#jaebeom fic

[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

[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.

✧✧✧

tag list: @pointofviewyugyeom @ssssssul @shawkneecaps @anitdot

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. 2] ⤎ [vermillion series] ⤏ [pt. 4]

all rights reserved © 2022 aura-mp3

#got7writerscollective #kdiarynet #ficscafe #kvanity #jay b #jaebeom #lim jaebeom #got7 #got7 writing #got7 scenario #got7 au #got7 fic #jaebeom fic #jay b fic #kpop fic #got7 smut #tw war #tw violence #myworks:vermillion

[veethefreeelf]

I will start re-reading the fics in my rec lists and reblogging each one with a review

Please, like, comment and reblog these stories from each author. They spent so much time and effort creating these for us, so please show them all the love 💗

#fan fic #fic recs #fics #jeonghan fic #namjoon fic #baekhyun fic #jaebeom fic

[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

[jae-bummer]

What Is Probably the Worst Pep Talk Ever

Request: hi! could i request for a scenario with jay park where his girlf teases him and denies him of skinship (doesn’t hug back or give him kisses) i love the way u write sm, thank u if u choose to write it. also while ure at it im curious whether ur username is inspired by him.

To answer your question, my username is actually inspired by Jay B from Got7! Got7 was actually one of the first groups I stanned :)

Pairing: Jay Park x Reader

Genre: Fluff (Warning: 18+ for language and steamy commentary)

.

"Are you nervous?" you asked, stepping into the elevator.

"Nervous?" Jay chuckled. "Not even once in my life."

"Am I misremembering?" you hummed, tapping your chin. "Or didn't you say you were nervous the day you asked if we could be exclusive?"

"Well, I mean," he cringed.

"And what about the time when we had first started dating and you said I made you nervous?" you continued.

"You must have dreamed it," he said, fighting the corners of his mouth from turning upward. "Jay Park is never nervous."

"Says the man talking about himself in third person," you laughed. "You still haven't pressed the elevator button by the way."

"Shit," he muttered, stepping forward and furrowing his eyebrows. "What floor did I say we needed to be on again?"

"11 maybe?" you tried. "Maybe if you weren't so nervous, you'd remember."

Shooting you a glare over his shoulder, he stabbed at the appropriate button, and stepped back to stand beside you.

You couldn't help but chuckle as you tucked yourself into Jay's side. He was easily the most self-assured person to ever suffer from self-esteem issues. While the two traits sounded like they shouldn't intermingle, they somehow did. He liked to play at being cocky and keep his image intact, but you were the one who saw him lose sleep over some of his daily decisions. It had become one of your sole missions in life to make sure that he knew a healthy amount of worry was okay. He didn't have to conquer the world every time he stepped foot out of his door.

"Who all is supposed to be at this thing?" you sighed, adjusting your outfit.

"A lot of industry people," Jay grumbled. "A lot of people I need to impress."

"Is it a need or a want?" you asked, looking at him from your periphery. Judging by the little wrinkle in between his brows, you weren't sure if he was even listening. "Jay?"

Shaking off his trance, he turned to you with wide eyes. "Yeah?"

"You didn't hear me, did you?" you grinned.

As you spoke, the elevator finally stopped at your desired floor and started to slide open. Wrapping his fingers around yours, Jay took a deep breath. You could immediately feel the sweat coating his palms.

"I say this with love," you whispered as you moved forward into the hallway. "Please, please, wipe your hands on your jeans."

"Y/N," he hissed. Taking his hand from yours, he wiped helplessly at his thighs. "My palms don't sweat."

"Then they're crying."

Taking another deep breath through his nose, Jay placed his hand on the small of your back and leaned in. "Have I ever told you that you are the cutest, most fucking impossible person I have ever met?"

Spinning away from him, you grinned. "Have I ever told you that when you're worried about something, you clench your jaw? It's kind of hot but can't be great for your teeth."

"For the love of God," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Could you please just support me here?"

"Why?" you asked, fake confusion coating your features. "Are you nervous?"

If looks could kill, you would be dead on the floor. Finally conceding, you reached forward to weave your fingers through his. "Baby, being nervous isn't a bad thing. It just means that something important is happening."

"Fine!" he gasped. "You caught me! Jay Park is actually stressed the fuck out!"

"Third person-"

"Y/N," he deadpanned.

"Okay, okay," you cooed, patting him carefully on the chest. "What has you stressed out?"

Glancing over his shoulder and toward the sounds of the party you were supposed to attend, he looked back at you. "Do we really have to do this right now?"

"No one is going to hear you admitting your weaknesses," you chuckled. "Just tell me what's going on in your head."

"Okay, for one, I don't have weaknesses, so let's establish that right here and fucking now."

"Of course, baby."

He rolled his eyes and began to pout. "I just...don't want to look stupid."

"You know you're the best at what you do," you nodded in what you hoped was encouragement. "Even if you do make yourself look stupid, you always save it somehow."

"But these people, Y/N," he clucked, shaking his head. "They're next level. Investors I need, executives that could have a lot to say about my next moves-"

"And so what?" you asked. "You may not be the tallest in the room, or the most well-spoken, but-"

"Ay! Ay! Ay!" he grunted. "You are shit at pep talks, you know that?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, which in turn made him give you a reluctant smile. "You have you're short-"

"Watch it."

"Shortcomings," you asserted. "But everyone does. You overcome yours every time."

"Yeah, I do, don't I?"

"You do," you smiled. "I know you're your own biggest fan and I'm likely the second biggest. Let me step into that number one spot and have your back tonight."

"Pfft, unnecessary," he chuckled. "Even if I'm struggling, I still got me."

"Of course!" you huffed. "So silly of me to even suggest otherwise!"

Pulling you into him, Jay wrapped his arms around your waist, and nuzzled his face into your neck. "Look at you with that big, sexy brain. Making all of the sense in the world."

"More like stroking your ego in the precisely correct locations," you laughed, scrubbing your fingers across the back of his scalp.

"You can stroke me in other ways tonight," he whispered, biting playfully at your ear.

Moving to face you, he leaned forward to attempt a kiss. Naturally, you turned away. His lips met your cheek, causing him to groan.

Laughing, you turned toward him again, and pulled him in by the shoulders. Smiling up until the moment your lips met, you allowed yourself to get caught up in the man that drove you crazy. In true Jay fashion, he slid his hand down to give a tight squeeze to your butt, causing you to squeak in alarm.

"I think I'm ready now," he hummed. "You?"

"I've been ready," you said quietly. "I was just waiting for you to be too."

#jay park #park jaebeom #aomg #jay park fic #jay park drabble #jay park scenario #jay park oneshot #jay park x reader #jay park aomg #h1ghrmusic

[xxxzzum]

カバー muzzx; perdido na emoção disso tudo

caso se inspire, dê os créditos.​

indisponível #obs.: o título obrigatoriamente deverá ser alterado! d. 1/10/22

escrevi o relato abaixo quando a capa ainda era pessoal... apesar de ter editado com os gostosos do got7, essa fic é de 19 days, já que tô ativa no fandom da webtoon igual uma maluca e só produzo coisa dos tianshan.

como tenho mais dificuldade de fazer capas com personagens 2d, gosto de escolher boiolas lindos pra representar meus shipps.

jackson wang de momo e jb de he tian, querem mais o que?

essa fic tem um enredo leve, não canônico, de praia, surf e sacanagens entre dois caras que se conhecem e se encantam um pelo outro.

#capa para fanfic #capa de fanfic #capa de fic #capa para fic #jackjae #jaejack #jb #jackson wang #got 7 #kpop #jaebeom #19 days #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #he tian x mo guan shan #mo guan shan x he tian #pequeno mo #momo #old xian #muzzx #spirit fanfic #spirit fanfics #edição #edits #kpop edits #kpop edit #tianshan fanfic #jackjae fanfic #capista de doação

[3raaaachachacha]

1:01 am

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

Warnings: cursing, miscommunication, mentions of anxiety

66. “I’m never leaving…I promise.”

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

- Admin 🦋

#got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 jb #got7 timestamps #got7 imagines #got7 oneshot #got7 reactions #got7 angst #got7 fluff #got7 fics #got7 drabbles #got7 boyfriend #got7 blurbs #got7 best friends #got7 scenarios #got7 masterlist #mark tuan #jackson wang #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom

[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

[plutonotes]

Hellooo so I decided to open up commissions! If you want any examples you can find them here (you can only see it if you’re a register user!) :

#jj project #kpop #lim jaebeom #park jinyoung #mark tuan #jackson wang #choi youngjae #bambam #yugyeom #got7 fics #got7

[seawitch62]

Worst Date Scenario

Jay Park x OC

Fluff

WC: .7k

Worst date scenario.

Jay Park

Bee was excited, Jay finally reached out to her today.

Realizing he's busy, with the new label, Won Soju, festivals appearances, music, working on the new music.

Still, it's been a minute since she last heard from him, even a text would have been nice, she sighs.

Tomorrow, what did he say?

"A date you won't forget!"

What romantic adventures has he got planned ?

"I have nothing to wear!"

Shopping expedition is needed,

Bee thinks to herself.

Bee hits the mall, clothing stores, 

browsing for hours till she finds what is the perfect  outfit.

"Shoes! I need new shoes!" She mutters.

Zeroing in on the shoe stores she finds the perfect shoes to match her newly acquired outfit.

"Handbag, I don't have one that is coloured coordinates with the outfit and shoes"

Next  stop, looking for a bag to match, her determination pays off and she finds exactly what she wants.

Accessories, 'can't ever go wrong with new bling'

Last stop, the hairdresser, trim and colour and eyebrow wax. 

After eating her take out, she grabbed at the mall, she pondered her purchases and was very pleased, telling herself, she did  great and she will look 'hot'.

From experience Bee has discovered when Jay states a time to be ready fifteen minutes early.

He is not one to sit idly, movement is the name of the game.  Not lacking in conversation skills, he can keep the chat alive, animated hand gestures come part and parcel with his dialogue.

Knowing this Bee keeps herself abreast with the news and other happenings, one never knows what topics may arise.

A vehicle pulls up, just as she suspected fourteen minutes early, one last glance in the mirror, happy with her reflected image, she leaves her cozy flat, locking the door behind her and heads toward the car.

The man holding the door open for her, Kwon as she simply refers to him, closes the door as she seats herself  in the car.

Jay greets her with a smile, and immediately starts chattering.

Cursory questions "how are you? What have you been up to?"

Followed by lengthy discussions about his happenings.

Suddenly he changes the subject 

"I have a present  for you"

"Wow thank you" she replies with a warm smile.

Jay passes her a gift bag, intrigued as to what he may have got her, she looks into the bag.

The first thing she notices is the pattern on the material.

It's exactly the same as the pants he is wearing.

"How sweet" she tells herself

With exuberant delight she yanks the item out of the bag.

It's a pair of pants.

The pants are a twin set to those he  is wearing. 'So romantic, matching outfits'

Dizzy with happiness, she reaches over, arms wrapping around him, "I love them thank you".

She is rewarded with a grin.

Bee's mind is running around in circles, they have been driving for a while now, where are they going?

Jay is excited, hyper even, but when is not!

"Your gonna fucking love the surprise, you will not fucking forget it, I promise!" He states with certainty.

Music fills the vehicle, Bee is as happy as a bird with a worm.

Anticipation slowly mounting, what else does he have in store? Romantic picnic? A hike while they walk hand in hand?

She has no clue, but she is eager for the answer.

As if fate had heard , the vehicle stopped.

Kwon opens the  door and Jay leaps out of the vehicle.

"Come on,"  Jay tells her impatiently.

Bee exits the vehicle, only to notice people surrounding Jay with  greetings, she notices they are wearing the same pants as Jay and the ones he gifted her.

Confused she looks around,

'Where the hell are we?' she ponders.

'It looks like a farm' 

Jay is busily chatting away, then he looks at Bee.

"Welcome to Won Soju Farm"

"Grab your pants!"

"Let's get to work!"

"Work?" She utters.

Smiling from ear to ear, Jay saunters off with the crowd that greeted his arrival.

Looking around she realizes he is not joking, this is indeed a farm.

He wants or expects me to work on his farm!

Dejectedly, she grabs the pants and follows Jay.

He is right; she muses this is one date she will never forget.

#jay park fic #Jay Park fanfics #aomg scenarios #Jay Park × OC #worst date scenario fic #jay park date fic #jay park fanfic #jay park scenarios #jay walker #h1ghrmusic jay park #aomg jay park #jay park #jaebeom park x oc #jaebeom fanfiction #jaebeom x reader #jaebeom imagine #jaebeom scenarios

[sweetestofchaos]

Knock, Knock | L.JB x M.YG | Intro

🩸pairing: Jaebeom x Yoongi

genre: Fluff

🩸au: Soulmate AU, Smut, Vampire AU, MxM

word count: 1K

🩸warnings: Hints to Same Sex Relationships - No major warnings for now.

rating: Teen (will change later on)

The Lims left their home in South Korea and sailed across the seas to a whole new world. 

🩸a/n: I have a vague idea for this, so I'm just going with the flow. This chapter is just setting the tone and giving you some background on our little town and bloodlines. Support/drip/mdni divider made by @benkeibear. Also thank you to @apotatomashedbybts for fixing the coloring on Yoongi's pic!

taglist: @theharrowing @minisugakoobies

next🩸 series masterlist

Picture a Victorian styled home sitting on a hill that is surrounded by thick forest. The trees are mostly dead, but they hold strong and cast creepy shadows during the night. The forest butts up right along the edge of a town that holds no more than a few hundred people. Everyone knows, everyone. That kind of town. It’s a big tourist spot in the fall due to the history that surrounds the home on the hill. Hell, they even have a museum and store front dedicated to the house on the hill. The Lim Manor, it’s called.

The story is that back in the day, in the late 1800’s there was a family of three that hired the Wangs to act on their behalf. The Wangs were well known merchants that went all over the world in search of the best goods. The Wang’s found the little town of what was then called Linemell and they thought the hilltop surrounded by a beautiful forest would suit their patron’s well. Wang Yan was the head of the Wangs and he commissioned the best builders in the town to build Lim's new home.

The manor was built and commissioned through the capable hands of the Mins and Jeons. The wood and furniture for the home was all imported from somewhere overseas. Extravagant. Luxurious. Opulent. These were the words used to describe the Lim Manor in its completion. Wang Yan was tired at the end of the Manor’s completion; he had spent a lot of energy in making sure that everything would be to his patron’s liking. His last act before he stepped down and handed the reins over to his eldest son, Wuhan, was to send word to the Lims that their new home was ready.

The Lim's left their home in South Korea and sailed across the seas to a whole new world. 

The Lim's were a family of three brothers. They weren’t very active during the day, mostly coming out during dreary weather with thick clouds. They were all handsome, unnaturally so, some of the townspeople would say. They dressed in rich attire, lace, silks, velvet and leather. The jewels that adored their fingers, wrists, neck and ears were beyond anyone's wildest dreams. Just a single ring could feed the whole town for months.

Jinyoung the youngest, was tall and thin with a strong jawline, plush lip and dark eyes that seemingly mimicked the night sky. His onyx hair was cut close to his head and was worn off his forehead or worn down hiding his eyes. He was often found in the town's bookstore or out at his estate’s stable with the horses.

Jaebeom was the middle sibling and also the shortest of the three brothers. Not much was known about him. He was of a slender build with wide shoulders and pale hands. His hair was fairly long for the brothers’ style. It came to his chin in thick dark waves of black silk. His face was fuller, almost soft looking if it wasn’t for his deep sea black eyes. In a certain light they resembled the very depths of one’s soul. Or so that was the rumor around town since the middle brother wasn’t seen often. Some say that he was sickly and whatever ailed him was the reason that the Lim's moved to town.

Mark the eldest, was someone out of a dream. Tall and slender with a face chiseled by the Gods. His eyes were a deep brown with thick black lashes and even darker inky black hair that was cut short and close to his head. He had a mole on his upper lip that was the talk of the town. Many young bachelors and bachelorette would like to express their love for it with their touch. Mark was often hidden away in the branches of the orchards that lined the back of their estate or seen sitting in the window on the highest floor.

The Jeons and Mins are one in the same. You cannot have one without the other. Their bloodlines date back to ancient times where they fended off great beasts together and stood side by side during war. The families youngest are Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook, complete opposite but the best of companions. Yoongi is four years older than Jungkook, but often the age is confused. Jungkook is a tall young man with a strong physique, slim waist, large brown eyes that have yet to lose their childlike wonder and black hair that hangs around his chin.

Yoongi on the other hand is of average height with a softer body. Slender legs, wide shoulders and a slightly thicker waist than Jungkook’s. His hair is blonde, a trait passed down from his mother’s side and touches just above his shoulders in soft waves. His facial structure is soft. Deep set brown angler eyes that call a fierce kitten to mind, a cute button nose, squishy cheeks and the plushiest lips that a man can have. 

As the youngest, they take no part in the family business. They act as the occasional messenger for the business but that is all. Their days are spent in the comfort of their homes helping their mother’s keep the space tidy or stealing a moment of time down at the lake for a quick dip. The market is a sure place to find the young duo, hands laced together as they stroll from stall to stall to inquire about goods.

Their life is theirs with a marriage proposal thrown in between that each young man has denied in turn. Their fathers’ find humor in their taste in partners while their mothers’ scold them for their rejections. They fear that the youngest of the families will reject the whole world and never settle down.

Yoongi and Jungkook care not for the idea of marriage just yet. So far all those who have shown interest, have made it known that their eyes are on the family business. Something that doesn’t sit well with either young man. Jungkook would like to pursue the arts, he is quite skilled with paints; Yoongi on the other side of the same coin would like to focus on music, he is fond of the piano and enjoys performing for his family and friends.  

#yoongi smut #yoongi fic #jaebeom fic #jeabeom smut #bts vampire au #got7 vampire au #yoongi x jaebeom #got7 x bts #kpop mxm #knock knock

[mooncact]

Beijo de bom dia (Im Jaebeom/JB e Jennie Kim)

capa colagem

créditos em caso de inspiração

abra para ver em melhor qualidade

Beijo de bom dia (link da fic no spirit)

#capa de fic #design #capa para social spirit #capa #edição #social spirit #capa para fanfic #capa simples #capa colagem #capa de fanfic #blackpink #jennie #jennie kim #got7 jayb #got7 jb #im jaebeom #jaebeom

[veethefreeelf]

JAY B Fic Recs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#lim jaebeom #lim jaebeom smut #lim jaebeom fluff #lim jaebeom angst #lim jaebeom fanfic #lim jaebeom fic recs #lim jaebeom fic rec #lim jaebeom fic #jay b smut #jay b fluff #jay b angst #jay b fic recs #jay b fanfic #fic recs #fanfic recs #got 7 fics #got7 fic recs #jb smut #jb fluff #jb angst

[nyoominmin]

Im Jaebeom fic recs

@k-imagine-s - Propmt // here

@ddaenghoney - Prompt // here

》 Fic rec masterlist

#im jaebeom #got7 #fic recs #oneshot #imagines #scenarios #im jaebeom oneshot #im jaebeom imagine #im jaebeom scenarios #fluff #comfort #kpop #got7 imagine #got7 oneshot #got7 scenarios

[daintydoie]

right where you left me

pairing: im jaebeom × park jinyoung (got7/jjp)

wc: 10.3k || 4/4 chapters

tags: post-break up, exes, friends to lovers, past relationship(s), flashbacks, fluff and angst

language: english

excerpt from chapter 1

The sun reaches its highest point on this chilly Saturday afternoon. Although there aren’t an overwhelming number of cars today, Jinyoung makes an effort to leave his house earlier than usual. He hasn’t seen his family in around 4 months due to his incredibly busy job, and him and his sisters made a bet on who could get to their parents’ house first. With an overnight bag in the passenger seat and his hands on the steering wheel, Jinyoung drives through the high rise buildings and billboards.

He reaches the main bridge that connects the city to the small towns in the countryside. It’s been a while since he passed this bridge, fewer cars here than he expected. After a couple more minutes, he sees his old hometown.

Although Jinyoung came to visit many times before, his hometown still gives off a timeless feel. The grass green and well kept, the simple rustic style of the houses, the neighbourhood children biking with their friends outside. It seemed like most of it stayed the same, minus the residents perhaps. Jinyoung drives past the other houses, as if he was in his school bus coming back home. He finds a house with a dark brown exterior and parks in front of it. Even though his parents are planning to have it repainted, he’ll miss the old brown wood color of their house. He takes his bag from the passenger seat and exits the car. The path leading to the door has small weeds, and his mother’s outdoor plants still look very much alive. He lifts his hand to ring the doorbell, but he hears someone opening the front door.

“The dishwasher has finally arrived!” His oldest sister, Minyoung, answers the door. Jinyoung looks at her, confused. While leaving his shoes near the doorway, he sees his other sister, Hwayoung, in the middle of eating lunch. “Huh? Since when did both of you get here?” “Half an hour ago.” Hwayoung answers while moving to the side and patting the seat next to her. “You guys left earlier, didn’t you?” He puts his bag down. “We left at noon, you’re just salty that you lost the bet!” Minyoung sticks her tongue at him while walking back to the dining table.

“Jinyoung, my son!” His mother gives him a warm hug and kisses his cheek. “I hope the dishes aren’t too much for you.” “Don’t worry mom, I’ll wash them all.” He side eyes his sisters, snickering while shoving kimchi rice in their mouths. “Jinyoung!” His dad calls him over. “Sit down and eat before Minyoung and Hwayoung finish it all.” Jinyoung hangs his coat and sits next to Hwayoung at the table. His mother hands him a bowl of kimchi stew and puts bulgogi on his plate. He takes a spoonful of the stew, still tastes the same even after so long, like the times he requested his mother to make it while he does his homework.

While he catches up with the rest of his family, they hear the doorbell ring. His mom stands up and goes to answer the door. “Oh, Mrs. Im!” The siblings look to the door. “Oh! I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” “No, don’t worry!” The rest of the family politely greet Mrs. Im. “Nice to know the kids came to visit. Um, could I ask for some extra ingredients? I’ll pay you back after today.” “Yes, of course! What do you need?” “Just some tofu. My son decided to surprise me with a visit today!”

Jinyoung suddenly stops eating. Jaebeom’s back? Why would he be back?

Minyoung and Hwayoung notice, and they look at their little brother worryingly. Hwayoung gently places her hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder to try and comfort him.

“Jaebeom? Isn’t he supposed to be in America?” “That’s what I thought too! When I saw him at the doorstep, I told him: What are you doing here?!” Mrs. Im laughs at her own story. “Turns out they gave him a week off, and he flew all the way here! He’s staying at some hotel but he dropped by earlier. He’ll come back here again since I’m preparing dinner for him.”

Jinyoung stands up from the table and goes to the fridge to look for tofu. He finds it and gives it to Mrs. Im. “Oh, thank you Jinyoung!” She takes it from him. “Wow! You look so mature! And so do Minyoung and Hwayoung!” She turns to his mother. “You raised such diligent adults.” His mother proudly smiles at her children. “Oh, Jinyoung! Jaebeom is just walking around in this area, do you want me to call him and tell him you’re here too?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to.” Jinyoung hesitates a bit with his answer. “I’ll just find him and surprise him myself.”

They wave Mrs. Im goodbye and return to the table. Minyoung and Hwayoung give each other a look, surprised with Jinyoung’s answer. They say nothing and continue eating, occasionally glancing at their brother.

continue reading!

#got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 jinyoung #jj project #got7 fic #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #read on ao3 #im jaebeom #im jaebum #park jinyoung #got7 fluff #got7 angst

[prds-jaebeom]

HI !

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

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

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

#fic recs #pls #help #begging #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts jimin #jimin angst #jimin fluff #jimin smut #bts taehyung #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #got7 jaebeom #jaebeom angst #jaebeom fluff #jaebeom smut #got7 jinyoung #jinyoung angst #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung smut #got7 jackson #jackson angst #jackson fluff #jackson smut #got7 scenarios