#jinyoung writings

[dyaz-stories]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader

summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.

word count: 3.1k

warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader

A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!

It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.

Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.

Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.

You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.

It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.

A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.

You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.

Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.

You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.

You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.

But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.

It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.

“What happened here?” he asks.

He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"

Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.

“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.

He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.

Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.

“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.

Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.

“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”

Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.

“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”

You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.

“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.

For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.

Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.

“Go,” he orders.

“But…”

He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.

“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”

There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—

“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”

Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.

“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”

“But they’re…”

You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”

He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.

There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.

“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.

He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.

“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Neither does he!

“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.

Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.

You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.

“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”

He sighs, shakes his head.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.

There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.

“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”

“There’s no need to—”

“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”

You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.

It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.

When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.

“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.

“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.

He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.

“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”

Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.

And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.

“Try not to move around too much, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.

“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”

He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.

“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.

“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”

“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, “I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”

You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.

“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”

“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”

“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”

You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.

“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.

“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.

“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”

“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.

“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.

“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”

You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.

His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.

“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”

Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.

Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.

“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.

“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.

“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”

The words almost send a shiver down your spine.

“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”

Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”

You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.

“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”

“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.

You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.

“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”

He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.

“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”

I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!

more writing for sweet home

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

got7 as supermarket cashiers:

jaebeom: glares at the customers if they distract him while working. is never at the checkout counter cause he has to do the manager's job as well

mark: works at his own pace and time. give discounts to customers if they have a cute pet

jackson: knows the names of all the regular customers. WILL nag them to take better care of themselves

jinyoung: gets pocket money from all the aunties and grandmothers that come to the store. rub's that in everyone's face.

youngjae: has headphones in his ears 24/7. gets nervous when he has to check out a long line

bambam: 'borrows' gum and makeup samples from the store. leaves the cash register open to bother yugyeom

yugyeom: cries once a week when customers (or jinyoung) yell at him for being slow

[justawritterwithideas]

never his type | park jinyoung

summary: a little inspiration from lee youngji's “small girl”. I've always known that I'm not the kind of girl Jinyoung would choose. I'm not delicate, I'm not reserved, I don't fit into his perfect world. Besides, he only sees me as his friend. So I decided to stop trying, to let him go and live without expecting anything from him, and for the first time, to look in another direction without expecting that he will look back at me. But why does it seem like every time I try to pull away, the more he tries to get closer? warnings: I haven't written an au in a long time, so there might be some poor writing, beyond that a lot of mixed feelings, fluff, jinyoung!coworker, AAAAAAAA I loved writing this. this story is a jinyoung x fem y/n, hope you like it. words: 8,316 words. (ohmy) a/n: it's been a while since I last wrote, but I was in a creative slump for a long time where I didn't like anything or had no motivation to write, but recently got7 made a comeback and I said 'why not?' also, I've noticed that there isn't much got7 content on tumblr, so I hope you like this one, I really enjoyed writing it and finding myself again. i want to remind you that English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes I hope you will forgive me :( thank u, TQM.

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“Baby, would you still love me?

Though I got a big laugh, big voice, and big personality

Would you guarantee?

‘Small Girl’, Lee Young Ji.

They say that love is not forced, that if you have to beg for someone's attention, then it's not worth it. But no one tells you what to do when your heart is stubborn, when it insists on beating harder for someone who barely notices you.

I knew it from the beginning.

Jinyoung would never look at me the way I looked at him.

Because I'm not his type.

I'm not the discreet, elegant girl he usually likes, and that's okay.

Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself while I change the name of his contact on my phone and promise myself, once again, that this time I'm going to get over it.

But of course, saying I'm going to get over him is easy. The problem is actually doing it.

Because even if I delete our pictures together, even if I promise myself that this is the last time I let it affect me, the next day I'm still in the same place. Sitting in the usual coffee shop, surrounded by the same people, with Jinyoung on the other side of the table, laughing at something one of our co-workers said.

And, by inertia, my eyes search for him.

Memorize him.

His laugh, the way his eyes close a little when he's really enjoying himself, how he runs a hand through his hair when he's concentrating.

Little habits that I shouldn't notice, that shouldn't matter, but are engraved in me.

I take a deep breath. No more.

I'm going to forget you.

I'm going to stop liking you.

Because yes, today will be different.

Today, for the first time, I won't wait for you to look back at me.

Today, I will finally stop liking Park Jinyoung.

That's a promise.

But to be honest, I don't know exactly when or how I started to like Jinyoung, I think one day happened and that's it, there was no turning back.

Although I do remember the first time we met.

I think it was April, or maybe May, or something like that, a month where flowers were beginning to appear on the trees along with the first signs of the return of the warm sun in Seoul.

It had been a busy few weeks, probably the busiest I'd had since coming to this place. Work had multiplied after my partner's maternity leave, so all her work was now mine as well and it was starting to pile up next to the work I had accumulated for weeks on my desk.

I remember that my blouse was bothering me and my pants were not warm enough for the cold office, which was hiding from the sun's rays. In desperation because of the cold, I decided to escape from my pile of earrings to get some sun on the terrace, knowing that I might get a scolding.

But at that moment, I didn't care; I wasn't going to let someone else catch a cold when spring was in full bloom.

As I waited for the elevator, intending to escape in it, the metal doors opened revealing my boss accompanied by someone else. I felt that karma was playing against me for my actions, but at that instant my mind was not for worries.

In fact, his attention was on the young man in front of me and how I had suddenly forgotten how to breathe, leaving the air trapped in my lungs. His black suit perfectly marked his figure, his glasses, always sliding down the bridge of his nose, gave him an added charm, and his lotion....

God, his lotion was almost as mesmerizing as his gaze.

“Miss Kim, how nice to find you around.”

My supervisor's voice snapped me out of the trance that was beginning to cloud my mind.

“I want to introduce you to Mr. Park, Park Jinyoung, he will be your new partner until Miss Yun returns from leave.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kim.”

I don't know how long I stared at Jinyoung, but it was probably my flushed face and the awkwardness of my response that caused him to laugh.

From that day on, we became inseparable.

In my eyes, he was the spitting image of a prince out of a fairy tale. From head to toe, he looked like the perfect man. But it wasn't just his looks that captivated me, it was the way he was that made me fall more in love with him every day.

I loved that every morning he would greet me and talk to me until our workday began. That, throughout the day, he would give me little treats to keep me energized. That he would accompany me to lunch, even if he had already finished his lunch break. That he would wait for me in the elevator so that we could go to the bus stop together and that, without saying so, he would let a few buses go by just so he could stay a little longer by my side.

But to be honest... was there anything I didn't like about Jinyoung?

Ah, yes.

There was something.

I didn't like that I wasn't his type.

One day, as I was on my way to deliver some papers to Marketing, I saw Jinyoung and a couple of friends sitting around having a coffee. My feet were hurrying towards them to greet them but my brain slowed them down, hearing the question Jaebeom had asked the brunette before they could see me coming.

“What about you Jinyoung, what kind of girls do you like?”

My heart began to beat fast, almost as if I had run a full marathon without stopping. Like a coward, I hid behind a pillar while I listened to their conversation.

Yes, it was disrespectful of me to listen to someone else's conversation, but I couldn't move. I didn't know if it was my body or my heart that had decided to leave me there, listening to the dialogue between them.

“Well, I don't have an exact type.”

I breathed again.

“Don't lie, I know you have one” A second voice spoke.

My eyes caught the silhouette of BamBam, who was playfully slapping his hyung.

“Don't be shy, Jinyoungie. Tell us, we are friends.”

It seemed that the pressure caused by the pair had made Jinyoung succumb to their question, who was starting to rub the back of his neck before answering them.

“Okay, okay... Well, I like girls shorter than me, I don't really have a preference in hair color but I think blondes look good, they look pretty. Maybe that they're discreet, elegant, that I feel like I can introduce her to my parents without fear that they might reject her, that they don't talk or laugh too much, I don't know! Right, that's enough.”

Shit.

My body froze.

Suddenly, I could feel the coffee I had drunk in the morning getting stuck in my throat, unable to move from my spot.

I stood there, my fingers clenching tightly around the papers I was supposed to deliver, as if to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.

Discreet. Elegant. Pleasing in the eyes of her parents.

Definitely, of all the things the man had named.

None of those things were me.

I let out a low sigh and closed my eyes for a second, forcing myself to compose myself. It wasn't like he expected to hear my description on his list, but I wasn't amused to feel so out of it either. Like the possibility didn't even exist.

Nothing on that silly list defined me. If anything really characterized me, it was my outrageous laugh, my sarcastic comments that left more than one person speechless, and my absolute inability to keep quiet when something bothered me. Not to mention, of course, my ridiculous height, which used to surprise anyone upon seeing me for the first time.

And elegant? Well... tripping over my own feet and spouting curses at the worst moment definitely didn't fall into that category.

I pursed my lips and glanced sideways again.

Jinyoung was smiling with the confidence of someone who thought he was pretty clear on what he wanted. But if he was so sure, why did he feel the need to justify himself so much?

I forced myself to let go of the papers in my hands and smooth them out with my fingers, playing with the edge of them. It was then that a small smile appeared on my lips.

“Of all the things you mentioned, Jinyoung, none of them fit me,” I thought, feeling a spark of amusement mixed with something else, something I didn't want to admit. “It's almost like I'm exactly the kind of girl that terrifies you.”

I bit my lip, fighting the temptation to laugh. But not a happy laugh, but the kind that sounded more like a resigned sigh.

“Oh, noona!”

A shiver ran through my body when I heard BamBam's voice calling me. As best I could, I recomposed the expression on my face and turned around, looking at the trio in front of me.

“Mhm? Oh, guys, what's wrong?”

“What are you doing here, is something wrong?”

Quick. Make something up.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to check with you guys to see if you knew if Seojun was at his desk, I was asked to deliver some papers to him before he went out to lunch.”

“I'm not sure, in fact I think he already went out, but we can-”

“You're bleeding.”

Jinyoung's voice brought me back to earth, feeling his hands wrap around mine and watching as blood gushed out and stained the papers.

“Let me tend to you, let's go get something to nurse-”

“Don't worry, Jinyoung. I'll go to the bathroom and then I'm going to redo these papers.”

“But it's almost time to eat and your finger...”

“Don't worry, I'll stop by today from lunch, I have to deliver this urgently, don't worry. Excuse me.”

As best I could, I bowed and slipped out of there.

That day was the beginning of something I didn't know how to stop.

After that, I started to distance myself. At first, it was just small, almost imperceptible details. I avoided spending too much time in the same spaces as him, I let conversations with the group flow without looking for his gaze, and I even forced myself not to react when he said something that would normally make me respond in search of some reaction from him. It wasn't difficult, at least at first. I kept telling myself that it was for the best, that there was no point in holding on to something that clearly had no place in his world.

But Jinyoung... he didn't make it easy.

Every time I thought I had found a balance, something about him would push me back. A genuine concern, a warmer-than-normal smile, the way he always seemed to notice when something was bothering me before others did. Details that shouldn't mean that much, but to my misfortune, they did.

And so, while I tried to pull away, he kept tugging at an invisible string that tied me to his orbit, even without realizing it.

Until one day I looked at my reflection and understood that my heart was not only frayed...but that every show of affection from him was making it break a little more.

“Noona, are you okay?”

BamBam's voice snapped me out of my trance. I blinked several times, snapping back to the present. We were in a coffee shop with the team, the murmur of conversations and the sound of cups clinking against plates filled the atmosphere. I hadn't even realized I had stopped listening.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah... I was just thinking about a few things.”

Jinyoung looked at me from across the table. It seemed that my disconnection to the atmosphere had caused him some strangeness, trying to tell me something through his gaze, something I couldn't quite make out.

I removed myself in my seat, uncomfortable.

“Wow, she looked so serious I thought she was planning world domination or something” Youngjae joked, making me let out a forced laugh.

I forced myself to pick up my glass and take a sip. I didn't want them to notice anything weird. I didn't want him to notice something was wrong.

But I knew it wouldn't be long before he did. Because Jinyoung always noticed those things.

And that was just the problem.

My phone vibrated in my bag, causing me to rummage through my things before I saw the screen.

Jinyoung: hey, u okay?

My eyes searched for him, catching him in the way he was watching me from across the table, almost crossing me. A subtle smile, almost impossible to discover whether it was a lie or not, came across my face, accompanying a soft nod of my head.

               Me: yeah, don't worry! :)

I went back to watching him, trying to connect with the conversation the group was carrying so that I could look interested and laugh at whatever they were talking about, unconcerned with the man in the other corner.

It seemed to have been a success when he reconnected to the flow of the others.

When the coffee had cooled and everyone looked pretty interested in leaving, the conversation was over, and being honest I don't even remember 80% of what we had talked about that night. Gradually the goodbyes began to be heard, as well as the sound of cars leaving the place.

To my misfortune, not having a car tied me to public transportation, occupying an app or asking others if they could get me as close to home as possible.

“Are you leaving already?”

My heart gave a slight flip when I heard his voice, but my mind forcefully suppressed it. I turned to meet Jinyoung, who had stopped beside me with his hands in his pockets and that calm expression that always seemed so natural on him.

“Something like that,” I replied lightly, glancing at my cell phone screen again. “I'm seeing if an Uber or taking the bus is more feasible.”

“Don't worry, I'll get you closer to your hou-”

“Oppa!”

Our conversation was interrupted by a third party, causing all attention to focus on the newcomer.

Jia, Choi Jia.

Remember the list of things Jinyoung had said earlier about his ideal girl? Well, somehow, everything about her fit perfectly with the description the boy had given that day.

Short, elegant, discreet. Her long blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, and her sweet smile seemed designed to win over any strict mother. She was the kind of girl who didn't raise her voice any louder than necessary, who always knew how to behave at the right moment.

In other words, his ideal type.

And, of course, she knew it.

I barely turned around to see her approaching with a beaming smile, holding Jinyoung's arm with familiarity.

“Let's go together! Our house is in the same direction, remember?”

A knot formed in my stomach before I could help it.

Of course, how had I forgotten?

Jia and Jinyoung lived in the same area.

It was almost as if fate was playing all its cards so that our paths wouldn't come together in any way.

He blinked, confused, as if he had just remembered that detail. “Oh... right.”

“It's perfect,” she continued, not letting go of his arm. “That way you don't have to take a detour.”

Jinyoung hesitated for a second and his gaze rested on me, as if he was still considering his original offer.

But I saw it in his eyes... he wasn't going to say no to Jia.

And I had no intention of just standing there waiting for him to do so.

“It's okay, don't worry, Jinyoung,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “I'll take the bus, it's fine.”

“But-”

“Noona!”

Another voice interrupted me before Jinyoung could continue speaking. BamBam approached with the phone in his hand and an excited expression.

“Where are you going now, noona?”

“I'm going to catch the bus.”

“No noona! A friend is coming to pick me up and he can bring you closer to your house too, he's in the same direction where we're going. He has no problem with you joining us on our journey.”

I inwardly thanked him for his sudden intervention and nodded quickly. “Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience anyone.”

“Trust me, you won't.” He said with a mischievous grin. “Besides, it sure will do him good to meet more people.”

Just then, and almost falling from the sky, the lights of a black car illuminated part of the parking lot as it pulled up in front of us.

“There he is,” BamBam announced, raising his hand in greeting.

The driver's door opened, and out stepped a tall boy with somewhat tousled dark hair and a calm but attentive expression. His sharp features were accentuated by the dim street lighting, and the way he moved, with a natural, effortless confidence, made him instantly catch the eye.

BamBam smiled proudly before making introductions.

“Hyung, hey!”

Jinyoung, who was still beside me, straightened his shoulders slightly. Jia tilted her head curiously and I just stood static, watching the man arriving to join us.

“This is Mark.” The boy greeted everyone with a simple nod, trying to decipher our names. “Hyung, this is Jia, Jinyoung hyung and my noona, that's who we'll be taking today, our new traveling companion.”

“Bam's famous noona, it's a relief to finally give her a face.” A smile broke out on my face as he finished speaking, thanking the heavens that the subject had suddenly changed his direction.

“I hope he spoke only wonders about me.”

“Oh, of course he did. In fact, I don't think he was able to shut up after I asked him.”

Mark's laughter was catching in the air, causing me to laugh along with him as well. But despite that instant of grace, I could feel Jinyoung's steady gaze burn into my back.

“Don't talk about me like I'm not here! Hyung, noona!”

As if by magic, I felt again that there were people around us, forgetting the feelings that were wrapping around me a couple of minutes ago.

“If you're going to keep laughing at me like that, then we'd better leave, I don't want to be humiliated by you guys anymore!”

I shook my head in amusement as I watched him get into the car, turning my gaze back to Jinyoung and his new co-driver.

“It was nice meeting you guys, I hope we can meet more often.”

Mark's voice broke the silence, echoing softly in the air before he bowed goodbye and got into the car.

Just then, my eyes met Jinyoung's, and my heart raced without warning. I didn't understand why I felt this way so suddenly, but in his gaze there was something... something he was trying to tell me, just like in the cafeteria a couple of minutes ago.

“Well... Get home safely. See you Monday.”

I raised my hand in a farewell gesture before turning to get into the car. But, at that precise moment, a gentle tug on my clothes made me stop.

To my surprise, Jinyoung was holding me. His face reflected an urgency that unsettled me. His lips, as red as an apple, seemed to have been bitten just a few seconds ago. His eyes roamed my face with intensity, as if desperately searching for an answer in it, as if what he wanted to tell me was trapped between us.

With a thread of a voice, I barely managed to ask, “What's wrong, Pepi?”

He opened his mouth, his tongue was pressing against the inside of his cheek, as if the words were on the tip, ready to come out. But they didn't. His grip on my clothes became firmer, as if he was trying to keep me from leaving without hearing what he had to tell me.

But in the end... nothing.

I felt his grip loosen until his hand fell to his side.

“It's nothing, sorry.”

My chest tightened with inexplicable frustration.

“Oh... it's okay.”

A wave of disappointment washed over me from head to toe. I wanted him to speak, to let out those words I was holding back. That he would give me a reason to stay a few seconds longer. But he didn't.

So I just sighed and mumbled a goodbye, before finally getting into the car.

The goodbye had been brief, but the weight of what was left unsaid hung in the air.

The car started up, gliding nimbly between the streets. From the back seat, I watched the city lights fleetingly flash past the window, as Mark and BamBam's voice mingled in distant conversation.

“Noona, how far are we from your house?”

BamBam's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked a couple of times before leaning in slightly to look at him.

“Ah... Not much, about ten more minutes.”

I tried to sound natural, but my mind was still trapped in the instant I had shared with Jinyoung. Or rather, in what we did not share. Something inside me told me that he had wanted to talk, that he had been on the verge of doing so, but something stopped him.

Was it fear, was it doubt, or was he just not as important as I thought he was?

Mark seemed focused on the road, his face serene, but BamBam was watching me with a curious glint in his eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a lopsided smile, as if he knew exactly what was going through my mind.

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I forced a smile.

“Yeah, I'm just tired.”

BamBam let out a slight sigh and shrugged. “If you say so, noona.”

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the murmur of the radio and the occasional conversation between the two of them. For my part, I watched the lights of the city go by, turning the matter over again and wondering what would have happened if Jinyoung had spoken.

Soon after, I could see the cluster of buildings where my home was. The car came to a complete stop and that's when I just opened the door to get out of the car.

“Thank you so much for approaching me, Mark.”

“No problem, besides you were just passing by.”

“Good night, guys. Thanks again.”

Setting my feet on solid ground, I waved goodbye to them one more time before turning around. However, like déjà vu, something once again got in my way, preventing me from moving forward.

“Noona.”

My stride stopped and I turned to look at him.

“If you want to talk about whatever happened back there...you know where to find me.”

His words were playful, but there was something genuine in his tone. I was silent for a moment before smiling sincerely.

“I know, thank you, Bam.”

The next thing I heard was the car start up and drive off into the darkness of the night, as I headed for my apartment.

As soon as I closed the door behind me, I let out a long, tired sigh. I leaned against the wood and closed my eyes, letting all the oxygen in my body go out of my mouth.

It seemed like all my attempts to get away from Jinyoung wanted to be put on pause, almost as if fate finally wanted to give me some of what I prayed so hard for before I went to sleep.

But I couldn't give in to the slightest bit of attention he was giving me, I had to be strong enough to be able to overcome these feelings that were blossoming more and more in me.

I had promised.

I had promised myself.

Be that as it may.

I'm going to stop liking you, Jinyoung.

Despite all my attempts to forget what happened on Friday and turn the page, I had spent the whole weekend with my mind trapped in that moment with Jinyoung.

I relived the scene over and over again, searching in his gaze, in his body language, in every little gesture, for some clue as to what he really wanted to tell me.

But after so much thought, I came to the conclusion that if he didn't say it, maybe it wasn't as important as I thought.

Maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. Maybe, at the last second, he realized that what he wanted to tell me wasn't worth it. Or worse, maybe there was never anything to say.

So I decided to dismiss it. There was no point in going on and on about it and gnawing at my head.

By the time Monday came around, I had buried the issue in the back of my mind, focusing on what really mattered: work.

It is clear that Mondays are always the worst day of the week, but it seemed that today was set to be the worst of all. Apparently all the meetings had been scheduled for that day.

I had barely seen the shadow of Jinyoung's silhouette all day, he had been going up and down the elevator loaded with papers, at the same time that I was moving from one room to another to have all the meetings that could exist in the world.

We didn't cross a single word all day.

There were no morning greetings, no pauses for conversation, no little sweets left on my desk.

And though I repeated to myself that I needn't have minded, a part of me couldn't help but notice.

Between all the work and the small but possible breaks there were to rest, it suddenly got dark and again I was at the entrance of the building, seeing if it was more economical to order an Uber or walk to wait for the bus.

“Are you waiting for the prices to go down?”

Jinyoung's voice interrupted my internal debate, lifting my gaze from the screen and observing the brown-haired man. I couldn't help but scan him, he was wearing a casual outfit but one that didn't lose that hint of elegance he always used to have, he looked perfect.

“Something like that, but I don't think it's going to happen.” I shrugged my shoulders before I could stow the phone in my bag, watching him once again.

“Let's go together.”

His sudden proposal caught me off guard, feeling the pounding of my heart echoing in my chest. A soft blush settled on my cheeks, noticing how Jinyoung gave me one of those smiles that generated butterflies in my stomach.

But before I could say anything, a familiar voice interrupted that scene.

“Ah, noona!”

An elated BamBam appeared in front of us, who looked like he had run so he could meet us.

“We were looking for you.”

“We?”

As soon as that question escaped my mouth, Mark appeared at the side of the young man, who gave him a small pat on the back before looking at me.

“We're going in the same direction as last time. If you want, we can take you again.”

My gaze shifted from BamBam to Mark, and then to Jinyoung.

For the first time that day, he seemed at a loss for words.

His expression tensed for a brief moment before he regained his neutral gesture, as if the interruption didn't affect him in the least.

“Oh guys, excuse me but-”

“You guys go ahead. I'll take the bus. Actually, I have to go somewhere else, I'm meeting someone.”

The echo of Jinyoung's voice made me turn around, noticing how suddenly his expression had changed just like his previous proposition, once again.

His tone was calm, almost indifferent.

But something about the way he averted his gaze and how quickly he ended the conversation made me feel a small twinge in my chest.

Before I could say anything, he had already turned and was walking away down the street with his hands in his pockets.

Mark and BamBam were silent for a few seconds, exchanging quick glances with each other before looking back at me.

They knew something had happened, but neither asked.

“Shall we go, noona?” said BamBam finally, in his usually nonchalant tone, as if he hadn't just noticed how strange the whole exchange had been.

My gaze didn't leave Jinyoung's backpack until it disappeared around the corner, feeling again like there was something he had wanted to say but ended up vanishing into thin air.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The rest of the week went along pretty much the same way.

Whenever it seemed that Jinyoung was going to approach me to tell me something, BamBam and Mark would appear out of nowhere with their usual:

Noona, come on, we'll give you a ride.

At first, I didn't think anything of it.

It was a nice gesture on their part and actually saved me from taking public transportation.

But after the third, the fourth, the fifth time... I started to notice it.

And I wasn't the only one.

Every time it happened, Jinyoung would clench his jaw for barely a second before immediately relaxing, as if reminding himself not to react.

Every time BamBam would appear with his carefree smile, I would watch out of the corner of my eye as Jinyoung would avert his gaze, pretending that it didn't bother him at all.

Whenever Mark would make a simple nod of his head to signal me to leave, Jinyoung would clench his fists slightly, as if he was holding something back.

But he never said anything.

He never complained.

He never tried to avoid it.

And yet, that restrained annoyance was becoming more and more apparent.

Mark and BamBam began to notice it too.

Their gazes became more curious every time Jinyoung and I crossed paths.

More analytical when Jinyoung feigned indifference.

More amused when it seemed that, for a second, he was about to say something... only to stop and carry on as if nothing had happened.

And I, for one, began to wonder how much longer he could keep holding back before he finally snapped.

Finally it was Friday, and as had become customary, I waited at the entrance for my trusted drivers, they didn't usually take much longer than 10 minutes to show up.

As I waited, I could tell that I was no longer alone, but that there was a second presence beside me.

“Shall I keep you company?”

My face turned the instant I saw Jinyoung next to me, noticing how he was arranging his glasses on the bridge of his nose. A smile broke out on my face, nodding softly at his offer.

“Will you go with them again?”

I nodded once more, watching his face turn that relaxation into tension as he confirmed what it seemed he didn't want to hear.

“It's a nice gesture on them to approach me, plus I save some money that way.”

Jinyoung let out a small laugh, but it didn't sound genuine. Rather, it sounded like he was trying to downplay something he didn't particularly enjoy.

“Yeah, right... a nice gesture.”

He didn't say anything else, just looked down and gently kicked the ground with the toe of his shoe.

A small silence formed between us.

It wasn't awkward, but there was something about his posture, the way his jaw tensed and his hands remained inside his coat pockets, that made me think he was holding back from saying something else.

But before I could break the silence that had formed, the vibration of my phone interrupted us.

               Bam: Noona, sorry but we're going to be a little late.

My brow furrowed, trying to figure out what was going on with the little context that message had delivered.

A second notification came through.

               Bam: Mark is stuck in traffic and I'm having a tummy crisis.

               Bam: I didn't have to eat that much kimchi for lunch.

               Bam: Go ahead noona, don't wait for us.

I quickly answered that message to stop worrying them and put the cell phone back in its place, letting out a soft sigh.

“Looks like my attempt to save ends today.”

“And that?”

I turned and looked at the man, who was looking at me as he arranged his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Mark and Bam won't be able to take me today” I let out a small chuckle before noticing Jinyoung's face relax. “I'll start walking or I'll miss the bus.”

My feet stomped to the stop, but it seemed the echo of my footsteps weren't the only thing I heard.

“I can give you a ride if you like!”

 My footsteps paused for a moment. I wasn't sure if I had heard correctly or if my mind was playing a joke on me. I turned to him with a slight nod.

“Huh?”

Jinyoung cleared his throat, as if he himself was surprised by his own offer. He settled his glasses on the bridge of his nose and repeated more firmly.

“That I can give you a ride if you like.”

“Since when do you have a car?” A smile tugged at my lips, noticing how the man moved closer.

“Since Jackson stopped borrowing mine and decided to buy one.”

“He finally has his own car, good for him” We both shared a laugh, feeling how we were back to feeling as comfortable as before. “I was already pretty sure he was going to end up buying your car from you.”

“Thank heavens no, so I can now offer you a ride.”

Again that look.

That look that wanted to say everything but at the same time his mouth said nothing, with that gleam that illuminated his pretty eyes, and how not to forget those pink lips-.

Stop it, stop thinking about it.

My head shook, pushing away those thoughts that, once again, invaded my head again. I relaminated my lips before regaining my composure, watching Jinyoung, who seemed quite interested in my sudden action.

“So, shall we go?”

I hesitated for a second.

Would this really do me any good?

There was no answer to that but if I wanted to get over it, this was the way to do it, putting myself to the test one last time.

“Yeah, come on.”

We both shared a smile before we could walk to the car.

The drive began with a quietness that didn't feel uncomfortable. Jinyoung drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the window, while I absentmindedly looked out of mine, feeling the warmth of the sunset tint the city in orange hues.

“If you want, you can play music,” he said suddenly, without taking his eyes off the road.

“Are you sure you trust my playlist?” I joked, grabbing his phone that already had the music app open.

“If it's still this chaotic, probably not.”

I let out a laugh as I started to slide through his playlists.

“Do you actually still have this playlist?” I asked, surprised to see one in particular.

“Which one?”

“The one we made together when we first started working together, with the most ridiculous songs we could find.”

Jinyoung laughed low, shaking his head.

“I didn't have the heart to erase it.”

“Oh, come on, Jinyoung. Tell the truth,” I lightly nudged his arm ‘you love listening to ABBA when you're alone in the car.’

“If you keep that comment up, I'll drop you off at the next corner.”

We both broke into laughter, feeling that distance that had appeared between us over the past few days begin to fade.

It felt right.

It felt... natural.

As the music played softly in the background, we continued to chat, picking up old jokes and creating new ones in the process, almost feeling like the distance that had been generated had brought us closer, where we were once again the same people who would scold each other for not stopping talking after a meeting.

At some point in the conversation, our best memories began to surface, feeling my stomach ache with every laugh we let out.

“It wasn't my fault!” Jinyoung protested with laughter.

“What do you mean it wasn't your fault! You left me stuck in the meeting room because you 'thought I was already gone'!”

“I did it under pressure.”

“Pressure from what?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Pressure from wanting to leave quickly before I got caught in another meeting.”

I let out another laugh, gently punching his arm. I could see how the traffic light had changed to red, giving us a break from the laughter we had been sharing since we got in the car.

Jinyoung ran a hand through his hair, blurting out a sentence that chilled me to the bone.

“I missed this, I missed you.”

The sound of cars passing around us seemed to fade for a moment. My breath caught in my chest as my mind processed his words.

I missed this, I missed you.

It was not an elaborate confession, not a speech full of carefully chosen words. It was simple, sincere and, above all, unexpected.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye, watching his fingers drum softly on the steering wheel, a nervous gesture I rarely saw from him. His eyes were fixed on the red light of the traffic light, but the tension in his jaw gave away that he was waiting for an answer.

No, he was begging for an answer.

I couldn't lie to my own feelings, so I was honest with him.

“Me too” I whispered, almost without realizing it.

Jinyoung turned his face slowly toward me, as if he wasn't sure he had heard right. My gaze met his, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel the need to look away.

The traffic light changed to green, but neither of us reacted immediately. A car horn behind us broke the moment, bringing us back to reality.

Jinyoung cleared his throat slightly before tightening his grip on the steering wheel and continuing to drive.

The silence between us was no longer awkward, but charged with something else. Something that hovered in the air, making me feel more aware of his presence, of the accelerated heartbeat in my chest, of how my skin bristled every time our arms accidentally brushed.

The rest of the trip was calmer, sharing different opinions of events that had happened in the office, almost as if we were both trying to avoid the recent confession we had had.

Sooner or later we had arrived at the apartment complex. My eyes averted their gaze from the large buildings to Jinyoung, who was watching me uneasily.

“Thanks for the ride, Pepi.” A new smile broke out on my face, fixing me as he shared his with me as well.

“No problem, it's no trouble.”

“Be careful coming back, okay?”

Before I could leave, I felt my hands itch, almost needing to do something else. Hesitant to do so, I simply let my instinct decide for me.

I leaned in slightly and deposited a kiss on his cheek, barely a brush, but just enough to feel the warmth of his skin against my lips.

Jinyoung seemed to freeze, as if trying to process what had just happened. I didn't wait to see his reaction. I turned quickly and got out of the car, feeling my heart hammering in my chest.

As soon as the cool night air enveloped me, I realized something.

I wasn't going to move forward like this.

If I kept hiding behind small, contained displays of affection, half-hearted moments and unspoken words, I would never get out of this emotional tangle.

“Agh, what a fool.” I muttered to myself, keeping my pace steady down that path.

I took a breath of air, clenching my fists. I couldn't go on at this in-between point. I was determined.

As I was about to take the first step away from there, ready to stop fantasizing about something that was never going to happen, his voice reached me.

“Wait! Y/N!”

Jinyoung didn't shout often, and the fact that he did so now took me by surprise. I turned instinctively, and before I could react, he was already in front of me, breathing in agitation from catching up to me so quickly.

“Jinyoung... What are you doing, why are you here?”

“Are you still going with them?”

His question surprised me a little.

Had he run that far to ask me that?

“What? What do you mean?”

“If Mark and Bambam keep telling you to go with them, will you?”

I stared at him, sensing that his question had a second meaning. I didn't mean it because of the way he said it or the context, but because, for the first time, his eyes were watching me and telling me what they had hidden so much, what caused that special gleam in them.

“I-I, uhm, I don't know, I think-”

“You don't have to go with them. Let's go together.”

His voice sounded firm, but there was something else in his tone: a silent plea, a truth that had been holding back too long.

I stood still, feeling my chest shrink with unexpected warmth. My mouth felt dry and all the words I had thought of at that moment had vanished, feeling lost in the intense gaze Jinyoung held.

“I don't want to keep watching you walk away” He whispered, with the intensity of one who has held on to something too long. “I don't want to keep walking behind you, waiting for you to turn around. I want you to stay. With me.”

The world seemed to stop.

I don't know if it was the way he said it, with that perfect mix of sweetness and conviction, or the way his gaze held me so securely, but I felt my heart stop for a second only to then beat harder.

Jinyoung didn't speak without thinking. And if he said something like that... it was because he really meant it.

“What are you talking about, Jinyoung? W-what? What about Jia?”

As soon as I mentioned the girl's name, it seemed that suddenly his face turned into confusion.

“What does she have to do with it?”

“Please Pepi, it's obvious. She's...”

I struggled to keep my gaze on his, feeling I wasn't strong enough to tell him, to admit what was obvious.

“She's everything you want. From head to toe she's your ideal girl, Jinyoung.”

He took a step forward, eliminating any space between us. My breath hitched as he brought his hand to my face, with the softness of someone who feared he might vanish at any moment. Our gazes reconnected almost instantly, leaving my heart rate to rise again.

“It's not, of course not.”

“Please don't deny it to make me feel better, I heard you.”

My teeth caught my bottom lip, holding back the urge to cry that was starting to grow in my body as I remembered that instant.

“I heard you that time, when Jaebeom asked you what your ideal type of girl was. You described her perfectly, out of your whole list of things, Jia was the spitting image.”

A laugh escaped the boy's lips, feeling that what he had just heard was the funniest thing anyone could have said to him.

“No, it's not true.”

Before I could respond anything, feeling offended at the uncharacteristic way he had called me a liar, he continued speaking.

“She was never my type.”

Jinyoung brought one of his hands to the back of his neck, ruffling his hair a little, as if gathering all the courage he had to finally let out everything he was holding back.

“I made up that list” He finally admitted, his voice laden with a mixture of frustration and something deeper. “Not because Jia was my type... but because if I said what I really liked, Jaebeom and BamBam would have noticed instantly.”

My eyes widened even more, hearing the loud gallop of my heart in my ears. My lips parted in shock.

“Realized? Realized what?”

His eyes bore into mine, serious and vulnerable at the same time.

“That the only person who fit my true description perfectly...was you.”

The air seemed to rush out of my lungs all at once.

“Do you know how many times I was asked that? How many times I wanted to say it?” He moistened his lips and shook his head softly. “But I couldn't. I didn't want them to know before you did...before I had the courage to tell you myself.”

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

“But when they asked me that time...I panicked. I wasn't ready to admit it out loud, not in front of them, not when I didn't even know what you felt. So I made up a list. One different enough that no one would suspect... but generic enough that no one would ask any more questions.”

The truth of his words fell on me like a sure blow. Everything I had taken for granted, everything I had interpreted as fact, crumbled in the face of the confession Jinyoung was regaling me with.

And worst of all... I believed it.

Because there he stood, with his heart fully exposed, with those eyes that had never been as honest as they were in that instant.

“You were never part of my list, because if I said it out loud...everyone would have known it was always you.”

After his confession, the loud sound of my heartbeat and his erratic breathing was all that could be heard at that moment.

“It was always you ever since I met you, ever since I saw you in the elevator. The one that made my heart beat so hard it made me dizzy, the one that made me want to get to work early because then I could start my day seeing you, that made me repeat lunch...” He paused a little before he could smile sincerely, looking at me once more. “The one that made me leave my car at home just so I could walk her to the stop and have a little more time to talk.”

Small tears slid down my cheeks, the way the sincerity of his words had managed to not only alter my heart, but had also broken down every barrier I had built around him.

Jinyoung raised his hand cautiously, watching my face with concern at the sudden tears that were beginning to well up.

“What, why are you crying, did I say something wrong?”

I shook my head softly, trying to hide my own sobs between giggles, feeling a weight lift off my back.

“No, Jinyoungie... It was perfect.”

There was no sign or anything specific, we just knew.

Jinyoung tilted his face slightly, and the instant our breaths intertwined, I knew there was no turning back.

Our lips met in a desired kiss that seemed like it would never happen, as if we were both tasting the sensation, making sure this wasn't a dream. But instantly, the need to be closer enveloped us like an unstoppable current.

The feel of his hands around my waist was firm, seeking not to separate me from him until he decided for himself. A shiver ran down my back as the sweet taste of his breath mingled with mine, and I found myself losing myself in the sensation, in the warmth, in the fact that after all, he had always been there.

Slowly we parted, letting our breaths mingle and our foreheads meet, resting after that whirlwind of feelings we had just unleashed.

Jinyoung smiled, that soft, shy smile that always managed to make me forget everything else.

“Ewww, get a room!”

BamBam's familiar voice made us all jump out of the way, as if we'd been caught doing something forbidden. I felt my cheeks burn as I turned my head and was met with the most embarrassing scene possible: BamBam laughing uproariously, Mark leaning against the car with a knowing half-smile, and Jaebeom with his arms crossed, nodding approvingly.

“How did they...?” I asked in the direction of Jinyoung, who looked even more embarrassed than they did as he cheered us on.

“It's about time, were they planning to keep up that tension until retirement?” Mark's striking voice was next to interrupt the silence, who was fist-bumping with Jaebeom. “You owe me 20,000, Bam.”

“God! Hyung, really, just now? You ruin the moment.”

Instinctively, we both burst into laughter, feeling the tension and embarrassment completely melt away after that moment. Our gazes met once more, and as if the whole world came down to this instant, we kissed again and again under the cover of night.

I always thought I would never be the kind of girl that men liked.

Maybe it was because of my indelicate way of saying things or my innate ability to blurt out the worst comments at the wrong time. Maybe it was also due to my height, which used to surprise many, or the bland color of my hair, which didn't stand out at all.

But that night, as I felt Jinyoung's arms around me gently, his warm breath brushing against my skin and his gaze fixed on me as if I was the only thing that existed, I understood that everything I once thought about myself was meaningless.

Because for him, I was enough.

To him, my outrageous laugh, my sharp sarcasm, and my total inability to keep quiet when something bothered me were not flaws, but part of what he loved about me.

And as his lips met mine again, I knew I didn't need to be anyone else's ideal guy.

Because I was already his.

And that was more than enough.

lots of love, alme ୨ৎ

[slowd1ving]

Hello !! Do I ask for a Jinyoung Park x husband reader ? please fluff and one shot

NOSTOS . ⁺ JINYOUNG PARK

nostos: defined by homecoming, as after a long journey Gone are the days of an empty stomach and the taste of blood on your tongue. Tonight, your biggest worry consists only of explaining the ball of fur (wedged damply under your raincoat) to your oh-so-beloved husband. anon this is my first married fic ever so I hope this is decent enough fr pairings: jinyoung park + husband reader warnings: none! (literally my only one with zero warnings) wc: 1.1k

LOOKISM MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Forgive me. Two words repeated themselves like pious mantras while you trudged up the stairs. The rubber of your soles colliding rhythmically against the linoleum of each step sounded comforting, unlike the frivolous allegro of your heartbeat. Residue rainwater left miserly puddles in your wake, and you felt guilty for the soft-spoken janitor who’d tend to the mud tracked into the flooring. 

Forgive me. For what? There were a million mellifluous syllables to describe the long wrongdoings of your life, but to list them all would blur them into flowery wine rather than the sour plums that they were. Lying to good people? Purging the murky cesspits of Gapryong’s Fist? Muddying up the downtown apartment complex your penthouse had been reduced to? 

Gone was the gilt that came with the blood. Your biggest sin this week was making a babe cry with your brief glance, and perhaps the parcel wedged beneath your warm body and raincoat. 

With one hand, you fumbled a rusty key into your lock—third floor, no lurkers, no telltale signs of intruders—and with the other, you clutched the bundle to your chest with the fervour of a starved man. It’s open—!

“Oh.” There he is. 

“‘Oh’ is right. You are late,” he seethed, eyes roaming from the very crown of your soaked head to the tips of your muddy boots. “And you’re getting mud everywhere.”

“Forgive me.” You sounded perfectly contrite, and somewhat abashed—and the sincerity in your tone caused Jinyoung Park to somewhat deflate. You— he— he could never stay mad at the face of his downcast husband after all, even if he knew full well the trembling furrow in your brows had been practised and machinated until Gapryong damn Kim himself twitched in irritation at your performances. 

Well. You weren’t the Infiltrator behind the Fist for no reason. 

“If you’re sorry, take a hot bath before you catch a cold. I’ll heat up the jjigae so you don’t get sick,” he grumbled, but anyone and everyone who knew him could see the soft-worn affection behind his grousing. He wasn’t your husband for no reason. 

There was no move from you. You remained holding your coat to your chest, ring glinting on your finger as you shifted. The back of his neck prickled. 

“Err, might be a bit of a problem, doc,” you said. Sheepishly. Like you always did before that mouth of yours caused your target to become tetchy as they threw something at you. 

His hand instinctively reached for your pink fluffy slipper on the shoe rack to whack your arm with. 

“You got injured? What did you do?” But rather than land on his target, he grasped your arm. There might’ve been a meow. Did it come from you? Maybe. He could never be too sure with you. 

With a loud, obnoxiously obvious gulp, you slid the material of your windbreaker aside. It rustled as though it was making excuses for you, since you wouldn’t argue your case. In fact, you would probably cheerfully agree with whatever he flung at you. 

“A… cat. A cat,” he stared dumbly. A soggy feline juvenile stared dumbly back. 

Huh?

“A… cat?” he repeated, still processing the mental shock. Its matted, damp grey fur and huge splotch on your shirt suggested you’d carried this wretched creature for many miles. And, knowing you, you probably had. Despair wrought his face pallid. 

“Sur… prise?” you echoed in a mimicry of his cadence, and he buried his forehead in his clammy palm. No, he prepared himself to say, already expecting the imminent question. No, his mouth formed. No. “And it’s a kitten, not a cat. Be nice.”

“Can we keep him?” you asked as though this wasn’t the cheap apartment you’d purchased in this district. No, he wanted to reproach, since you did somewhat acquiesce to his request on your whims. You stared, just as dumbly as him and that cat—an unfortunate trio if he ever saw one. “We can call him Jake.”

“We are not calling him the name of my nephew,” he shot back instantly, then immediately cursed at both himself and you for your masterful deceitfulness. Damn you. Damn his silly, obnoxious, beautiful husband drenched and pitiful from the rain, pleading with those eyes of his and causing him to unintentionally fold. You played him like a damn fiddle. 

And judging by the bright beam you wore, it seemed you knew that a bit too well. 

“Well, I’ll be off cleaning our dear nephew,” you zipped past him, still clutching that little furball with all the tenderness of a new father. He was so lost in the happy glow of your smile that it took him quite a few seconds to recall exactly just what you had said. 

“We are not naming it Jake!” he gritted out. 

“You can finally be the favourite uncle!” you sang, partially drowned out by the flow of hot water. 

Staggering, he propped his elbow up against the thin door leading to the bathroom—sharp glare poised right at it. 

When will I learn to refuse him?

 . ⁺ 　

“Who are you and what the hell did you do to my husband?” Shellshocked, you gaped at the scene before you; Jinyoung Park, the man you had sworn to cherish forevermore, had been replaced by someone who’d actually tolerated the kitten’s presence. Nay, the man had the very furball—that he glared at—sequestered away on his very lap while he looked over research files from his lab. And he was stroking behind its ears and under its chin nonetheless! 

What a conundrum. 

“Being the favourite uncle,” he replied with a half-smirk that couldn’t be hidden from your prying eyes. For once in your long life—riddled with more lies and deceits than you could count—you were stumped. 

You cooed to the kitten, attempted bribing it with treats, and even brandished the foxtail you’d found on your way back home. All for naught—the feline remained firmly wedged on his lap, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. 

“Well, your prophecy did work out. We’re both favourite uncles now,” he bragged, and a tear might’ve slipped from your eye as you watched the heartwarming scene. 

“Save a space for me on the couch after I shower,” you demanded, though it was not with any malice nor aggression—just a raw affection for this little bubble. 

“I’ll see.” However hard he denied it, he was still that wily man you’d fallen for; in the hazy evening lamplight, though, he was much softer round the edges.  

And perhaps you were too. 

For despite your lack of piety, you sincerely prayed this would be the domain of the future.

a/n: yes the cat is still called jake

[bb-bambam]

you're telling me jinyoung and jaemin both did the submissive and breedable omega pose?? and i'm supposed to just be normal about that???

[milfgyuu]

oh, how i’ve missed writing for jinyoung 🥹 [snippet from “The Wicked Prince” coming soon!]

[write-it-good-imagines]

Every Rule Has An Exception

Hello, everyone! Happy spring! Happy to be back. I got this surge of inspiration, and what better way to use it than writing a Jackson-centered piece? :) PS: It ties slightly into the Nothing More story, but can also be read independently.

PS2: This is the mashup I used as inspo for one of the scenes below. Enjoy listening!!

±4k words, fluff, GOT7 party, romance build up

“I’m so sorry I’m late Sam. You don’t usually sign up to be a babysitter for grown-ups, but I guess it’s part of the job.”

“It’s no biggie, we’re just warming up. Mark's birthday is not for another couple hours,” Samantha chuckled on the other end of the line. Jo was speaking the truth; she really was sorry for being more than an hour late. “But yeah, you’re the last one to arrive.”

“I can take that, okay?” Jo followed with a smile. “This gentleman with the Uber is really revving it up for me!”

“Take care, okay? We’ll be here a while anyway!”

Jo put her phone into her purse and guided a hand to her nape to massage it. An ugly knot was forming in her stiff muscles, and she let out a sigh. Her smartwatch buzzed up with another work message, and she tapped the screen to turn it off. She caught a glimpse of the time before doing so: 9:30 PM. Against her better wishes, the flight from the States to Korea left her jetlagged.

Jo tried to turn off her brain for the remainder of the trip, yet various scenarios were creeping up in her mind. Could she have done better during her meetings? Did she leave a first good impression to her partners? Was she appropriate enough in terms of their cultural differences?

“I should stop.” She murmured to herself and leaned against the headrest of the car. The Uber driver had a small minibar in his car and was kind enough to offer her a bottle of water. Jo left a generous tip for his gesture when she got out of the car.

The house that Samantha rented for Mark’s birthday was lit up like a Christmas tree. Despite it being somewhere in the buzzing heart of Seoul, it was neatly tucked away behind generous vegetation, and it offered an air of privacy. A purple gleam coming out of the house had Jo shield her eyes. She relaxed her shoulders; if she came, she might as well enjoy herself.

“Fashionably late, the party showstopper is here!”

To her surprise, the music was not obscenely loud, and her voice instantly caught Mark’s attention. He was wearing a party hat and a pair of pink funky glasses with faux feathers around the lenses. Mark greeted her at the door with a tall glass of champagne.

“Finally,” he teased. “Welcome, Jo!”

“Happy Birthday, Mark! It looks like Sam took care of everything around here.”

Jo gladly took the glass and pointed to the colorful balloons floating in the entrance area. The whole living room space was opened, with a dark matte staircase indicating the access to the superior floor. A lot of birthday decorations in sight, changing the otherwise sombre colors of the house into an inviting underground club kind of style. She felt a bit out of place, in her dark Ralph Lauren suit and Manolo Blahnik white mules. She could at least unbutton one or two buttons of her shirt.

“I’m told she and Bambam plotted to make everything around here as is. Oh, speaking of the devil!”

Samantha quickly chimed in, wearing a matching party hat with Mark. He gave her a peck on the cheek.

“I swear to God, Jo, I started wondering if you’d actually show up today.”

“Oh, you know me, never missing a good party! Mark, do you have any pair of slippers around here? These heels are killing my feet.”

“I’ll go look upstairs. The landlords said we would have a box of necessities somewhere around here. Excuse me, ladies.”

Mark took Jo’s handbag to put it in the luggage area upstairs. Sam grabbed her friend by the hand, tugging her into the crowd. There was not an excessive number of people but, apart from the rest of the Got7 members, there were some unfamiliar faces in the group. To Jo, at least.

“I’m so happy you could make it! I meant what I said. I can’t imagine how tired you must be.”

“Ah, I can’t compare to you, Sam. I’m not operating people in double digit times. Have you given Mark the present yet?”

Jo dipped her head in a bow when she noticed Jinyoung in the crowd. He returned the gesture.

“Not yet. Bambam said he had some fireworks going on? I don’t really know; I have the feeling he’s hiding something. By the way,”

Sam leaned in closer to Jo’s ear and hid her lips with the back of her hand. “Someone was eagerly waiting for you.”

For a moment, Jo was clueless. “Oh, why, is Johnny regretful about something? I don’t see him here.”

“Come on, Jo. I think you know better than that.”

“I… don’t?”

Samantha noticed Jinyoung making his way through the crowd. “Well then, I’ll leave you in good hands with Jinyoung. Maybe he’ll give you a hint if he’s nice enough. I must go talk to the cake delivery!”

Before she had the chance to protest, Samantha made her way swiftly towards the kitchen area. Jo was left hanging with her arm in the air. Jinyoung chuckled when he heard her sigh.

“Trouble in paradise?” he dared and showed a path to where Jaebum and another unfamiliar figure were talking.

Jo had to mentally adjust to the change of language. She forgot she had spoken to the other in Korean when they met backstage at the concert. “Oh well, sometimes you just have to give up with that woman.”

Jinyoung introduced Jo to some of the foreign people in the house, and he helped her with leading the conversations. It did not take long for Jo to ease into the atmosphere, quickly reminded of her older college days. A sworn extrovert, as Samantha would say. Jo was happy to join their company, as the tumult of the past day was slowly easing into a celebratory atmosphere. At some point, she picked up the growing rhythm of the music, only to notice Bambam had also contacted a DJ for the night. At some point, someone had offered her a paper crown to put on her head, but she never noticed who had given the accessory to her.

“It suits you.” Jinyoung gestured to the party headpiece. “And somehow works with the suit as well.”

Jo knew he was joking. She appreciated the gesture. “Thanks! I just hope Mark returns with those slippers soon because I cannot feel my feet at this point.”

Jinyoung dipped his head in a small motion. “Don’t worry, your slippers are here.”

Jo turned her head and noticed Jackson approaching through the crowd. A smile flourished on her features, and it was certainly not meant for the slippers. Maybe Jackson noticed, as he did not hesitate to smile right back at her. He was wearing a crown party headpiece of his own, fitting for his last name.

“Someone called for a special delivery?” Jackson chuckled and proudly displayed the so-called delivery. “This house really does have everything!”

“Why don’t you help her change her shoes?” Jaebum taunted, taking a sip of his drink. He was closer to Jackson, so Jo could not figure out his words entirely. Jackson showed a surprising look and was faster to act. He offered his hand to the woman.

“Come, let’s find you a seat to change.”

Both very happy with the outcome, Jinyoung and Jaebum waved to the other two as they left. Jackson gently took the lead and guided Jo to a comfortable armchair in a tucked away corner of the kitchen. Jo watched Jackson as he knelt in front of her, placing the spare shoes on the ground. She would notice later; they were matching clothes, with Jackson wearing a loose Louis Vuitton dark suit.

“May I?” Jackson gestured to Jo’s heels, prepared to take them off for her.

“No need, Jackson, I can handle it no problem.”

His amused eyes prevented Jo from taking any further action. She acknowledged his request and relaxed into the plush of the chair.

“It’s the least I can do as one of the hosts,” Jackson spoke and swiftly slipped the heels away from Jo’s tired feet. He had an impulse to massage the soles but quickly shook it away. He did notice the woman’s sigh of relief.

“Host?” Jo asked, wiggling her toes for a bit. Jackson noticed and stalled his movements to give her some space. “So, you’re in charge of the after-cleaning?”

“Please don’t tell anyone, but I lost the rock-paper-scissor game, and I need to bear the consequences of my own actions.”

They both laughed. Jo felt her energy rising and motioned for Jackson to put on the slippers. She showed a mocking gesture of secrecy, “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Appreciate it. I’m happy I don’t have to give this suit back, so I think I’ll be forgiven if I spill something on the fabric by mistake.”

Jackson offered his hand again to help Jo stand, and the latter accepted happily. “Thank you, Jackson. You made my life easier.”

“Again, least I can do.”

Jo lingered for a little while before letting go of his hand. She was now 6cm shorter without the heels, yet Jackson did not seem to mind. Neither of those actions.

“I mean, for the slippers too, but I felt like a total clown coming in with this posh suit when everyone’s wearing their comfiest clothes. At least I’m matching someone in style now.”

Jackson grabbed his glass of half-finished Hennessy from the nearby counter. “Nonsense. You’re extremely beautiful, with or without the suit.”

Jo was not the one to get nervous by such remarks. Truth was, she was used to hearing such comments from all the men who either tried to buy her out of her business or persuade her into submission. She knew Jackson was not ill-intentioned, but she also knew it was in his nature to be friendly and unknowingly flirty. No matter how well they seemed to click during their outing the other day with Samantha and Mark.

“How come?” Jo asked and grabbed her own glass of unfinished champagne. She wanted to be cautious with the alcohol; she could not remember if she had had anything to eat during the day. “I didn’t have the chance to check my makeup, and I’m sure my hair is not as slick as I want it to be.”

Jackson looked as if Jo had told him the Earth was flat. “Stop toying with my feelings and just accept the facts.”

“Jackson! Jo!” Bambam interrupted with a shout, his dark sunglasses vibing with the music in the speakers. Yugyeom was holding the other by the shoulders, and it seemed like they had just had another round of shots. “Don’t keep all the fun to yourselves! Come on over and let’s shake our asses on the dancefloor!”

“Hear, hear!” Yugyeom followed. “We wanted to be in full formula before we got this party started!”

“Full formula? What’s that about?”

“I asked them to hold off for a little while till you got here,” Jackson replied and gestured with his head to join the bigger group.

Someone was eagerly waiting for you.

“Right…” Jo chuckled to herself and happily joined the others to kick off the celebrations. However, the wild dancing was postponed yet again as the catering delivery had just made its way inside the generous living room. Bambam insisted that the music should not be turned down and was happy to share a pizza with the DJ. Jo grabbed a paper plate and served some chicken pops and fries. Her body started grooving with the music.

“Is this me, or is this a playlist similar to what we used to have in college?”

“Sharp as always,” Samantha admitted and took a big bite of her quattro formaggi slice. “So, I was planning all this with Bam, right? And he said, ‘We must have a good mix. How can we call it a party without a good mix?’ and I said, ‘I got you homie, ’ and then I gave the DJ my old Spotify playlist that I played when you twerked on me at that Sophomore gathering.”

Jo almost spit her food laughing. Jackson and Mark were listening to the story with much interest. Objectively, of course. “Oh my God, Sam! I thought I was too drunk to remember that, but hell if my subconscious wants me to forget that. Music really is a very strong sense.”

“Isn’t that when you made out with Jonathan?” Samantha continued in a forgotten revelation.

“It was! Next morning, we had joint practice with the boys’ volleyball team, and he asked me out at a set point. To hell if I set anything that morning!”

Mark saw Jackson wincing and started laughing too. "I swear to God, Jonathan had kissed all of our girls. Yikes."

“Did you play in the collegiate league?” Jackson asked Jo, trying to change the subject of kissing some other men. Perhaps if he hadn’t met Jonathan, he wouldn’t have given it much thought. Maybe jealousy was too strong of a word.

“I did, first three years I think,” Jo nodded her head. “2016 seems so far away now, doesn’t it?”

Jackson did a quick calculation in his head. His eyes widened in surprise. “You got admitted to Stanford in 2014?”

Jo did not question how Jackson knew about her studies. “Oh yeah. Sam and I are class of 2017, even though in different majors.”

“You could have actually met if Jackson had gone to Stanford back then!” Mark joked, pushing the other man slightly with his shoulder.

It was Jo’s turn to be surprised. She turned her body towards Jackson. “I totally forgot! You got a scholarship for fencing in 2012, didn’t you?”

Jackson smiled. “It’s funny how the world works. If I had accepted and met the two of you, maybe I wouldn’t have met my other 6 brothers. And vice-versa.”

People were preparing to put their plates to the side, and Jaebum took lead of gathering the remaining food to carry it to the kitchen. Samantha offered to help, cutting their reminiscent discussion short.

“Do you ever think about what could have been?” Jo stole a glance at Jackson, who quickly shook his head.

“I used to. Not anymore, though. I think if we’re not living a certain life is because we are not meant to live it.”

“Mhm,” Jo accepted and angled her head to look him in the eyes. Although more mature, Jackson was still the same insightful person who captured her attention in the group. That glimmer in his eyes could not be seen behind a TV screen. Jo was wearing the same daring expression she wore when she captured Jackson’s attention during their concert. “I think every rule has an exception.”

With the tip of her finger, Jo provoked Jackson to follow her into the crowd towards the middle of the living room where the group was gathering. A suave come here which elicited a hearty laughter from Jackson would later be one of his core memories about Jo. For the moment, he obliged to follow her and ease the tension in his shoulders. Jackson gulped the rest of his drink and left the glass somewhere he did not bother to remember. A remix of Beauty and a Beat and Club Can’t Handle Me got everyone moving.

Jo felt her body lighter, allowing the good vibes to collide with her system. A long time had passed since she had felt relaxed, even more so since she had felt that she could express herself freely.

All I need / Is a beauty and a beat / Who can make my life complete…

At some point, Jackson and Jo twisted and came to face one another, just as if the Universe had plotted to lock them on the same frequency. It did not take long for Jackson to capture Jo’s full attention, and the woman inched closer to him, accepting his exclusive invitation.

You know I know how / To make ‘em stop and stare / Watching you watching me I go all out…

Smiles turning into smirks turning into alluring movements had Jo in Jackson’s utmost proximity. Neither of them took it one step further, to break the suspense of a first touch. Jo was testing the waters, with the tips of the fingers tracing ghostly touches under Jackson’s chin. He smirked right back at her, licking his lips with the tip of his tongue. Yet he was patient, he was telling himself. As a matter of fact, Jackson took his sweet time memorizing Jo’s silhouette and fantasizing how he would grab her by the waist in a moment of weakness—

“EVERYONE!!!” Bambam shouted through the music, “Fireworks are out, now!!”

Rushed movements ferried the group into the private garden of the house, where Bambam prepared himself to press on a very ominous red button on a remote. Amidst the chaos, Samantha observed the way Jo and Jackson danced with one another, unconsciously yet attentively isolating themselves from the crowd.

“What’s the time?” Jaebum asked laughing and positioned himself by Bam’s side to break the surprise loose.

Jinyoung cupped his hands around his mouth to shout back at them. He was careful enough to leave his glasses inside the house. “3 minutes to midnight!”

Jaebum and Bambam then nodded to one another, and it was enough of a signal for Bam to press the red button. Once pressed, sudden popping sounds erupted from some nearby devices, sending fireworks into the sky. Simultaneously, the garden sprinkles went off, covering the group in droplets of water. Jo let out a shriek and instinctively put her hands in the air to cover her face. Jackson took out his jacket to cover Jo’s frame as best as he could, bravely facing the water himself. The silence was broken by hearty laughter that burst out of their chests. Jo turned to Jackson. Under Jackson’s improvised cloth shield, where the water caused Jo’s mascara to smear and Jackson’s hair to ruin, they were laughing, and they were happy.

The sprinklers ceased fire, and Jackson lowered his jacket. Youngjae came out of the house with an impressive green cake, with multiple candles burning brightly.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mark!”

Everyone heeded Youngjae’s singing to celebrate Mark. He blew into a party horn, still wearing those ridiculous party glasses, and then grasped his hands together to make a wish before blowing out the candles.

“This is definitely one of the happiest moments of my life,” Jackson spoke, throwing his jacket somewhere on the lawn to rake his wet hair.

Jo was silent for a while. Watching Mark blowing the candles, Samantha taking a video of the entire moment, and the boys’ friends earnestly celebrating their bond and Mark, everything reminded Jo of her college days. Between time and life, where she once stood in Mark’s shoes, she could not remember the last time she had that genuine feeling in her chest. She missed the sensation.

“Me too,” Jo finally spoke and leaned her head against Jackson’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

The party came to an end in the depth of the night. The guests gradually started leaving and it was 3AM when Jo went outside in the garden to grab some fresh air. Summer was still strong in the breeze, in the movements of the trees, and in the shining stars of the sky. The lawn was covered into spaghetti confetti, a piece of the cake was still lying where Mark was pushed with his face into the whipped cream with an empty bottle of champagne next to it. Jo remembered Jackson was supposed to be in charge of cleaning and she felt bad for him.

Jo took out her jacket and put it on the grass to seat atop of it. It was too late to think about grass smears, and she could only hope the Seoul cleaners would be able to revive her entire suit.

“It was all worth it.”

“What was?”

Jackson approached the woman with two glasses of water. Jo gestured for him to join her, seeing as he was already prepared anyway, and he seated himself next to her on the damp grass.

“I was just thinking I would have to pay good money to resuscitate this, Ralph Lauren.”

“Ah,” Jackson laughed. “I don’t want to sound like an entitled prick, but I gave up on mine.”

It was Jo’s turn to laugh. “I’ll give you a call if I find this magical cleaner. But now that I think about it, I don’t think I gave you my number.”

“Isn’t this as good a reason as any?”

Jo mimicked shock on her face to which Jackson laughed. “Ouch, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t want my number.”

Jackson mirrored her expression, albeit more genuinely. “Please forgive me.”

Jo tapped her chin with the index. “I’ll let it slide. Just this once.”

Jackson’s chest deflated from letting out all that air. “I got lucky.”

While she was typing her contact into Jackson’s phone, he spoke. “Are you leaving soon?”

“I should. I have a meeting at 8AM if you can imagine.”

“I don’t know why but I actually can.”

Jo quirked an eyebrow. “Just because I carry it well doesn’t mean it’s not heavy.”

She knew she must have ruined the fun when Jackson did not reply. He was playing with the tattooed skin of his finger. Jo cleared her throat and handed the phone back.

“I’ll go upstairs to gather my things, and I’ll order an Uber. It shouldn’t take too long to get home. It’s a nightmare to think I’ll have to change back into those heels.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you to the car and take you home.”

Jo scoffed. “I can handle that.”

Jackson’s eyes were too serious for his own good. And to argue, for that matter. “Okay, I’ll give you my loafers, but I’ll still take you home. You refused last time we went out and I spammed Sam’s phone with messages to make sure you got home safe.”

Jo was surprised. For some reason, Samantha had failed to mention that to her. Unless that was the plan all along. “She never said. But what will you take then? You can’t imagine I’d accept you walking barefoot on the streets.”

Jackson simply pointed to the slippers on her feet. “I mean, I’m getting back here anyway.”

“There’s no use arguing with you, is it?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Not about these kinds of things, no.”

“Do tell, what can I argue with you about?”

Jackson rose to his feet. “We can find out if you’d like, I guess,” he extended his hand to help her get up. It was the second time that night Jo lingered into his touch, which was warmer this time around. “Come on, I’ll take your things.”

Jackson stopped in his tracks for a quick moment. A quick moment that would have had Jo blushing, maybe under different circumstances. "You're still as beautiful."

Samantha and Mark accompanied Jackson and Jo to the front gate. The sight of Jo wearing Jackson’s loafers, which were noticeably bigger than her size, had Samantha giggling.

“The Jo I knew would have chosen to die rather than take her heels off.”

Jo sneered and folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe this Jo learnt a thing or two.”

“Mhm,” Samantha remarked.

“Hey, Jackson, let’s leave the girls to say their goodbyes. We can wait for the Uber in the street.”

“Happy birthday once again, Mark. I hope you’ve had fun and do enjoy this day to the fullest.”

“Thank you for coming, Jo. I know it was short notice and everything, but I do appreciate your presence here. We’ll clean up and get to sleep most likely.”

As Jackson and Mark walked away from the gate, Samantha approached Jo, facing her with her arms crossed over the chest as well. “And? What did this Jo learn tonight?”

Jo chuckled. “This and that.”

“This Jo and that Jo, as I said, would die and not take off her heels for no man. Surprise, surprise, you’re wearing Jackson’s loafers.”

“Yeah, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

Samantha continued taunting. “This Jo and that Jo would have probably slammed her lips against his. What was it that you claimed? Fuck around and find out?”

Jo did not comment.

“Maybe if Bam wouldn’t have cut off the moment, you just might have.”

The girls turned their attention towards the car. Mark was waving for them to approach.

“Who knows? He’s taking me home, isn’t he?”

Samantha watched Jo with a devious look in the eye. “He is.”

Chapter 2

[mykoreanlove]

Things that made him run from you

[part 1]

“Wait, what? You guys broke up?!”

Jinyoung stared at his feet, slightly annoyed by his senior’s questions about you. Because it was true – you guys had broken up. Or rather, Jinyoung broke it off with you to be precise.

“Do you wanna tell me or should I squeeze it out of you?” He let out a long sigh before spilling the tea.

“Is y/n beautiful? Absolutely. Is she smart and funny? Hell, yes. I had the best conversations with her, and you know how we virgos are. Was the sex mind-blowing? You bet. But-”, he paused for a second, thinking cautiously about his next words.

“But what?”

Jinyoung glared viciously at his friend for rushing him. “But her vibe was off. I don’t know how to explain it, but her energy was kind of icky.”

He was met by wide eyes that didn’t comprehend the depth of his words. “You are telling me that you broke it off with y/n, a girl that sounds perfect on paper, because her vibe was off?!” Given the tone of his friend’s question it was evident that Jinyoung had to go into more detail.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I just got the feeling that she was not ready for this. For me… or us.” A pained look formed on his handsome face. Truth is, Jinyoung did not want to break up with you but sadly you left him no choice.

“Not ready how?”

It was hard to find the right words, but he tried, nonetheless. “Have you ever been with a girl that doesn’t feel complete on her own? It’s funny because when you meet her for the first time you are totally oblivious, captivated by the mask she put on for you. And only with time you start to see the cracks in it. I started to realize that y/n did not have the right mindset for a relationship. She always relied on me to make her happy, you know? It’s like she couldn’t exist on her own.”

“Wait a moment – what do you mean she couldn’t exist on her own? Didn’t she have a job and friends and stuff like that?” Jinyoung smiled sadly. “Of course, she had all those things. But deep inside? Hollowness. She was constantly fixated on what I was doing and how I could help her to be happy. Her day and emotions were totally owned by me. It got exhausting real quick.”

Absurdly, Jinyoung used to be like you. He had those same dependency tendencies but worked a lot to transform them. He put a lot of effort into becoming independent and self-sufficient, so he had absolutely no interest in someone that wasn’t. But he was still crushed that you turned out to be that way.

“I don’t get it. Aren’t you supposed to make her happy? Aren’t you her boyfriend after all?”

Funny how elder people were supposed to be the wiser ones. “Is that your definition of a relationship, hyung? Because it isn’t mine.”

What Jinyoung wanted was to be with someone that was his equal. He wanted a woman by his side who was happy on her own. A woman with a life of her own, someone with passions and dreams. He wanted someone being so full of love already that it was only logical to share it with someone else, someone like him. He wanted someone being rooted in abundance, rather than lack.

Did he want to share that love? Yes. Did he want to make you happy? Absolutely. But he couldn’t fulfill all your needs, he could only add to those. He realized that you were a hungry ghost, leeching for his love. No matter what he did, you needed more and more and more. Catching up quickly, it made him feel used.

“I want to be with someone that loves me for me and not for what I can do for them. Why did y/n need my love so badly? Why did she jump at my every command and left everything to be with me? Why was she so desperate for the smallest act of affection? Because she had no love on her own, not even for herself. How can you love someone if you don’t even love yourself?”

He was met by compassionate eyes. “I am sorry, Jinyoung. I can now see why you turned your back on her. Still, it must suck though. Are you going to be okay?”

Oh, he would. He would process his feelings like he always did. He would get over you and find someone new. Jinyoung wasn’t concerned with his well-being at all.

He was rather concerned with yours. Would you be okay? Would you understand that you were whole and complete on your own? Would you find the happiness and love that you searched for within you? He really did hope so.

Because a part of him didn’t want to give you up. A small part was hoping that you would get your shit together, so that the two of you could re-do this. He was not ready to give you up, just yet. Thinking of that possibility filled his heart with joy, so he smiled at his friend: “We’re gonna be okay.”

[part 2]

[t-ess-e]

I just want to talk about how "The Devil Judge" is one of the best kdrama's ever, the plot? fire! The acting? Top notch! The characters are relatable. The writing is so beautiful I could actually cry, Strong female characters (i support their wrongs and their rights) And yes the sexual tension between the two male leads - its not defined but trust me, friends don't look at friends that way.

It's essentially the Korean version of Hannibal minus the Serial killers and cannibalism.

[whizzergoingmadd]

park jinyoung HATES ahgase. confirmed by park jinyoung himself

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

got7 as teachers 👨‍🏫🖍️:

mark as a math teacher -> • seems like a pushover but there was An Incident where a student made him mad enough it resulted in 3 expulsions, 8 suspensions, and a school-wide fear of him • assigns students that hate each other as seatmates so he can enjoy the drama • is a class favourite bc he doesn't yell at people for sleeping or eating during class

jaebeom as a literature teacher -> • comes into class with a mug full of coffee and spills some on students once a week • encourages students to form their own opinion and perspective on the books being taught • his assigned essays have no fixed length or format. go wild

jackson as a p.e. teacher -> • everyone's biggest cheerleader • flags down people randomly and gives life advice • is besties with the students and knows all the tea

jinyoung as a history teacher -> • teaches history as if he has a personal beef with every historical figure • if students annoy him too much, then they have to prepare themselves to be publicly humiliated. he will say something like, "history repeats itself, like how tony keeps picking his nose." • makes sure students understand the whys behind history and not just memorise it

youngjae as a music teacher -> • is the unofficial dictator of the whole school • the director of the annual school play and every year he rubs it in the face of other schools' drama teachers that his plays are the best in the whole district • everyone has a silent competition on who can make him laugh the loudest

bambam as a chemistry teacher -> • the school had to change their manual for lab safety bc of him • is a big fan of the application part of chemistry. every year he tries to find out how many times he can make things go boom 💥 • dresses like paris fashion week is his official dress code

yugyeom as a substitute teacher -> • gets pushed around by freshman • whenever he takes a class, the students cheer like it's a national holiday • is the director of the school performance team and the marching band and he runs both like a military boot camp

[slowd1ving]

[NOSTOS] SNIPPET ゜・JINYOUNG PARK

for anyone curious about the type of planning I do when I write me when I am unable to erase tension from the fluffiest of writing (sorry anon I promise this will end with so much fluff literally) (and emotionally I swear)

LOOKISM MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

[pokkomi]

CHOI JINYOUNG SPOTTED !! I love him so so much he's adorable (I MISS SEASONS OF BLOSSOM and have yet to watch the kdrama)

im never escaping this skank… im pretty sure i had him as a pfp for a WHILE before too😹😹 I LOVE SEASONS OF BLOSSOM SM OMG i cried reslly really hard in the second part🙁🙁. i actually havent watched the kdrama either but I PLAN ONTO‼️‼️

[ofdamnation]

gotta go to bed 'cause my boyfriends up early tomorrow , so sad about it 'cause the threads goin' on right now are ???? get ready for me to fuck up your lives further in the morning , goodnight loves!

[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Six

Hello everyone! Hope you had a great first half of the year. With everything happening so fast in my life, I now found a moment to breathe and get in my feelings again. So here's chapter six. Enjoy~ ~6k words, angst, love. How am I supposed to let you go when I don't wanna see you with anyone but me when nobody gets me like you? I only like myself when I'm with you.

Morning came seemingly too early for Samantha. The light orange spice of the sun was barging through the crack of the beige curtains of the bedroom, to find a resting place in the shared bed. That beautiful warmth gently awoke the woman who longed for a couple stolen minutes between the sheets. Try as she might, Samantha shifted from one side to the other in a hopeless attempt to charm the sleep from going away. She looked at Mark, whose brown hair was sparkling a dark autumn gold, and his eyelashes were fluttering in his sleep. Truly, a tender image to remember.

Samantha slid out of bed hoping she wouldn’t disturb Mark’s peace and stretched her body. With the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of an open notebook on a distant desk, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper. She curiously approached it but didn’t dare touch it. Mark’s handwriting was scribbled in the intimacy of the pages, some words crossed out, others accompanied by small question marks. There was a title towering at the top of the page: everyone else fades. A love song.

“Hey.” Mark’s voice groggily echoed from the bed and Samantha turned her body to him. It felt like he had been watching her for a while. His voice was an octave lower than usual but still sounded like music to Samantha’s ears.

“How long have you been awake?” she smiled, approaching the bed to sit on the edge.

Mark extended an arm to her direction to meet with her hand. “I felt you squirm around.”

“I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and gave a small squeeze to his hand. Mark just shook his head in response to indicate he was not bothered at all.

“Did you find anything you like?” asked Mark.

Samantha’s eyes travelled to the open notebook, then back to Mark. “Who is that for?” she asked in a mellow voice, focused on his presence.

Mark intertwined his fingers with hers and chuckled. Samantha was not meant to find that piece of writing, and he’d forgotten entirely about it the previous night. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Samantha chuckled and leaned on her belly into bed, meeting Mark’s curious eyes. He extended his hand to tug a lone strand of hair behind her ear. How much did she want that song to be for her.

“What?” Mark whispered and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I bet my breath smells like shit.”

She laughed louder this time. Was she jealous, with Mark not admitting what she wanted to hear? “I bet mine smells like shit too, so that makes us even.”

“I guess I’ll forgive you this time,” Mark chuckled and let go of her face. He shifted his body to stretch on his side, one arm supporting his head, while the other draped loosely over Samantha’s lap. Marks’ fingers found a grip on Samantha’s naked inner thigh. “Morning sex?”

Samantha giggled and slipped from under his touch in an evident response. Mark laughed, too, albeit with his face dug in the plush of the mattress. “Yeah, go on and break my heart.”

In the absence of any vivid emotions, Samantha felt a string snap in the chords of her heart. Ever since the night before, the woman sensed Mark hid himself behind a wall and she could not see beyond. With every word spoken out of his mouth, the woman gathered it to be the truth.

“I did not mean that.”

Of course you did. “Of course not. I need to get ready for the hospital, I start at noon.”

Mark stretched his body to sit on the edge of the bed, both palms of his hand pushing his torso upright. “Have no idea about the time, but it’s far from noon.”

Then before she had a chance to comment, Mark continued. “Why are you running away from me with every chance you get?”

Samantha looked at him with longing eyes, still with a glimmer of both sadness and regret.

“I need to know, Sam.”

“Didn’t I tell you last night, Mark?”

“I did not sleep a wink thinking about everything you said. After the sex we had. Did you?”

Samantha hesitated for a moment. “No.”

A deep sigh exploded from Mark’s lungs. “Then why? I get it, I’m not tall like him, not as handsome, maybe half as smart—”

The woman rushed to shush him. “That doesn’t even matter—”

“All that I gave to you and still am giving is care and respect. And lo—”

In the distant living room, the sharp ring of a phone cut through what could have been Mark’s confession. Samantha hurriedly distanced herself from the bed, recognizing that the sound belonged to her phone.

“…fuck it.” Mark concluded and gathered a loose shirt from his wardrobe to throw over his head. He plunged to his feet to close the notebook where he had put his thoughts and feelings into lately. It was such a painful blur what Mark was feeling, far from the fairytales love ever promised, and it was blurry, Samantha’s voice speaking hurriedly from the other room, at some point fading in such a manner he could not recognize as hers. After a couple more prolonged seconds, Samantha’s head perked from behind the doorframe, watching Mark’s movements with a heavy heart. “Jonathan rang, the hospital is calling for the board of directors. They want me there earlier.”

“Yeah, sure, you should go.” Mark replied absentmindedly, not even sure he was processing anything else beyond the disappointment of his feelings. The bitterness did not go unnoticed.

“Mark…” Samantha tried getting closer, but Mark did not give any sign of mirroring her actions. She backed away. She settled for another question. “You’re leaving again today?”

“Tonight, yes.” He turned to look at her with a knot in his throat. “I need to start packing and all that.”

In a futile attempt to reestablish a connection with Mark, Samantha ultimately walked away from the cold doorframe, biting into the plush of her lower lip to push back the tears. At long last, she had found someone again, to treat her right and engulf her heart with warmth and joy. Was fear bigger than love? Perhaps it was. Was her pride bigger than Mark? It should not have been. As the woman gathered her scattered clothes from the lover’s nest which was Mark’s living room, and eerie sentiment started crawling to her faster and faster. It was as if Mark felt it too when he approached, replacing her in the doorframe. His arms were folded over his torso and there were abrupt lines under his eyes.

“I don’t think we’ll see each other again.” Mark spoke finally and there was some bigger denial force which led Samantha to believe he was just speaking about the present day.

“No, it’s alright, you must pack, meet up with the others. I think it’s going to be a full day at the hospital, anyway, so don’t worry about me!” Samantha cheered and forced a fake smile out of Mark. He did not want to say more.

“Murphy and Millo are outside, just so you know. I let them out into the backyard after you fell asleep.”

“Sure, I’ll get Murphy on the way out. Thanks.”

There was no intimacy during the last seconds of Samantha’s departure, just fugitive smiles shared, and Mark did not follow her outside. The eerie feeling the woman had previously culminated when Murphy suddenly started yelping and crying that he did not want to leave. As if he’d never come back.

Samantha put on her white coat in her office, straightening the wrinkles in the magenta crayon dress hugging her body. She pushed the hair tightened in a ponytail from under the collar, and let it swing like a metronome for a while. There was a pile of medical files on the desk which needed her careful revision for the day, yet the only thing capturing her attention was Mark’s cold demeanor during their parting. Fingers were curling at the hem of the coat, eyes fixated on a faraway point outside the window. Samantha did not hear Jonathan coming in.

“Sam?” Jonathan approached, briefly tapping at her shoulder. She flinched at the unexpected contact, broken off from her trance.

“Sorry, Jonathan.” She coughed shortly to gather her voice, turning to face the other. “What’s up?”

Jonathan observed her features, devoid of the usual happiness she had lately. “Did anything happen between you and Mark?”

Samantha frowned and for a moment forgot Jonathan knew her better than anyone. Or at least used to. “I don’t really feel like talking about it.” Before Jonathan commented. “Please. What do you need?”

“Nothing in particular, I stopped around to ask about the management meeting. There are rumors you want to step down?”

She nodded her head. “I do. I hate this politics and it’s not really my thing. I want to go back to treating people full time. This time for real.”

A small pause and then a sincere smile appeared on Jonathan’s lips. He opened his arms and Samantha gladly took the invitation to wrap around him. Jonathan gently pulled her head into his shoulder, towering over her. “Congratulations. We’ve been waiting for you for so long. Does this mean you talked to him? To Mark?”

Samantha tightened her grip around Jonathan. His back was as broad as she remembered it to be.

“Then why are you sad?”

She just shook her head. “Okay, I’ll stop. We can speak when you feel like it. I lied to you earlier, I actually came to tell you something else.”

“Oh?” Samantha pulled away, watching Jonathan with curious eyes. Jonathan cleared his throat, still holding Samantha close to him. It might as well have been for the last time that he did.

The nervous pacing of a nurse interrupted them with a knock on the open door. Jonathan let go of the woman, straightening his back. He winked at Samantha, with a playful smirk on his lips that she had not seen in a long time. She was overwhelmed with curiosity, especially since, even before the beginning of their relationship, that small gesture was always associated with mischief.

“Doctor Stoss, there is a patient here who wants to meet you. I understand you treated his wife in the past.”

“Of course, I’ll join him momentarily. Thank you, nurse.”

Samantha turned back to Jonathan after the nurse had walked away. “Hey, do you think we could call in the late-night motorcycle ride we talked about? I could really use it. And we could talk more, as it seems you have one or two things to confess to me.”

Jonathan laughed. “Count me in, then. I’ll walk with you; I’m heading to the reception area anyway.”

Truth was, people never get to be ready for the situations life puts them through. They never get warnings, never get spoilers, always hit again and again with the unforeseen and never get used to it. In the lobby of the reception area, Samantha recognized the man looking for her, all too well, with little tweaks and rough around the edges. Next to him was a woman, showing signs of pregnancy, and it all felt like history was replaying all over again. In a cruel deja vu.

“Doctor Stoss,” the man spoke, and a shiver ran down Samantha’s spine. Jonathan felt it and made himself busy around the area, in case she needed him. “We meet again.”

“Mister Dalton, yes.” Samantha composed herself but her skin must have been so pale from the sheer shock. “How can I be of use?”

“I know what you must be thinking.” The man continued, keeping a distance. “It’s not you that I hate, if I have that anymore in my heart. My sister,” gesturing toward the feminine silhouette next to him “she recently found out that she is pregnant, and we wish to monitor everything meticulously from the start.”

Samantha could not comprehend the words spoken to her. “That’s certainly very good thinking but why me? There are many skilled doctors in Seoul who I’m sure can help you with whatever you need.” She then looked down at the white floor. “I did not even forgive myself, so how could you?”

Dalton’s sister reached out for Samantha’s hand in a compassionate gesture which took Samantha by surprise. The man was looking away, not with a distraught expression, but rather one which was desperately fighting for the closure he so much needed. “You should forgive. We both know it was not you. We do.”

So many thoughts were rushing at that moment through Samantha’s mind, crowding and emptying and then crawling in colossal nonsense. The past weeks had been full of the unexpected, of unknown emotions, unknown people, and unknown happenings. Mark came to her mind again. How was it a coincidence that only the night before she was undoing the strings of pain aching at her heart, only to be followed by the father whose two most important people were lost from this life, looking to her for treatment?

“You are foreign like us, so you do understand the obvious choice. We read your scientific papers and all the good you did for the people. Despite us losing our dearest wife and sister, we want to bring his niece and my daughter into the world, loud cries and healthy. By your hands.”

Jonathan’s smile was so stretched out that it could have reached the galaxy. Samantha turned to him by instinct, to find him scribbling a happy face on an empty admission form, as happy as his oozing joy. Then she turned to the brothers, to be met by a sincere look in mister Dalton’s eyes. The sign for which she hoped would come finally did.

“Mister Dalton, please find one of these admission forms and fill it in on my patient’s behalf. Let’s go to an examination room.”

Jonathan giggled akin to a child. “Doctor Williams, if you could help me bring the other files I had, please.”

In light of the events unfolding before her very eyes, Samantha felt something click in her conscience. All the signs in the world could not have been louder to tell her it was time she came face to face with her feelings and her pride. For all that mattered, she had to confess to Mark what was on her mind, which was him and him alone. The mornings drew their breath from him, the days flew by to reach him, and the dusk settled to be with him. There couldn’t have been any other. It could not make sense with anyone else, it had to be Mark.

Now, or never.

Amidst packing the usual stuff for the last leg of the tour, Mark had an uneasy sentiment throughout. He replayed the moment they lay together on the summer grass in the park, teasing and laughing at one another, sewing little by little what he thought would be an indisputable connection. She drew him in, with the audacity of a thief and the serenity of a child. The smell of her skin filling the air bewitching him, the amber of her eyes twinkling like the brightest of stars, and oh the sound of her voice. She was a midsummer night’s dream.

Only she proved to be just that. A dream. Who was he to intrude, if she did not want him?

Mark took a glance at himself in the mirror and laughed at how hypocritical he was. Blaming his mishap on Samantha’s clear boundaries. You aren’t that guy, Jinyoung kept repeating to him, time and again, and by the time he realized he truly was not that guy, he had already done the damage to himself. During Mark’s career, with the bright lights and the fame, most of the girls he met were shallow, looking for easy ways to get out. They all wanted him; he never wanted them. Now that he wanted her, she did not want him. How pitiful that must have felt, to walk with your head held high into a trap thinking it would be a reward. And Samantha was not like anyone else he’d had, she was everything all the other women were not. Fierce, independent, addictive. In between the sheets, he did not believe sex and love could coexist and mean something. And Mark wanted her, with every piece she carried, even more so to fool himself he could help her heal, put a purpose on love again.

Human beings are selfish by nature, far from being perfect. Mark could not push a woman to be with him, against her own will. He would rather suffer than live a lie. Against all odds even, he stopped believing she would give them a chance.

So, to let her go was what he could do, for the sake of both of them.

At the crack of sundown, Mark brought his luggage to the van and joined with the rest of the guys to leave for the airport. He must have exuded a sense of sadness because the usual cheery atmosphere turned into a looming silence.

“Mark? Everything okay?” Jackson asked, putting his phone to the side.

“Yeah, sort of.” Mark replied and put the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, with a loud sigh. Ultimately, he gave up. “Everything is not okay.”

Jinyoung just sighed and folded his arms over his chest. Mark turned his body to the side to speak with the driver. “Can we make a stop to SMP hospital?”

“What are you even doing, adding oil to the fire?” Jinyoung commented, clearly dissatisfied that his friend just chose to torture himself further.

Mark fixed the hood over his eyes, relaxing his body into the fabric of the seat. “I’m letting her go.”

Bambam almost spit the water he was drinking. “You’re doing what now?”

But Mark just ignored the guys, opting to stay silent during the rest of the ride to the hospital. Admittedly, both Jinyoung and Jackson were surprised by Mark’s disclosure. Something had to happen during the night before for Mark to take such a decision, especially as they saw and knew about the feelings Mark harbored for Samantha. They knew better than to pry, Mark would share when he considered appropriate, and all they had to do was to be there for him.

Thoughts were racing through Mark’s mind, as was his heart in his chest, trying to figure out what exactly he would say to rip the band-aid as fast as possible. Whose band-aid he was going to rip off most probably would belong to him, still against his better feelings. Was he an impostor for not fighting more? Although there is nothing louder than the silence of two people being in love but walking away because someone had to choose themselves over the other?

“We’re here, Mark.” Jackson broke the silence, shaking Mark off his trance. “Still going?”

Mark just cracked open the door of the van in response, unpeeling himself hastily from his seat. Back in the car, there was an avalanche of buzzing coming from the cellphones of the other guys, and there was a collective shock.

“Oh my God”, the leader of the group spoke, looking through the pictures their manager had just sent them in the shared groupchat. “This is very bad.”

“Is it Samantha in all of them?” Jackson spoke and could not believe what he was seeing.

“Mark will have to make a statement for this shit, there’s no way. Where did these even come from?” Bambam threw his phone on the back seat. “Is it a fact Dispatch is going to publish it?”

“But he’s letting her go, no? So that’s… nothing is good.”

Mark’s phone was left in the backseat of the car, assaulted by messages and calls from their manager. Jinyoung looked out the window at Mark’s back walking away from the van, still stuck upon the striking picture in which Samantha was heatedly kissing the bartender of the club where the group spent their night some weeks before. Where Mark inadvertently met Samantha. Another picture in the deck where a dashing blonde man was sharing laughs with Samantha on the back of a motorcycle. And another one, alongside a charming tall brunette, doting over one another on the golden sands of a foreign beach. “Let’s hope he’s letting her go.”

The walk from the back of the parking lot to the entrance of the main lobby started a high-pitched ringing in Mark’s ears and he could not realize when he was met by the hospital receptionist.

“What can I help you with, sir? Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. Could you page doctor Stoss? I need to talk to her.”

The receptionist was happy to comply with his request and Mark leaned his elbows against the reception counter. There were unusually few people that night in the main lobby of the hospital, keeping the bleak silence of the hospital intact.

“Out of everyone I could have met tonight, I never expected to meet you here.”

Initially, Mark did not recognize the arrogant voice, but when he turned his body to face the owner of that voice, he felt his blood pressure increasing.

“Neither did I, Doctor Carter.” Mark noted, keeping a snarky comment, still a prisoner, under a feigned sense of respect. He was hoping Henry would just leave, albeit highly unlikely.

“I get it, you’re here to see my dear Sam. Heroic, if you ask me. Mark, was it? How important must you singers be.”

The way he was using Samantha’s name was making Mark angry, more than belittling himself. “I didn’t ask. I have nothing to say to you.”

Henry chuckled and fixed the collar of his white coat. Using his analytical and cocky demeanor, Henry was actively looking for ways to assert dominance over Mark. He posed the physical advantages at least. “I have a couple of things to say to you, might as well just listen.”

Mark turned his body fully toward Henry, keeping his stance strong and definitive. Henry arched a curious eyebrow and decided he’d entertain Mark.

“Do go ahead and speak to her while you have the chance. Next time you’d be back, maybe you won’t have it.”

“As if I need any permission to ask of you. You are too self-sufficient to see beyond your shadow.”

Henry laughed yet felt annoyed. He reached into his pocket to reveal a small velvety box to Mark. “When she becomes my wife, you won’t get fifty meters around her shadow.”

The guts of the guy made absolutely no sense to Mark who, out of instinct, just burst out laughing. There was a passer-by, alerted by the bizarre sounds of laughter.

“I don’t know if you’re either too stupid or too delusional but thanks for the laugh.” Mark concluded and threw his hands up in the air in a mocking gesture.

In any other setting, Henry would have grabbed Mark by the collar. He took a step closer to Mark’s silhouette. “Why? Think it is going to be you whom she chooses?”

Undeterred by the feelings of a broken heart twisted by an invisible knife, Mark mirrored Henry’s actions to also take a step forward. “Doesn’t matter who it is going to be but sure as hell it’s not going to be you, doctor. If you can keep calling yourself that.”

“Mark.” Samantha’s voice broke the tension between the two men and caused them to back away from one another. Henry put the velvety box back in the pocket of his coat, regaining his self-confidence. He met Samantha with one of his charming smiles, but she did not pay him any attention. Her eyes were focused on Mark, in a contradiction of happiness and fear. “You paged me, did anything happen to you?”

Mark glanced at Henry, signaling that he wanted to get some privacy with her.

“Let’s go to my office.”

“Will I have the honor to see you a tad later? I’ll get you home.” Henry chirped but Mark and Samantha turned their backs to him. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He finally spoke, unable to acknowledge he was no longer Samantha’s main focal point.

Samantha closed the door of the office behind her in a clumsy motion, struggling to gather the words to speak. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, I thought you were flying out?”

Mark turned to her and voluntarily allowed her to see the sadness and impatience flowing over his face. “I am, the van is parked outside. I wanted to see you one last time.”

Samantha scoffed and suddenly felt like throwing up. She quickly recalled the looming feeling of the morning, Murphy’s refusal to leave Mark’s house. “One last time? You’re coming back soon; we’ll get to see each other again.”

Biting in the plush of his inner cheek, Mark walked towards her and tenderly cupped her face. “I cannot see you again, Sam. We won’t see each other again. I came to say goodbye.”

She shook her head in disbelief, watching Mark with a desolate expression. “What, no, no you can’t. What do you mean goodbye?”

The tear rolling down Samantha’s cheek twisted the knife deeper into Mark’s heart. He guided his thumb to wash it away. “I cannot be with one foot in and have the other ready to go. It’s very, very painful for me, and I can’t force you to love me if you don’t. I tried to be that guy, but I can’t. I want people to see us out in the street holding hands, I want people to hear us when we’re making love and know it’s me in our bed. I want to experience things I’ve never felt before with you. I want to kiss you right in Henry’s fucking face and I want all the love songs I’ll write to have you as their muse. Everyone else fades was about you. I don’t want to see you with anyone but me.”

Mark leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on Samantha’s forehead, his lips finally whispering against skin as he pulled her into him. “I’m so sorry.”

Samantha’s eyes peeled wide open with each sound crossing the barrier of Mark’s lips, with each pulling the rug from under her feet. She did not become aware of when heavy tears flattened against her features, no whimper leaving her chest. The silence was deafening, and Mark was one inch away from slipping into a place where she could not reach. The warmth of Samantha’s tears was flooding into the crook of Mark’s neck, and he had to gather all ounces of strength to keep himself together.

Still, voice was trembling. He wouldn’t wish in his wildest dreams to make her cry, when he convinced himself, he would never. “I have to go, Sam. Please, let me go. I need you to be fine with it, you must be fine with it so I can go.”

No physical counter could account for the pain stacking up in Samantha’s being. Mark placed another butterfly peck on her forehead as he distanced his body from hers, briefly caressing her hand with his. Just as Mark was about to turn the knob of the door, a cry bubbled out from Samantha’s mouth.

“How will I love you if you leave?”

Mark’s fingers froze on the knob, his head jolting back to capture Samantha’s saddened frame. To then face her in utmost distrust. That was no moment for his mind to have him hallucinate. “What did you say?”

The woman faced Mark, repeating the sweet words Mark wished to hear, in the faintest of murmurs. “I love you, Mark.”

A sole tear escaped the chains of Mark’s eyelids, and he approached Samantha carefully, barely grasping the events unfolding. Samantha gathered from behind the thick veil formed on her irises that he was still there, still in her proximity. “I didn’t know I loved you the first time you left a note on my coffee table that you walked Murphy after that heavenly sex. I didn’t acknowledge I loved you when I poured my heart out in the rain to the other side of the world where you were, in New Delhi. I understood I loved you when you said you’d take me with you to see the world. And I felt I loved you when you were running through my fingers last night.”

Mark rushed to envelop her absolute anatomy into his arms, swallowed by the need to feel her every atom at the tips of his fingers. There was no force tempting her to break down crying, she was just silently staring into an empty imperfection in the floor. “I was so afraid you’d leave me.”

“I was so afraid you’d never have me,” Mark countered and buried his face into the crown of her head. “Gosh, I feel like an idiot now.”

“Will you leave me?”

When Samantha gathered the strength to finally make eye contact with Mark, the image of her, with the porcelain skin glowing underneath the cascade of tears, with the glimmer of the eye burning with fear, was alluringly devastating. Samantha was convinced the wound of a bullet wouldn’t hurt as badly as Mark denying their love. It all should have started to fall in place. It all should have started to make sense. She should have thanked every deity the otherworldly coincidence for putting mister Dalton into her path, and she also knew she had a long way of repenting for the hurt she caused to Mark. Part of which he confessed again, one too many times. For all of which, she almost chose to ignore.

Almost is never enough.

“It’s almost been half an hour; we are going to lose our plane.” Jinyoung observed, growing steadily impatient. “Someone should go and get him.”

“I’ll go,” Jackson volunteered, fixing the champagne-colored shirt on his body. “We all know how shit this situation is but you of all people should know not to get mad.”

Jackson hopped off the car, to make his way to the hospital entrance. With the paparazzi resurfacing all of a sudden, he wished to be fast and smooth and not attract any more unwanted attention that would add to the already poor situation. Jackson followed the directions to a corner of the lobby where the management offices were listed and took an elevator to the second floor, in search of Samantha Stoss’ office. A quick question, among his fine features and a gentle smile, was all he needed to locate the room towards the middle of an adjacent corridor. From far away, Jackson noticed two people were coming to the same direction as he was going, a beautiful curly haired woman, and a tall blonde manly figure, both in surgical attire.

The faster they approached, the more he recognized the man was the same in the picture with Samantha, straddling the two wheeled vehicle. Their presences were the sole ones in the corridor. Not the one to jump so quickly to conclusions, Jackson chose to be mindful of the other man’s actions.

“Could we help you with something, sir?” the man spoke, a hint of confusion in his voice as he failed to place Jackson in that scenery. It was clear that he did not know who he was. Not the same could have been said about his companion, whose eyes acknowledged his presence differently from that of a complete stranger.

Leena watched him intently and the virtually unnoticeable gesture of her wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue forced Jackson to linger slightly. “Oh, don’t mind me, thank you. I am here for Doctor Stoss.”

Jonathan quirked his eyebrows. “Samantha is quite popular around these parts. So, I gather there’s someone else besides Mark?”

The last remark was intended more for Leena who reciprocated Jackson’s lingering action. “I am not sure bandmates toss their girls around to one another. Am I wrong?”

Jackson chuckled and Jonathan could not help but feel dissatisfied with the exchange. “Much to my dismay, Mark met Doctor Stoss first. Otherwise, who knows?”

Leena laughed and before Jonathan had the chance to reply, Jackson continued. “Apologies, I wish I had more time to stay, I came to take Mark, so we won’t lose our flight.”

“Mark is here?” Leena followed curiously and watched Jackson extend his hand to open the door. Then, leaning to Jonathan, voice lowering into a whisper, eyes fixated on Jackson’s body dressed elegantly in Louis Vuitton attire. “What if they’re having sex?”

“I’d feel too bad to end the goodbye sex.”

Jackson opened the door to meet a hugging Samantha and Mark. Fully clothed otherwise, Jackson noticed Samantha’s face was smeared with tears and he could only hope Mark made it as easy as possible. The couple quickly pulled apart, and Samantha brought her hands to her eyes, to wipe them. Mark frowned at Jackson, if anything to show genuine confusion.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?”

“I hope you’ve finished breaking up because as of right now, you do not really have any other choice.” Previous chapter Next chapter

[mykoreanlove]

I wanna know everything, all about you

Today was officially one of those days that made you wonder if you somehow turned into the universe’s public enemy. After dodging one catastrophe after the other you plummeted into your office chair, folded your hands above your head and let out a long, deep sigh.

Thoughts of quitting your job and pitying yourself were interrupted by the noise coming from your leather bag. You grabbed your phone and smiled wholeheartedly as you read the name on the screen: Jinyoung.

You wanted nothing more than to leave this shithole behind and jump into his muscular arms venting about the horrible day you had but you were very reluctant to do so. You haven’t been dating for that long and you were still insecure at times, wanting to keep your strong and non-vulnerable image alive. You rarely opened up about heavier topics, let alone cried in front of him. The fear of him leaving you once he figured out that you were no way near perfect was lingering in the back of your mind too often. You shook your body interrupting that train of thought, took a deep breath and answered the call.

Hello?, you said nervously. Jagiya! You felt his smile through the phone which melted your heart instantly. Jinyoung’s smile was the first thing you noticed about him when you two first met that day at the river. It was beyond easy to fall for that smile that turned his deep brown eyes into the shape of crescents, exposing his whiskers and turning him into the most adorable human to ever exist. I miss you. How is your day going?

You gulped. You hated lying, especially to him but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit what was going on. You tried your best to adapt to his chirpy energy and told him that your day was amazing, but full of work. Oh, really? Long night in the office then?

You felt your stomach churn but tried to remain calm. Yeah, there’s still a lot to do. In fact, I think I need to go now. You said your goodbyes and ended the call hastily, feeling worse than before. Since you couldn’t concentrate on work anyways you grabbed your bag and fled out of the office.

You hated lying and you hated your reasons for doing so even more. What kind of girlfriend were you? The kind to always assume the worst, the critical voice in the back of your mind reminded you. A deep sigh left your lips as you made your way home.

Living in Seoul was terrifying yet wonderful at the same time. You loved the architecture – walking through the streets at night was one of your favorite things to do. The city felt vibrant at night, full of lights, full of people. You loved the feeling of getting lost in the masses, of always discovering something new. The thought alone brightened your mood and you automatically found yourself going out the door again, not even bothering to bring your phone with you.

You wandered around aimlessly as you absorbed the lights, sounds and energies of the people around you. For a moment you forgot about the shitty day at work, the way you felt about lying to your boyfriend and all the other troubles occupying your mind. Not long after you came to a stop at your favorite place of the whole city: Han river.

You watched the light’s reflection on the water and relaxed – for the first time today you felt at ease. You sat down on a wooden bench and took it all in when someone sat down next to you.

Y/N.., you turned to your side facing the person next to you. Your eyes widened in shock as you realized who was calling out your name. Jinyoung, you whispered. Wanna explain what you’re doing here? Concerned eyes were looking at you, searching for the truth in your eyes, as well. You looked down at your hands which were folded on your lap, too ashamed to face him. Breathing deeply used to help with holding back tears but this time it failed you. Hey, Jinyoung’s voice softened as he put you into a strong embrace.

You managed to stabilize your breathing which luckily also stopped the crying. Jinyoung took your face into his hands while looking at you with the most loving gaze asking if you were okay. As you nodded your head, he wiped away the last tears and smiled at you. Let’s go, he took your hand in his, helping you to your feet while smiling his most radiant smile. Wha..? Your questioning look got interrupted by his playfulness. You’ll see, and with that he kissed you and dragged you along to his car.

Jinyoung tried to cheer you up on the ride home by telling you lame jokes and quizzing you on the most random stuff. He figured the more absurd, the better – anything really to put a smile on your face. As you both entered his flat you were greeted with the coziest pillow tent you have ever seen. Your eyes widened as you took it all in – several colored pillows, blankets and even fairy lights transformed his living room into a playground for lovers. You felt his breath on your neck as he whispered into your ear, Do you like it?

You turned around and swung your arms around his neck pulling him into a close kiss. I love this, you whispered softly. But why? Jinyoung frowned his forehead and looked at you seriously. He took your hand in his and guided you to the fort taking a seat on the plushy pillows. Y/N, you lied to me earlier, didn’t you? You felt the heat in your cheeks, hating to be confronted like that. You see, when I called you earlier, I could tell that something was wrong. You didn’t sound like yourself, and I sensed that something was troubling you. But you said you were fine. I figured you did not want to talk about it, he faltered, at least not with me. You saw the sadness in his eyes driving you crazy as upsetting him was the last thing you wanted to do. I figured that you needed something to cheer you up, so I built this. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me about it but I still want you to know that I am here for you.

His words touched you in a way you haven’t been touched before which resulted in you crying again. Before he could hug you again you spoke up and explained yourself. When you called earlier,  I wanted nothing more than coming home to you and vent about my stupid day and have you hold me in your strong arms and tell me that everything is going to be okay, you sniffled while looking down at your hands. But I couldn’t. You felt his hand grabbing your chin upwards and now facing him directly. Why not?

You took a deep breath and smiled shyly, because I don’t want you to think less of me. Jinyoung took your hands into his, looking at you dumbfoundedly. Why would I think less of you? 

Because I’m not perfect. I’m flawed. I have shitty days. I get mad. I cry. I feel like a victim and like nothing is going my way and I don’t want you to see me as a failure. I need to be perfect for you. Your eyes widened in shock as you realized what you just had said. Your boyfriend, if you could still call him that, still held your hands lovingly in his. You felt relieved yet at the same time on edge. What if this confession ruined it all? What if this was the end?

Y/N, baby, his eyes almost piercing through you. Are you afraid that I’m gonna leave you because you’re not perfect? Because listen, a broad smile formed on his lips, I’m not perfect, either. I have flaws, too. I have shitty days, too. I get mad, too. And I also feel like a failure at times, but I would never leave you because of that. I don’t need you to be perfect, I need you to be real.

You looked at him with wide eyes, clearly not anticipating this kind of answer. Jinyoung moved closer to you, now whispering almost inaudible, I like you exactly the way you are. In fact, I wanna know everything, all about you. The good, the bad, the ugly – all those things make you you and well, he chuckled, I am hella crazy about you. He leaned in for a kiss, just a pec to see if you were down for it.

When you felt him moving away from you, you grabbed his neck swiftly and pulled him on top of you while simultaneously laying down on the ocean of pillows. The kisses you shared were colored by longing, desperation even. It still frightened you to open up completely, but you were curious about it, too. Something about Jinyoung, the way he cared for you gave you safety. It felt like it was okay to jump because he was there to catch you. You broke the kiss and pushed him away from you. His dark eyes, now even darker filled with lust, looked at you questioningly. How did you find me?

He was now hovering over you leaning on his elbows giving you pecks on your nose. You really have no idea? As he was leaning in for another peck you placed your index finger on his lips. Tell me, loverboy, grinning widely, or no more kisses for you. His eyes widened in shock, Okay, okay, okay. Don’t do this to a man. You both laughed at his overly dramatic expression and then continued to stare into each other’s eyes. I drove over to your apartment because I wanted to kidnap you into my fort, you see. But you didn’t open up. You also didn’t answer your phone which made me think. You looked at him expectedly, surprised by his many efforts. Where would my beautiful girlfriend go when she’s clearly stressed out? He kissed your nose. Where would she go if she needed a place to relax and collect herself? Another peck on your left eye. Where would she hide? Followed by a kiss on your right eye. Since it wasn’t me, I figured that it must be another place that gives you comfort and security. And if I were in your shoes, I would have gone to Han river because to me that’s what that place represents.

You looked at him doubtingly. It does? Jinyoung smiled again, Yes, at Han river I found the thing that gives me the most comfort and security. That’s where I found, you interrupted him by blurting out ME!