so sweet," you said, your voice now softer, "And I'm very pleased you want me to stick around, but the boys are right, I've known them for long enough that I expected this. A little teasing among friends isn't going to make me leave."

"Ok, but-"

"No, it's not worth it. I want to be with you, and Jackson and BamBam being littles shits isn't going to change that."

Jinyoung couldn't help but smile and chuckle as the troublemakers complained at your choice of words. Smiling back, you leant in and pecked a soft kiss to his lips.

It surprised you somewhat when the resulting 'Ew' came from Yugyeom.

"Don't you start," you told him with a smile, before resting your head on Jinyoung's shoulder while you waited for desert.

NAVIGATION  |  GOT7 MASTERLIST

#park jinyoung #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung x you #jinyoung x reader #jinyoung drabbles #jinyoung fluff #got7 #got7 imagine #got7 scenario #got7 oneshot #jinyoung one shot #jinyoung oneshot #got7 scenarios #got7 drabbles #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #got7 fic #got7 fiction #got7 fluff #got7 fanfic

[haechanhues]

H O U S E  O F  C A R D S

summary : you want more and to certify that for yourself - you learn to play the game and collect your cards.  

chapter ten : mark tuan 

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#got7 #got7 mark #got7 mark fic #got7 social au #got7 mark social au #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 mark imagines #got7 mark scenarios #got7 fic #got7 mark fluff #got7 fluff #mark tuan fluff #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan scenarios

[nyongsimp]

i do (pjy)

pjy x female reader word count: 2.6k genre: fluff. warnings: just jinyoung using a tuxedo mature content: no.

summary: the biggest and happiest day of your life should feel different, shouldn't it?

It would be a total lie if you said that you weren’t nervous today. Today, of all days, you felt your headache growing stronger, your stomach going sick just at the thought of what’s about to happen, your knees falter. You felt like this wasn’t going to go as it should, and today should be perfect.

You heard a knock at the door of your apartment, the same one that you had been emptying for a while now, only having the basic furniture and the least amount of decoration on it, you just had some plants around so it wouldn’t be too tasteless. Taking deep breaths you walked to open the door and before you could welcome them, there were squeals from them.

“It’s the day!”

“How are you feeling?”

“Aren’t you excited?”

“Look at your eyebags! You sure you slept well?”

“We’ll take care of that.”

“Come on people, we have a huge day ahead.”

Trying not to let the overwhelming sensation of anxiety rise from the depths of your stomach, you smiled and nodded in agreement, welcoming all your friends and the team who would help you get ready. They bring breakfast, makeup, hair tools, and everything you would need to feel and be the prettiest bride in town.

The make up artist let you grab some food before they start getting you ready, so you went for some fruit and scrambled eggs, once you finished eating some of the staff started preparing your hair, while others did your nails and moisturized your skin. You were given a white silk robe a week prior to wear today while you were being pampered and getting ready for the ceremony.

Everything that happened after was a fuzz, the only thing you knew is that you were having a lot of doubts and you were hating yourself for that. You loved Jinyoung with everything in you, so why the hell were you doubting about marrying him when this was all you ever wanted?

After hours of hair and makeup, you were finally getting your dress, and it was the most wonderful bridal dress you had laid eyes on. Only you and your Maid of Honor -and maybe Bambam- had seen it, and three of you agreed that it was the dress. It felt so fresh and not as heavy as it seemed, it had everything you wanted; the constellations, the ocean waves, the feeling of forever and always.

Standing on your bridal shoes, your Maid of Honor helped you place the veil and the tiara. Only then, while looking at yourself in the mirror you felt like crying, which she noticed and asked the people there, even your parents, to go to their places as the wedding was about to begin, which wasn’t a total lie.

“Hey…” she started with a low voice, “are you alright? Wanna talk about it?”

You denied and then nodded with your head, feeling the knot tight on your throat, “It’s nothing,” you sobbed, trying not to ruin your makeup, “it’s just that… What if he stops loving me? what if he regrets this later on?” you felt the tears trying to escape from your eyes, so you looked up and blinked to make the tears go, “what if he notices later on that I’m not what he wants, what he needs?”

“And you’re thinking all of this because…?” she came near you and hugged you.

“It’s stupid, really,” you sobbed again.

“Was it the article?” you nodded. There was an article released stating how you seemed unfitting for the nation’s first love, Park Jinyoung, as you were a foreigner and you knew nothing about their culture. You thought that his fans would be harsher, but even then, their fandom was welcoming and accepting. Why did the media and the rest of the public thought they had a word on it? Why do they feel so entitled to say that?

There was a knock on the door that made you both jump, your Maid of Honor stood up and before walking to attend the door said, “just remember this: the boys had said that they have never seen Jinyoung to be like this to someone, to look at them with so many emotion in his eyes. You are the one he chose to marry, and that's all that matters.”

“Who's that?” your friend said, and then the ones knocking spoke.

“How’s the bride? Asking for the groom, but it’s not as if he was becoming a mess because he misses her so much.”

“Jackson, you’re not supposed to say that.” Mark said to the first one who spoke.

“Can we come in? I wanna see the bride though.”

“Bam-ah.” That was Jaebeom.

“No, no you can’t. How do I know that the groom isn’t there with y’all, don’t you know it’s bad luck if they see each other before the wedding?” you laughed lightly.

“Damn, she’s good,” you heard Yugyeom say, “come on, hyung, just speak to her.”

He was there? 

Your Maid of Honor looked at you and you nodded. Maybe all you needed was to hear his voice to know that everything would be fine. Standing up you went all the way to the door, always so careful not to trip on the edges of your dress. You heard the whispers behind the door and breathed deeply, not wanting another breakdown for them to hear and worry.

“Babe?” his voice was calm and warm as always, you felt your heart flutter and heard a tiny ew before a hit was landed onto someone’s head -maybe Bambam’s-, “How are you feeling?”

“Ow, he’s placing a hand on the door. Do it too, do it too!”

Making you take some steps backwards, your Maid of Honor went out of the bride’s room to give you some privacy, “come on boys, the bridesmaids are over here. Let’s give the love birds some alone time.”

You heard some steps and then the deep sigh of your groom, “I know you read the article. You know that doesn’t matter to me, right? The reason I’m here today is because I know you’re the one for me, and I hope to be the one for you.”

“It’s hard, Jinyoung. My life has never been in the public eye, I- my life was as if I didn’t exist.” you laughed out of anxiety.

“I don’t want to tell you that it won’t be hard, the public will always be there, but something I learned through all my years as an artist is that they will never know the truth behind everything, so just let them play with what they think, and enjoy your privacy. I won’t let anybody hurt you, ever.” you could feel his anger and annoyance towards the media, his worry towards you.

Your hand was on the doorknob while the other was on a fist, trying to stop yourself from opening the door and throwing yourself in your lover’s arms.

“What are you doing here?!” you heard the planner say to Jinyoung, “you are supposed to be at the altar now, waiting for her. Go, boy, go.”

“Jinyoung!” you said as soon as you heard some shifting on his side of the door, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” you heard his smile, “See you in a bit.”

You went to fix your skirt and veil, and a few seconds later your Maid of Honor came in with your bridal bouquet. It was time for it. You took the bridal bouquet from her hands and she went in for a hug right when the rest of the bridesmaids went inside the room. You inhaled deeply just in time for all of you to go down the aisle. Your heart was on your ears and your hands were a bit sweaty.

As you approximated the bridal party you felt the anxiety fading away. He chose you, he wanted you forever.

You hugged your parents and held them by the arm, as they were going to escort you to Jinyoung. Your Maid of Honor walked along with Jaebeom, Jinyoung’s Best Man, and in a blink of an eye the doors opened again and the piano started playing the bridal arrangement you asked for, your feet started walking and you were watching how they moved the hem of your dress. Taking another deep breath you looked up to your guests, your parents, Jinyoung’s family, your bridesmaids and Jinyoung’s groomsmens, to finally see Jinyoung the most handsome you have ever seen him.

Just by looking at him you felt everything else disappear, there were only you and him. By the whiskers in his eyes you knew he was smiling, but his shoulders were shaking and his hands were covering his mouth.

Could he be…?

At the moment he turned around and bent a bit over himself you knew he was crying which made you start crying. You counted the steps before you could be with him. Jinyoung turned back at you and now that you were closer you could actually see his tears rolling on his cheeks. 10 more steps and you will be next to him. This felt just like in the movies; the music in the background, the rest of the people fading away and only existing you two. You never thought the movie feeling could be so real.

4 more steps and you will be with your forever.

3.

2.

1.

You both whispered a hi to the other before your father spoke, “I had my doubts about you, and I may not like you for the rest of my life because you’re taking her too far away from me, but I know that you care about her, that you love her, and that you make her the happiest I have ever seen her, and that’s why I trust you with my daughter, son.”

You felt your mother’s embrace and then your father’s just before he placed your hand on Jinyoung’s, and they went to their seats. Your Maid of Honor took your bouquet and both your hands were in Jinyoung’s, and as soon as you felt the warmth of his hands you knew he was nervous as well. He placed a gentle kiss in your knuckles before uncovering your face from the veil, which caused both of you to laugh lovingly at each other.

Jinyoung’s eyes were glossy and his cheeks puffy, you felt like you could explode from joy at the moment he smiled back at you and caressed your face with his hand. Your doubts and anxiety fading away every second you felt Jinyoung by your side or grabbing your hands. You were sure that none of you were paying attention to what the minister was saying, focused on playing with your fingers or stealing glances of the other. The minister asked you both to stand so you could say your vows to each other.

Taking Jinyoung's hands in yours, you spoke, “If someone told me years ago, that I would be marrying the love of my life, my person, at the other side of the world, I would have never believed them. Mostly because I couldn’t see myself without being near my family, but now I found a new family here,” you looked at your friends and his family.

“I know I dreamed of you when I was younger, but you didn’t have a face nor a name. Ever since we first spoke I felt something different with you, and I know you felt it too,” you felt your throat close and your eyes fill with water, “and weeks later we confirmed it on our very first date as a couple, when I knew that–” you sobbed, feeling tears rolling on your face “that if I let you go I would regret that for the rest of my life.” Jinyoung kissed you softly on the lips, causing you to smile, and you looked at his family, “So, I want to thank your family, and everyone you shared your life with for making you the man you are today, the man I fell in love with, and the one and only I want to spend the rest of my life with, because with you life is better, Jinyoung. I love you.”

Once you finished your vows, you looked at him in the eye and you knew he was on the verge of crying. Jinyoung squeezed your hands a little and you squeezed back, giving him strength. You swear you saw the oldests of the group holding back his tears.

“Yah, don’t cry hyungs.” you heard Youngjae whisper.

Jinyoung spoke after licking his lips, “I am aware that most of the media says that you’re not good enough for me, but what they don’t know is that I am the one who’s not good enough for you. You are staying away from your parents, speaking a different language, and adapting to a new culture while I stay here with everything I knew since child. I know that I wouldn't be here today if it wasn’t for you; your enthusiasm every time I told you about a new script or a new song that I had on mind, the joy you received me after long weeks of shooting or recording, even though I knew you were waiting for me awake even if you were exhausted, how every time you said that haters didn’t know the real me and gave me strength by staying by my side. None of them knows that I’m the one that’s lacking, and none of them knows me better than you do.” his hand went to cup your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb.

“You said–'' he gulped, drowning his tears, “said that we confirmed that this was how it’s supposed to be on our first date, but for me it was before; when we ran to each other that day on the beach of my hometown at night, when the moon was shining above us, and at that moment I knew that you would be my moon and my stars, enlightening my darkest nights. You’re my one and only, and I’m the happiest man on Earth because I get to spend the rest of my life with you. And if there’s another life, I’ll do my best to find you again and be together until the end of time.”

You looked at him with adoration in your eyes, and then you felt a tug in your hands. Jinyoung made you move closer to him to hug you before placing a kiss on your forehead, “I’m going to protect you for the rest of my life,” he swore to you in a whisper. 

Your Maid of Honor and his Best Man came next to you to give you the rings, which you helped the other put on. 

“To the bride,” started the minister, “do you swear yourself to this man to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?”, you nodded, sliding your marriage ring on Jinyoung’s finger.

“Yes!” you looked at your lover with the biggest smile on your face, “yes, I do.”

The minister repeated the process with Jinyoung, and then Jinyoung slided your marriage ring, “I may pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss now.”

And no more had to be said, you hugged each other tightly before sharing the kiss that would seal this new chapter in your life. Jinyoung lifted you from the floor and made you spin, forgetting the size of the tail and almost making you fall. Your kiss tasted like a promise, like a beginning, like the purest form of joy. The guests clapped at you and started congratulating you. Jinyoung grabbed your hand and traced your wedding ring with his thumb before pressing some more kisses on your lips.

Looking at him you knew this was the best decision you could ever make, and the one you would never regret.

#jinyoung fic #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung got7 #park jinyoung got7 #jinyoung fanfiction #park jinyoung fluff #got7 fluff #got7 fic #got7 fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #park jinyoung

[daemour]

Title: Not Like This

Pairing: platonic Yugyeom x gn!Reader

Warnings: sad as usual when it comes to Gyeom lol

Genre: angst

Summary: You can’t give Yugyeom what he wants, and it hurts to let him go.

Word Count: 246

Slight reference to Don’t Tell Me

-

“Have you ever been in love?” You turn your head from the night sky to look at Yugyeom’s profile when you hear his question.

“Yes.” Your answer comes with a long pause. “It didn’t work out, of course. I never told him when I had the chance. And when I did tell him…well, it was when he asked me to be in his wedding party.” Your laugh is pained and Yugyeom’s face twists in pity.

“I’m in love too,” he says so quietly that you almost don’t hear him.

You smile, ready to tease him when lips touch your own, in a fleeting and soft kiss filled with tenderness and hope. And like you’ve been burnt, you pull away as soon as it registers.

An apology spills out of your lips while you move your head back, but it does nothing to quell the hurt in Yugyeom’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he apologises too and your heart hurts for him, but not in the way he would want.

“I just…not like this.” You don’t need to complete your sentence, Yugyeom understands and it shows. You wish you could have loved him the way he wanted. He was kind, respectful, and someone you know would be an amazing and considerate boyfriend. But you just couldn’t pretend to love him. It would be unfair to him.

And because of that, you let him through your fingers. He will find someone who will love him more than you ever could.

#kvanity #got7writerscollective #got7 #got7 fanfiction #got7 fanfic #got7 fic #got7 angst #got7 x reader #got7 yugyeom #yugyeom fanfiction #yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom fic #yugyeom angst #yugyeom x reader #angst

[flowered-mp3]

vermillion pt. 3 (astriction) - lim jaebeom

pairing: human prince jaebeom + vampire princess female reader

genre: fluff, angst, forbidden love (kinda?), arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, vampire, royalty, fantasy au

word count: 8.3k+

warnings: cursing, mentions of war, depictions of violence, suggestive sexual content

summary: in an effort to end centuries of war, you agree to a political marriage with the enemy. you never considered that your circumstances could allow you to indulge in matters of the heart. that is, until your intended pushes past your boundaries, tempting you with intelligent banter and salacious, midnight promises.

rating: 18+ (mdni)

author’s note: there's a convo here that is inspired by shadow and bone s1 and bridgerton s2! also hope that u guys spot the midnight promise in this part hehe (it's one of my fav scenes that i've ever written!).

[library] [got7 library] [vermillion series]

✧✧✧

astriction (əˈstrikshən) - the act of binding.

✧✧✧

Negotiations are going well, apparently, and the notion has never been more frustrating. You would normally relish smooth political agreements. In fact, you’ve been responsible for the majority of them since your father first allowed you to sit on his council.

This time, however, you are not responsible. You’re now left in the dark concerning your country’s affairs. You know next to nothing about what’s been discussed in the past couple of council meetings. There’s only so much that Suho can divulge without alerting your uncle; after all, that wretched man has eyes everywhere.

You have no one to blame but yourself for this misfortune; allowing yourself to unravel at the hands of a stubborn human prince. So you’ve had to take matters into your own hands.

And you’re anything if not resourceful.

You’ve been sneaking into the archives in the library to read up on all the reports that you’ve managed to get your hands on. At least, that was the plan, until His Royal Highness decided to poke his nose where it doesn’t belong.

The human prince is much more stubborn than you initially gave him credit for, and it’s absolutely infuriating because it seems that for the last week, his presence has become incessant. Constant. Never-ending.

Even when you’re teaching a magic class, or taking a stroll around your father’s gardens, he’s still there, just at the edge of where you can sense his aura, lingering in the corner of your eye like a buzzing insect; slightly irritating upon first sight, but gradually increasing in irritation as its appearance continues.

You attempt to ignore him but your efforts prove futile when he locks eyes with you, as always. The location doesn't matter; he always, always, seems to possess the incredibly annoying skill of finding you. Maybe it’s an accident, but you become distracted within that short second of eye contact anyway. He’s always focused and concentrated, irises dark and glaringly beautiful… It only serves to remind you of the way that he stared at you in that hallway last week.

He’s managed to make your life and responsibilities as Princess Regent decidedly more difficult than it has to be. He’s constantly in your way, stubborn and unyielding but, just the thought of his warm thumb caressing the cool, sensitive skin of your wrist makes your chest clench and your spine arch.

It’s deplorable, truly; the relentless, unforgiving pull that you have towards him.

What you wouldn’t give to escape it.

✧✧✧

Jaebeom is normally quite comfortable with silence. In fact, it’s preferable. For him, nothing is better than tranquil, subdued quiet, especially in combination with the outdoors and a good book.

But at this moment, silence is his absolute worst enemy.

He’s on one of the obligatory, routine, and patronizing walks with you around the palace, and you haven’t said a single word to him since the events of last week. To make matters worse, the rest of his inner circle will be arriving within the evening. 

In a brief moment of distraction, his eyes trail towards the expansive window on his right, extending down the brightly lit hallway. It gives him a distant view of the human party marching towards the vampire capital, the Lim family sigil; a sun pierced by a golden arrow in a field of vermillion, strikingly contrasts the surrounding white snow. Half of him is relieved to have humans around for the first time in months, but the other half is undeniably anxious when the memories of the journey come flashing back. 

It was arduous and rough at the best of times, all because of the harsh climate, cold weather conditions, and eternal night. You would never be able to tell the time of day here, and it’s a far cry from the temperate warmth of the south. While his inner circle is accustomed to less-than-ideal travelling conditions, he’s sure that the pompous, silver spoon royals from that marching party would complain about it. 

Jaebeom nearly wants to pull his own hair out at the stress of it all. He has to defend his people in enemy territory and deal with maintaining a somewhat favourable relationship with his betrothed.

Unfortunately, it’s safe to say that he isn’t doing a very good job at the latter.

Jaebeom is stubborn and enduring, but for some reason, your impenetrable wordlessness chips at his restraint. Every single passing second without a word almost makes him want to scream in frustration. He doesn’t know if he wants to scream at the universe for placing him here, or his father for making him marry you, or you for your unrelenting stubbornness, or himself for being so incredibly attracted to that aspect of your personality, but he just wants to scream.

“You’re upset with me,” he grits out, desperately forcing his urges down. His tone causes you to freeze mid-walk. The muscles in your back visibly tense through the sheer mesh of your dress, and he squeezes his fists even harder at the sight.

“I am not upset,” you answer, and the feigned calmness of your expression makes his blood run hot.

“Tell me what is upsetting you,” he pushes, attempting to decipher if those are the correct words to use. After all, he’s supposed to seduce you in a sense, and he’s been doing a pretty piss poor job at it. But judging by the way that your right eye twitches, those were not the correct words to use.

He should’ve known; you do not take commands from him. Or anyone, really.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop giving me orders?” you answer, your expression starting to become familiar to him again.

He can’t help but allow the corner of his lip to quirk upwards. There we go.

Fiery. Defiant. Confidence that would be confused with arrogance if not for what he’s observed over the last couple of weeks.

“Stop trying to fix something that isn’t there. It is none of your concern,” you add before resuming your walk. His nostrils flare and his jaw tightens, but he forces it down.

“You are my concern because you are my wife-”

“I am not your wife,” you correct viciously, “We are not married.”

Jaebeom re-evaluates, realizing at the moment that reminding you of your attachment to him is a decidedly horrible idea.

“Well, something is bothering you. I apologize if my concern offended you,” he amends, hoping that the added apology will give him something; anything to put him in your good graces.

Instead, you sigh in exasperation and give him the same, monotonous answer that is so far from the truth that it makes every single polite vein in his body to disappear.

He saw you in that room, magic flaring out in spontaneous bursts as you nearly strangled a councilman to a second death. He saw you in that dimly lit hallway, exposed and bare and terrified. He saw you sneak around your own castle as if you’re the stranger, as he is not. Something is definitely amiss and if he has to poke and prod for you to give him the information that he wants, he’ll do it.

“You’re such a shit liar, you know that?”

You stop again. This time, your entire body whips around, eyes narrowing.

“I beg your pardon?” you seethe, stomping over to him with your fists clenching at your sides.

That’s it, he thinks, pleased that you gave him a genuine reaction for the first time in weeks. Anger and frustration make people slip up, and he’s convinced that you are not the exception.

“You,” he challenges with a cock of his head, purposefully asserting himself in your presence, “Are a shit. Fucking. Liar.”

Your jaw clenches at that, nostrils flaring with your brows furrowing deeper than before. If he really pays attention, he’s able to catch that little spark that you get in your eyes when you’re particularly vexed. It’s a sight that he’s accustomed to by now (whether that fact is positive or not, he has no idea.).

Then, just as his gaze drifts away from your eyes, your lips part. Surely, it’s to tell him off. To curse at him. Or, if he’s lucky, you’ll break and tell him exactly what’s been going on.

However, you surprise him by abiding by none of those predictions.

It’s as if whatever you were going to say is now caught in your throat.

It confuses him for a moment, but he catches the sight of his brother speaking to your uncle from the corner of his eye. The two of them are just down the hall; you must’ve sensed them as you explained the other evening. Youngjae is facing away from the balcony, but your uncle is facing it, staring at you both with a leering eye. 

To an outside spectator, nothing about it would be amiss but it’s in the way that you step closer to him, as if to conceal yourself from your uncle’s gaze. That action is uncharacteristic to the woman that he’s come to know as of late, and the contrast has him concerned. Then, he recalls the comments that the King made at one of the previous meetings about you, and it’s starting to make some sense.

He begins to wonder if the relationships within the Styrian royal family are strained because it seems to him that there’s something that’s hidden behind closed doors. That instability could prove to be a vital striking point if his father wants to crumble the Styrian royals from the inside. However, that possibility sinks to the back of his mind when your discomfort becomes glaringly apparent, based on your stiff posture, tightened jaw, and fidgeting fingers.

Remembering his father’s words, he steps into your uncle’s line of vision, meeting your eyes as a consequence. The moment that it happens, you’re brought out of whatever trance that he initially saw.

“Your Highness?” you question, oblivious to his inner turmoil. It seems to him that you’re expecting another insult to be thrown your way but instead, he increases the pace of his steps, tugging you along the length of the hallway and away from your uncle’s invading eyes.

Unaware of his true intentions, you tease him, “What? Run out of insults to give me?”

Jaebeom doesn’t reply. Instead, he ignores your moderately confused face and presses his palm against the base of your back. His face is blank, wordlessly urging you to not look back as his pace hastens.

He wants so badly to seem unaffected, but his brain is not communicating with the rest of him. He’s affected to the degree that his mind continues to battle with his father’s words. He wants to conceal the sudden protectiveness that he has over you, but concern starts to bleed through his stoic façade. You fail to take note, however.

Or, do you?

Perhaps, he is imagining the softening eyes that contrast your icy and distant expression.

The realization, however, comes too late. Before he’s able to give any words of acknowledgement, you pull away from him, as if his touch is a trigger.

“Please take your accusations elsewhere. If you’ll excuse me,” you say over your shoulder, your cordial tone unable to tame the flames that seem to dance behind your eyes.

He should reach out. Ask for more time with you. The lingering sensation of your cool touch against his warm skin does nothing but exacerbate the compulsion. But instead, his attention is caught by a man that he never intends to speak to.

“May I have a word with you, Your Highness?” your uncle asks him, and Jaebeom slowly turns around to see King Jiho’s thin, gaunt face, eyes dim and uncomfortably calculating.

✧✧✧

You need to get away.

From the palace, from this life, consistently plagued by misfortune. 

You remember the time when you could leave the walls of this city. Explore the vast, wintery lands you’ve called home for the past 200 years. To hunt. To use your magic without fear of retribution. To have your father here with you in this very garden, picking snowdrops to tuck into your hair when you’re not looking.

“My dearest,” he would say with a smile and a pinch of your cheek, “My precious gem. My smart and beautiful daughter.”

The memory of your response to him makes you chuckle, even as melancholic as you feel in the moment.

“Not really,” you had said to him, pouty and upset, “Suho says that I scare all the boys at court. They can’t even talk to me! How can I be beautiful if I scare them?”

“Your magic is power. It’s unknown, and that combination scares people. But power doesn’t make you ugly, dearest. I have magic and I’m not ugly, am I?”

Your father’s question made you ponder as a child.

“No, Father,” you answered.

“Does my power scare you?” he asked again.

“Of course not!” you replied, almost offended that he would even imply such a thing. How could his power scare you? Even as a child, you knew that your father had killed people. Humans, you gathered. Yet, his viciousness never extended to his family. Ever.

“See, dearest. Power does not make you ugly or unwanted. Power is like an amplifier. If you are good before having power, your goodness will only be amplified.”

A simplified explanation for a child, but it convinced you for a time.

But decades have passed since then, and it seems that you’re still unable to get past it; the fear of losing control; the pain of being unwanted as a result.

It’s times like these when your heart aches for his presence. What you wouldn’t give to ask for his advice, for him to guide you, one last time. What you wouldn’t give to have your father’s presence at your wedding, arranged or not. Perhaps, in a different universe, you would marry for love, and not for… Whatever you call the relationship that you have with the prince.

But what would he have told you to do in this case? Would he even be able to solve this political turmoil, the corruption that your uncle has allowed in his court? Not only does it feel like you’re surrounded by enemies, it feels as if you’re suffocating under the pressure of it all; your uncle, the court, the judgement of your own people, your impending marriage with that irritating human prince. 

Your father isn’t here anymore. The one person that you could rely on, that you could trust wholeheartedly, is gone, and the loneliness builds in your chest until suddenly, you feel a stream of tears beginning to slip down your cheeks.

“I thought that I would find you here.”

You blink in surprise at Suho’s voice, jolting out of your seated position. In an effort to conceal your tears, you bring the sleeve of your coat to your face, wiping away the signs of sadness.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask softly, sitting back down when your brother joins you on the bench. You turn away, hoping to hide the quiver in your lower lip; a tell-tale sign that you’ve been crying.

“I was asking around for you. No one knows where you went and since this garden is only accessible to the three of us, I figured that this is where you would be.”

“Congratulations on solving that mystery. I’m sure that it was very difficult,” you deadpan, your sarcasm sounding more exhausted than you thought that it would.

“Hm,” he acknowledges, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in silent support, “This was always your favourite place to wallow in your sadness.”

He almost makes you laugh.

“I am not wallowing in my sadness,” you scoff at him, pulling away to slap his arm playfully, “I’m brooding.”

Suho throws his head back in a full, throaty chuckle.

“Ah. Have you also noticed that your future husband is doing the same? Walking around the palace with a poorly disguised scowl all over his face, scaring everyone out of their wits? He’s even managed to make your handmaidens trade their praise for his handsomeness to fears that he’ll wring their necks. I should’ve known that you’d be the cause of it.”

“And what was the cause, exactly?” you feign innocence, but it looks like Suho isn’t taking it.

“You know the cause,” he answers, his playful tone turning serious. Suddenly, it becomes apparent that his purpose for seeking you out isn’t for support or comfort, but to interrogate.

“Is that what you came here for?” you accuse sharply.

There’s a deafening pause before he answers, as if his mind is choosing the correct words.

“We need to discuss what happened last week.”

You blink at your brother, choosing to feign disinterest. You already know how this conversation will go.

“No, we don’t. I am well aware of what I did, and I’m suffering the consequences for it,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“The arguments. The yelling. It needs to stop. If it doesn’t, the consequences that you will suffer will be far less civilized than they are now,” Suho advises, tone curt.

You scoff at his warning, “Did Uncle send you here to scold me?”

Suho doesn’t respond, so the answer is probably a resounding yes.

“I didn’t know that you started to do his dirty work,” you jab, and Suho’s nostrils flare at that comment. However, his level-headedness remains.

“You need to be careful, Sister. You’re going to get us into a lot of trouble if your recklessness continues.”

“I am not reckless, it’s just that-”

“The human is getting under your skin, isn’t he?” Suho interrupts, and your words stop in their tracks.

Yes, you admit through your body language, unable to put it into words.

“It was a result of being careful of the humans, Brother. I can’t just… Abide by their requests, no matter how simple they might seem to be. So, I am being careful,” you respond instead, ignoring the fact that His Highness was brought up as a talking point.

You would much rather talk about your Uncle than him, at the moment, and just the idea of that makes your skin crawl.

“That isn’t what I meant,” Suho says, causing your head to perk up.

“What do you mean?” 

Your brother sighs before taking a seat next to you, placing a supportive palm on your shoulder.

“You need to be careful of Uncle,”

“I am-”

“No, you’re not. Uncle is capable of cruelty, Sister. Unimaginable cruelty. You weren’t turned when Uncle was in his prime but I was. I saw what he did at the borders when the war was at its worst. I saw what he did to those that disobeyed him. He may not have the strength of a traditional warrior but he always manages to get other people to do his bidding,” he answers. His tone borders on patronizing, and it lights anger inside you.

“I know that he’s a backhanded snake, Brother. I know that.”

“Do you?,” he challenges, his patronizing tone now nearing a full scold, “Do you know the extent of his political power? What lengths vampires will go just to quench their thirst for money or power or glory?”

“He threatened Yuna! You can’t just expect me to just sit there and take it!” you raise your voice at him, and he visually flinches. 

“Of course not, but-”

“But what?”

He pauses, as if contemplating his choice of words.

“We need to be strategic about this,” he finally decides to say, voice softening to the point that only you would be able to hear him. “I know that you’re smart, but we need to be strategic. Know when to pick your battles because Uncle has the power to put you away. All he needs is a small incident to fuel it.”

Your mind locks onto the consequences of the council meeting.

Diplomacy is your specialty when it concerns a party that is outside of your own family. More than good. It allows objectivity and clear thinking. You thought that keeping the humans at a distance would be the objective thing to do but now, you’re able to see that it isn’t.

Your uncle is adamant about getting you married off. Nearly to the point where he’s willing to abide by the foolish requests from the humans. You’ve known from the start that he’s wanted to get rid of you somehow, so you’ve acted in direct defiance of that. But after Suho’s words, the true path is revealing itself.

“Heed Uncle’s requests for now. Do what you can do within your power to keep us safe.”

Your eyes narrow at the way his eyes seem to plead for your compliance. 

You know that your brother hates your uncle just as much as you do. In addition, he was just as against the engagement as you were. So the question is, why is he suddenly abiding by your uncle and this marriage?

“What are you up to, Brother?” you ask cautiously, looking straight into his eyes. You’re careful, but unwavering.

He laughs the question off.

“So calculating, Sister. Always trying to decipher and get the upper hand,” he teases, moving in for a hug. He wraps his arms around you, comforting and strong. Then, he whispers a promise so secure, so serious, so incredibly unlike your brother that it’s terrifying.

“You’ll find out soon enough. But know that I will protect you. Both of you. Always.”

✧✧✧

“She’s difficult, isn’t she?” 

Jaebeom presses his lips together, unsure of how to respond to King Jiho’s question. 

Should he play on your uncle’s side and agree? Remain neutral? Or should he oppose him and take the stance of a protective lover?

Jaebeom decides on the truth instead. 

“She is unlike any woman that I’ve ever met,” he responds. Well, it’s some form of the truth, at least.

The King chuckles, “Well for starters, she’s a vampire. I cannot imagine that you’ve met very many.”

Jaebeom’s jaw clenches slightly at the latter comment, but he refrains from allowing any more of his emotional response to seep through.

“I have, actually. I fought in the wars, Your Grace,” he answers as calmly as he can, ignoring the slight jab of the King’s words. He essentially implied that he did not leave the capital to fight a war that’s been raging since his birth.

What kind of person did he take him for?

“Apologies for my presumptuous comment,” he says cautiously, “I nearly forgot that you did. After all, the years that you’ve spent on the battlefield pales in comparison to my own.”

Ah, yes. The classic vampire condescension appears once again. 

It’s no wonder that you’re so apprehensive around him, and it only serves to make Jaebeom wonder how he’s been treating you. This is his first private conversation with the man, and he can already gather that his intentions are less than honourable. 

This vampire king is slimy, and that fact makes Jaebeom angrier than he already is.  

“Why the serious face? We will be a family soon, Jaebeom. And I'll be here to watch over your blossoming relationship with the Princess until the end.”

The King speaks in thinly veiled threats. Whether he’ll make good on those threats, Jaebeom isn’t sure. So, he airs on the side of caution and represses the scathing retort that threatens to slip from his lips. Instead, he shifts the conversation to you, hoping that the conversation will just be seen as a man attempting to learn more about his intended, and nothing else.

“I’m sure that you want to protect your niece, so I am confident in your watchful eye,” Jaebeom replies, internally scoffing. If the past week has taught him anything, it’s that you don’t need to be watched or protected, least of all by your uncle. If anything, Jaebeom is beginning to believe that you would flourish away from the restrictions of the palace, away from the scrutiny of royal life.

Just like him.

“I look forward to giving her hand to you,” King Jiho says, and the presumptuous undertone has Jaebeom’s fists clenching behind his back. The King is either ignorant or foolish to believe that you are his to give away, to use as a pawn in his scheming. 

But is Jaebeom any better? He reminds himself that he’s doing the same; using you for his scheming. For his agenda. 

For his father’s agenda.

The inkling of guilt that’s been developing over the past week is only intensified with the realization. 

“Are you two especially close?” Jaebeom pushes a little, just to see what his response would be. The King’s eyes narrow, just slightly, before answering.

“She is my brother’s precious daughter,” he replies, and Jaebeom takes note of the way that his eyes flash with betrayal; with anger when he says precious daughter. “So of course, we are close. But, this conversation would probably be more conducive if we speak about the Princess when she is present. Perhaps, you both could join me for tea after your family arrives?”

Jaebeom immediately recognizes the invitation as another ploy for him to dig his nails into both you and himself; to grasp onto that control that he so desperately craves. 

He’s a small, pathetic man, but Jaebeom nods anyway, and bows to feign respect. 

“I’ll leave it to the Princess to accept that invitation,” he answers confidently.

Predictably so, the King’s brow twitches in irritation. How annoying it must be to allow you to make an autonomous decision. Now, Jaebeom understands why you possess such vitriol for him. 

With that understanding, Jaebeom allows himself the luxury of giving the King a raised brow and a smug smirk. Then, he bows again. This time, he bends a full, mocking 90 degrees and walks away without another word, once again ignoring the guilt that continues to infect his mind.

And it works, for a time.

He speaks with his father an hour later, which refocuses him on his mission. He’s here to marry you. To gain access to vampire knowledge, previously inaccessible to humans since the war first began. He very well might be the first in four generations to have the opportunity to do so, and he knows that he cannot fail under any circumstances.

No matter how much the better part of his subconscious wants to.

But Jaebeom is beginning to realize that forgiveness and civility is a luxury that he will never have. Not when his mother’s mutilated body continues to haunt his dreams. Not when his father and his entire country is counting on him to end this war.

Permanently.

Yet, when he finally has a chance to sit in his chambers to write, he’s finding it harder than he anticipated.

This must be the thousandth military report that Jaebeom has written over the course of his life, but this one is slowly but surely becoming the most difficult.

His chambers are dark, save for the warm glow of the candles and the lamp in the corner of his desk. The quill in his left hand is wet with invisible ink, but the tip fails to make contact with the parchment.

Half of his report has been written, mostly concerning his own health and the structure of the vampire royals. Jaebeom details the layout of the palace in detail; from the courtyard and the gardens to the training grounds and the armoury. While his father is in Styria, such verbal conversations within the country could be dangerous. The nature of his true mission is contained to his father, Jinyoung, and himself. Youngjae doesn’t even know, and Jaebeom aims to keep it that way with these discrete, bi-weekly reports. He can’t trust anyone.

Especially, you and your face and your voice and your alluring, terrifyingly powerful magic.

Surely, his father would want the details of your power; strengths and weaknesses. He already knows that you can sense auras from approximately two meters away; he didn’t even have to try to get that piece of valuable information.

He sighs out, pressing his palms against his eyelids in exertion. He has to get into your good graces. To be a good husband. To act the part.

He must. 

Jaebeom knows that you crave freedom. Autonomy. The ability to use magic without being terrified of scrutiny. He saw it with his own eyes. So, he’s going to give it to you. 

At least, the idea of it. 

The last subject that needs to be addressed is the vast repository of information that could be made available to him. After following you around the palace, he finally managed to get something that could prove fruitful.

The palace library.

There must have been hundreds and thousands of shelves filled to the brim with scrolls, books, and manuscripts, some of which had titles that he managed to recognize. The only difference is that those were first edition copies that date back to the times when the war had just started.

Not only were there works of literature that attracted him, but there were also pieces that detailed everything there is to know about vampire society and its vast history. Jaebeom was only able to take a brief glance, but he saw enough to understand the collection is an incredible find for their cause. It’s exactly what they’ve been looking for. The assortment could inform them of Styrian secrets that humans would never be able to get a hold of, until now.

All he needs to do is write that information down and give it to his father, but his hand fails to write them down at a normal speed.

There isn’t much time before the Alcasian’s reach the palace, so there isn’t a second to waste. But, his writing is almost lethargic; messy and unmotivated. On a surface level, he did what he had to do to get the information that he needed. But that doesn’t help the uncomfortable, nearly suffocating sensation that begins to bubble out from his chest and into his throat with each stroke of the quill. It’s almost as if he feels…

Shame?

No, he reminds himself, no.

He blinks rapidly before shaking his head to refocus.

Pressing the tip of the quill to the parchment, he continues to write, ignoring the gut-wrenching guilt that continues to fester in his mind.

✧✧✧

“Princess?”

“Mmhm?” you nod in the midst of your distraction, turning your head in the direction of the sound.

“I don’t know how to control the sparks,” a little dark-haired boy tells you, jutting his hands out with a flickering, uncontrolled flame in the centre. He pouts, and the endearing sight makes your chest swell.

Right. Your task at hand is this magic lesson to the freshly turned vampires. Freshly turned, meaning that they can handle their bloodthirsty impulses to be around the general public, but not in control of their magic to not pose some form of danger. Your father had organized a program specifically to integrate vampires turned as children, and you’ve been the head since he passed.

And unfortunately, more and more vampire children have been showing up lately. Most of them come from the border, where the fighting was the thickest and most prevalent.

“Here,” you start by placing your palms underneath his small hands, “You’re putting too much magic into your hands, and too much of it means that it’s hard to wield. Try to concentrate on it, sweetheart. It’s like squinting your eyes when you try to see anything far away.”

The little boy nods cutely, and the stray sprigs of his hair bounce with each movement of his head. It takes a second, but the wild sparks eventually calm down to a small, controlled flame in the center of his palms, flickering with warmth. The rest of the students gasp in awe, rushing towards the little boy in fascination.

However, the small flame only lasts for a couple of seconds before dissipating, the boy panting with exhaustion as his hands swing at his sides.

“That’s so hard, Princess!” he pouts, slumping onto the ground with the other children circling him.

“It’s supposed to be hard. You have to train for a long time to control it,” you explain, tone softening in an effort to not seem too imposing or strict.

“How long did it take you, Princess?” a little girl asks, blonde pigtails swinging as he turns her head in the direction of your voice.

“A long time,” you answer, pausing to demonstrate on a physical object. Your eyes dart around to spot an object; any object, before deciding on a lit column candle that rests on the candelabra across from you. With a practiced twist of your wrist, you carefully lift up the candle from the candelabra and bring it in front of your students.

“It took me a very long time to be able to lift something without flinging it across the room or crushing it,” you laugh, basking in the collective sounds of pure, childlike discovery. The mere awe in their voices nearly heals the restless, unrelenting anger that you’ve been experiencing as of late, courtesy of that damned human prince.

“What kind of magic do you have, Princess?” another child asks, peering up at you with wide eyes.

“Energy. Everything in the world has energy, living or not. So, I can move and control that energy around and manipulate objects and the space within it,” you state simply, albeit worried that the complexity of the information will go over their little heads. So, you begin to add to that explanation with simpler vocabulary. However, your mind gradually strays toward his human Highness and company, who are situated on the balcony above.

And the human Highness in question is currently venturing down the stairs to probably spark up some unwanted conversation, on your part.

You truly cannot escape him.

With an exasperated sigh, you walk over to deal with him, allowing the children to practice as planned.

“I am clearly busy, Your Highness,” you say to him, unimpressed. You would almost feel sorry for the tone that you’re taking with him, if it wasn’t for the fact that he stripped you of a responsibility that you greatly enjoyed. That, and the fact that he is the way that he is.

“Normally, a simple hello is customary when greeting someone,” he scowls, eyes sharpening in displeasure.

“I saw you three hours ago.”

He pauses to allow a small smirk to creep onto his face, manifesting into a slight quirk of his brow, “I cannot want a hello from my wife?”

You don’t bother to correct him this time around.

“I’m not entirely sure that you deserve a hello from me,” you give him a false, simpering smile instead. If you’ve learnt anything about him over the past month, it’s that he hates it when you take him down a peg. Or a couple of them, really.

“You just said it,” he responds matter-of-factly. His words almost make you physically recoil, and it seems that he’s noticed. The scowl from a couple of seconds ago is morphing into a smug smirk. Clearly, he’s pleased with the way that his wit caught you off guard.

“I believe that I’ve made it abundantly clear that I do not wish to see nor speak with you,” you sigh, much too preoccupied to entertain his teasing. You haven’t had any conversations of substance since what occurred last week, and you intend to keep it that way for as long as possible.

He should at least allow you to savour what’s left of your freedom before taking you away from your family.

So, you begin to turn away, spinning on the balls of your feet. Unfortunately, you only make it a couple of steps before you feel his fingers wrap around your wrist.

Despite the rough callouses, his touch is tender and warm; so warm…

“Your uncle has made it apparent to me that-”

You shake your head.

“My uncle,” you interrupt, yanking your wrist from his grip before glaring into those sharp eyes of his, “Can fuck off. And I recommend that you do the same.”

And with that, Jaebeom nearly recoils. You can see it. But then, his momentary surprise quickly disappears, replacing itself with the infuriatingly characteristic smirk that makes your entire body heat up.

“I believe that is the first time that I’ve ever heard you curse,” he almost smiles, stalking closer until he’s only an arm’s length away. Then, he leans in; just a bit, and his voice descends into a whisper, “Who knew that the Princess Regent would have such a filthy mouth?”

Your nostrils flare in irritation, and you’re hoping that it disguises the fluttering in the pit of your stomach after he implies that you have a filthy mouth…

“Fuck. Off,” you try to spit out the insult with a smile on your face, but you’re not entirely sure if it worked. Instead of dwelling on it though, you turn around and walk away, as if nothing riled up your temper. That was the plan at least, until you nearly ran over a pair of students in the process.

“Who’s that, Princess?” one of them asks, peeking to the side to catch a glimpse of him. They slowly waddle over to him until their brows furrow and their nose scrunches in disgust.

“Smells like a human,” they say, immediately retreating. An almost protective barrier is formed between yourself and Jaebeom, your students seemingly intent on shielding you from him.

“This is His Highness, Prince Jaebeom from the human lands. He’s my…” you trail off, trying to search for the right word to describe him. Enemy? Bane of your existence? Eternal annoyance?

“Intended. We’re getting married,” he answers for you instead, taking a single step forward before bowing to your students respectfully. Although there is a healthy distance between Jaebeom and the children, your students seem wary of his presence. That prediction of yours proves to be correct because the little boy with the fire magic leaves the protective huddle to say, “You’re not allowed to marry the Princess.”

Your jaw drops at his words. Part of you is impressed by his outspoken behaviour but the other half is mortified. If anyone else overheard, they would start to question your abilities as an educator and then your uncle will have you thrown off the project and-

“Sounds like I have some competition,” Jaebeom chuckles after laughing loudly, the bass-like sound almost echoing in the room. Then, he crouches down to ruffle the little boy’s hair, and the expression that he has on his face is…

Almost pleasant.

Almost.

Strangely, it’s enough to have you abide by whatever he wants to ask of you. So, you ask, “What is it that my uncle requested of me?”

Jaebeom’s eyes widen marginally, likely surprised by your compliance.

“The Alcasian’s are here. We are to meet them with you, at my side,” he answers, and you swallow at the way he emphasizes the last couple of words.

You, at my side.

You’re cautious, still, but you nod regardless. You need to meet the humans anyway, so why waste the chance at the protection of an escort?

Surely, this feeling is that. The need for an escort. It’s practical.

So, make your leave after waving for Corvus to supervise the children in your absence.

Jaebeom urges you away with a gentle hand on the base of your spine; it’s a habit that you���re beginning to notice from him. The familiar warmth of his palm seeps through the fabric of your dress. However, this time, you feel the sensation of his palm gliding across your lower back with a pressure that feels utterly illicit, and captures your attention with his opposite hand on your chin. With a slight crook of his knuckle, you meet the dark eyes that you’re begrudgingly accustomed to staring into.

“Just to let you know, I am not abiding by your uncle’s wishes,” he tells you softly, and your eyebrows raise in surprise and suspicion.

“It is at my command to have you on my arm when I greet my family, not King Jiho’s,” Jaebeom continues, and the tone that his voice takes is no longer playful. Not like before. He spits out your uncle’s name and title as if he possesses the same degree of venomous hate that you do. Then, he leans in for what seems to be a kiss, until he tilts his head towards your ear at the very last second.

“I want you at my side as my equal,” he whispers, and if you weren’t squeezing your fists together, you would surely gasp at his admission, “I want them to know who their future queen is.”

You’re unable to restrain the shock that you’re surely displaying all over your face. Your jaw is open, eyes wide. Realistically speaking, becoming Queen isn’t possible. Suho is next in line, not you. He might be the Crown Prince of his country, but you cannot rule his people either. You cannot live with him in Alsace; you’ll die the second you step foot in the light of the sun, out of the magic that shields Styria. However, the fact that he’s willing to give you that… 

“I’m confused, I cannot be a queen, I-”

“Why are you so against the idea of it? Why do you constantly fight me? Once I marry you, I will give you the autonomy you desire. The freedom that you so desperately need. There will be peace. Isn’t that what you want?” Jaebeom asks, but freezes mid-sentence, likely realizing that it came out harsher than he intended. 

“Of course, I want peace!” you nearly yell, pulling away from his touch, “But can’t you see? Marrying you will be the end of my freedom, and it’s presumptuous for you to believe that it’s something for you to give me. I’m not even able to attend council meetings anymore, courtesy of your ridiculous policies, need I remind you. I’ll be separated from my brother and my sister who need me. Once I marry you; once you attempt to control me… I cannot protect my people and my family from my uncle, and you’ll force me to-”

You cut yourself off, ashamed that you’ve revealed so much already. 

“You should see your family yourself. Please give them my regards,” you finish, unable to fight any longer. You begin to walk away, but you should know better by now. 

His Highness never allows you reprieve. He never allows you to simply walk away. He has to fight and argue and irritate and-

Your breath catches when you feel his fingers wrap around your wrist. But this time, there is no force. He doesn’t pull or jerk you towards him. Instead, he keeps his distance, save for the thumb that begins to rub warm, soothing circles on the inside of your wrist. Your skin suddenly feels sensitive, as if your skin is being pulled and drawn tighter with each second in his presence.

“Do you truly hold me in such low esteem?” his voice is soft, almost small, eyes seemingly on the cusp of tears.

You’re taken aback by the change in emotion, but actively choose to ignore the guilt that’s beginning to slice into you by replying, “You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise.”

“Do you hate me that much? To the extent that you’re unwilling to give me a chance; to give us a chance?” he responds, and his usage of us makes your chest clench. He could be referring to his people; to humans as a whole, and part of you wants so desperately to believe that is true.

But your cursed mind wanders, betraying you by believing that he’s referring to your marriage. To whatever relationship that could come about from this absurd arrangement.

“I do hate you.”

A lie.

“Have you ever wanted to kill me?” 

“Yes.”

Another lie.

His eyes narrow immediately, chin jutting out as it usually does when he becomes angry.

“Why is it that you continue to be a shit fucking liar?” he seethes, and you see red. You yank the hand that remains in his hand in an attempt to storm off, but his grip is too strong. Instead, he pulls you in with a force that leaves you dizzy. His eyes, concentrated and mesmerizingly dark, bore into yours with such intensity that you’re beginning to understand why your handmaidens became so afraid...

Terrified that this human prince would wring their necks.

“Look me in the eye and say that. Say that you hate me. Say that you want to kill me. Because if you actually wanted that, you would’ve done it already.”

Your body freezes at his accusation, magic beginning to slip through the cracks of your façade. Fists clenching, you try so desperately to rein it in. 

“And what of you? Do you hate me? Do you want to kill me?” you challenge, barely able to get the words out without sounding shaky, “ You want revenge for the humans that we’ve killed, don’t you? I’m sure that bringing back the head of the Princess Regent would be a great fucking triumph. Oh, the sheer glory that you would bask in.”

Upon the assertion slipping from your lips, the greatsword strapped to his hip becomes glaringly apparent. He tugs, forcing you just a little bit closer. His brows furrow; out of frustration or anger or effort, you’re not sure, but the tension on his face eases as soon as it appears.

“I don’t want glory,” he breathes against you, “I just want this war to be finished.”

He sounds utterly wounded, as if pleading for his life. The desperation of his expression, the darkness of his eyes. You almost want to secede. So before you know it; before you’re even aware of how breathy and meek he’s made your voice, you say, “Your Highness, I-“

“I know that you do not want to marry me,” he pauses with a swallow, tightening his hold on your wrist, just barely, “Frankly, I do not want to marry you either. I do not take commands very well. I’m sure that you understand,” he continues, almost chuckling at his own misfortune.

“I also know that I cannot promise peace. I understand that. I apologize for antagonizing you but I am not going to apologize for those policies, because I truly believe that it's what's best for my people. I also cannot promise that I won’t continue to fight your backward and completely absurd vampire customs but I will promise you this,” his eyes soften exponentially, and the sight of it causes your breath to hitch, “I will not harm you. I will never force you to do anything. I promise that I will be a good husband to you. A good father, if you would bless me with children one day. I will remain faithful. I will not make you feel as if you have no say in this marriage. I know that my existence in your life would be but a fleeting memory but I will treat you well, and hope that those short memories in your long life will be your fondest.”

For the first time since meeting him, you’re speechless. You have nothing to say. Your mind is blank.

“I might be the biggest fool who ever lived to make grand promises to such a terrifying woman,” he smiles at you, and it’s as if heat is starting to bleed into your body, “I also won't lie and say that your magic isn't one of the most terrifying things that I've witnessed. But I am not afraid of you. I see you. So in fact, use your power all you want, I don’t care. And if that opinion makes me a fool, so be it.”

“Your Highness, I almost killed someone,” you counter, unable to believe that a human would be so unafraid when your fellow vampires are the direct opposite.

“But you didn’t,” he replies, and weirdly enough, it calms you. Perhaps, it's the way that his body language remains strong; he doesn't cower or waver from his position in front of you. His eye contact remains, inky pupils boring into your own as if he sees; truly sees, the being behind the title, the magic, and the fangs.

"You don't know me," you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to stop tears from welling up. "You don't know what I've done."

The slaughter after your turning. The inability to control your magic at the start of it all. The people that you've killed as a result.

He shakes his head, "You didn't hurt me. You could have, but you didn't. That's good enough if you ask me."

His words sink in, and suddenly, there’s nothing in the world that you can feel except for his distinct aura, warm, calm, and heart-achingly human.

“So, my only request is that you meet my family by my side, and for you to stop fighting me,” he pleads, and now, you’re starting to notice that you’ve subconsciously drifted even closer to his body during his speech.

"That's two requests, Your Highness," you joke in an attempt to seem unrattled, unsure of what to make of your turbulent emotions. You're predicting that he'll make another snide remark but instead, he remains serious.

“Please,” he adds before lifting your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the back of it. In an almost embarrassing fashion, your entire body ignites upon contact with his lips; it's as if your long-dead heart is actually beating in your chest. His plea sounds genuine, yet desperate and vulnerable. It’s unlike the prince that you first met. He’s almost...

Sincere, without the bravado of his teasing. 

So much so, that you find yourself whispering a quiet yes. 

And without another word, you loop your arm through his and tug him towards you. You press the side of your body against his, slotting together perfectly before walking towards the throne room, his family awaiting you both.

✧✧✧

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[pt. 2] ⤎ [vermillion series] ⤏ [pt. 4]

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