#neighbor!jinyoung

[frostedshore]

𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙮

𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲 (wip) | 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀

𝙂𝙚𝙣 𝟭: 𝙁𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙖 𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙚

"𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐒𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲!"

Accused of disseminating fake news about the identity of Claire Ursine's baby daddy.

Fell in love with the town's playboy, Kim Jinyoung, who knocked her up.

Jinyoung was a walking red flag. He gave her flowers on her first day in sunset valley & was love bombing her. But once they woohoo he autonomosly started yelling at Farasha lol

Farasha lied & claimed the baby daddy was the hot neighbor's because Jinyoung left her for Tori Kimura. Antonio, the hot neighbor, immediately proposed to her & they got married.

Because Farasha Blue was too wicked, I cursed her with the Misfortune last name & all of her heirs needs to pay the price. Parent's debt needs to be paid by their offsprings, right?😈

Once she was an elder, she divorced Antonio who she never loved in the first place and married Jinyoung through story progression. This girl is evil to the bone!

NEXT UP: 𝙂𝙚𝙣 2: 𝙉𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙚 (wip)

[pantoneyoongi]

the sun & the stars | 01 | kth

title ; the sun & the stars pairing ; taehyung x you

word count ; 5.4k

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

description ; 

taehyung’s known you almost his whole life - his sister’s best friend, the girl who invades his home and his life on the daily. you’re the one who gave his sister the nickname ‘sky’ to begin with - and also the one who relented when he whined about it at age five and said okay, you can be the stars, then. 

it’s funny, because to him, you’re just the petty, mischievous neighbor from across the street with a penchant for stealing his snacks. but over the years, you’ve somehow landed yourself a reputation that stretches beyond the 1.5 year age gap he has with you - for someone who generally likes to keep things low key, you sure have a way of drawing attention. 

sky’s friendly, teasing best friend is known for being cold, impassive, and immovable. which is weird, because when he’s around you, all he sees are unabashed grins and terrible jokes. until he realizes maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. maybe they’re right - it just so happens that the walls you throw up around him look a little different from the walls you throw up around everyone else. 

tracklist ; willow - taylor swift, give me your forever - zack tabudlo ft. billkin, limbo - keshi

notes ; 

ok so i don’t have a masterlist for this yet but this is going to be part of a universe called the sun & the sky universe, about two besties and their love lives and friendship and originally it was supposed to be a one-shot for each character but i have spiraled wildly out of control and now this character (sun) has a mini-series, oops. 

anyway this is the first installation in the sun & the sky universe and eventually i will get around to making a masterpost. thank u for reading !! 

tags ; college!au, best friend’s little brother!au, childhood friends to lovers, you have a cold/ice princess reputation, angst, fluff, mentions of absent parents and financial instability, you’re referred to as ‘sun’, taehyung’s sister referred to as ‘sky’, mentions of some dude being kinda pushy at the beginning, some business major slander (sorry) (sort of), there will be pov switches later, there will also be seokjin slander (he’ll deserve it unfortunately i��m so sorry), slow burn?? i think??, brief mentions of infidelity at some point later too, honestly this whole fic is probably more about friendships than it is about romance but anyways, yes this is the fic that i wrote 10k for and then randomly decided to rewrite the entire thing bc i have no control over my life thank u very much, anyway here it is i hope u like it 

to be very clear: you don’t like freshmen. 

irritation crawls up your spine, and you spare just enough time to glance both ways before crossing the street to reach your friend, who looks increasingly uncomfortable. she’s already backed up enough that she’s only centimeters from the wall behind her, which, in case the relief on her face at the sight of you didn’t already spell it out, tells you plenty enough that this one’s persistent and unwelcome. 

“hey.” you don’t raise your voice when you reach them. you generally make it a point not to expend more energy than absolutely necessary, but particularly when it comes to men, and especially when they’re harassing your best friend. you hardly look his way, instead speaking to your friend with a tilt of your head towards the campus dining hall. “let’s go.” 

jinyoung calls you blunt and a little rude (affectionate), but you prefer the terms ‘concise’ and ‘clear’. as in, you are concisely and clearly indicating the freshman should leave. you know, something about a-b conversations and how he should c his way out. 

your shoulders raise ever so slightly when, predictably, the freshman opens his mouth to argue. that’s the thing about freshmen. and transfers. and men who don’t know what’s good for them: they don’t know you, and they don’t know your reputation, and that causes more problems than you care to deal with. 

lucky for him, he happens to know someone who’s been out of the womb for longer than the ten seconds this kid appears to have been. in your peripheral, you watch the freshman get yanked back by a junior you think might’ve been in one of your roman history lectures last semester. “what the fuck is wrong with you,” he hisses to his friend, eyes darting nervously between the boy and you. his voice raises to normal speaking levels. “i’m so sorry. he’s so sorry for bothering you,” and then he’s dragging the kid away with hushed, frantic whispers. you watch them cross the street and head down and away, before turning back to your friend. 

“you good, sky?” 

she gives you a half-smile. “i’d be better with food in me.” 

your lips twitch, and you sling an arm over her shoulders, tugging her through the dining hall doors. “good thing that’s what we’re here for.” 

.

.

.

your reputation is more tall tale than fact, but you let it carry you through the four years of high school and now clean through your four years of college, too. for a group of students who are so rarely capable of meeting your eyes, they speak fairly condescendingly about you. it probably has a lot to do with the ‘sun’ nickname, seeing as it just seems laughable to associate the most well-known star in the galaxy with you. 

you’re not warm. you don’t light up a room. none of the good cliches line up with you, and to most people, the nickname is more irony than anything else. but you didn’t get the nickname from them, you got it from sky, shortly after you gave her hers when you were seven. 

(seven year old you was a lot friendlier.)

your eyes slide closed, chin propped against your palm as you wait at the lunch table. sky is grabbing food while you save the table, waiting for her brother and his partner in crime to show up. 

the four of you grew up on the same street - sky and taehyung in the house across from you, and jimin a couple doors down. jimin and taehyung are technically the same age, the way you and sky are too, but taehyung’s birthday is so late in the year that he’s two grades below you instead of just one. they say you and sky have been inseparable since day one, but taehyung and jimin must be conjoined at the hip - you don’t find one without seeing the other. 

you feel someone brush past you, a hand hovering by your head, but before it can nudge you, you say with closed eyes, “watch it, kid.” 

your eyes flutter open, finding jimin pouting in front of you, hand returning to his side. “how’d you know it was me?” 

“who else would dare?” you arch an eyebrow, and he sucks his teeth, dropping into the seat diagonal from you. taehyung takes the seat to your left, nodding his head in greeting towards you. 

your lips quirk to the side. “do i not deserve the honor of your voice today, taetae?” you give him doe eyes, just to watch him scowl at you. 

growing up with taehyung and sky right across the street from you meant watching taehyung turn from an adorable toddler, to a mildly annoying child, into a definitely annoying teenager. this also included a two year stint in which taehyung refused to speak to you (or in general, really), only making vague grunting noises and giving you curt nods in an attempt to come off as stoic and brooding. 

(as a shock to no one: it was ineffective as far as ‘stoic’ and ‘brooding’ go.) 

ever since he decided to grace you with his voice again, you take any chance to remind him of it. you grin wickedly as he lolls his head back with a groan. “i was shy,” he protests, bordering on a whine. 

you scoff. “i’ve known you since you were three, fuck outta here,” you cuff him lightly upside the head, taehyung’s lower lip jutting out at the action. “you were just an angsty teenager.” 

sky makes her appearance at that moment, setting her tray down. “can confirm,” she agrees with zero proper context. “you were just an angsty teenager.” 

taehyung huffs. you poke your tongue against your cheek, amusement lighting your eyes. he tries to glare but taehyung’s always been a little soft on you, even if he won’t admit it. he marks defeat with a switch in subject. “you look tired.” 

you sputter out a laugh. “i’m a college student,” you smack his shoulder lightly. “i always look tired.” you redirect your attention back to jimin and sky, joining the conversation they’d started, but taehyung stays quiet, studying you. eventually he gets up to grab food, jimin following after him, but you opt to just lay your head against your forearm, letting sky pat your head sympathetically. 

you raise your head only when the boys return, eyes widening slightly in surprise when taehyung comes back with two trays, sliding one in front of you wordlessly. “you raised him well,” jimin sighs dramatically to sky. “treats his elders with respect.” 

“that makes one of you,” you quip, just as sky goes, “are you calling me an elder?” 

the two of you burst into laughter at the look on jimin’s face, halfway between being offended by you and defensive against sky, and while you’re busy teasing jimin, you don’t notice taehyung watching you, wondering how anyone can see you as cold and standoffish, not when he sees you like this, voice loud and eyes crinkled in the corners, always the brightest whenever you make the people you love and care about laugh. they say you’re cruel and unforgiving, but he’s known you for years and he doesn’t really feel like you’ve changed much - still wildly dramatic and bitingly sarcastic - and also apparently still endlessly prone to stealing food from him and sky, he thinks dryly, as he throws you a dirty look for snagging a french fry off his plate despite having your own. 

you smile pretty at him. “sharing is caring, taetae.” 

he can’t retort when you blink your eyes at him like that because there’s just no winning when it comes to you. all he can do is let out a deep sigh and fight the smile making its way onto his face when your laughter chimes in his ear. 

.

.

.

“what if,” you start, just for jinyoung to cut you off. 

“no.” 

you throw the towel down onto the table, affronted. “you didn’t let me finish.” 

he stares flatly at you, then makes a jerky, ‘go-ahead’ gesture with his hand. 

“what if,” you start again, pointing your finger at him. “i drop out of school-” 

“what if,” jinyoung smiles like he’s got knives for teeth. “i get you fired?” 

you scrunch your nose. “then i’d be young, dumb, and broke.” 

“just like all the cool kids,” jinyoung sighs, clearly not giving a fuck. “hurry up, we got company.” 

the bell above the restaurant door rings as probably an entire fraternity funnels in, forty-five minutes before your shift ends. “perfect,” you mutter, picking up your towel again, scrubbing the table clean while jinyoung puts on a (notably knifeless) smile for your customers. the closing shift can never end quietly, always some group coming in last minute to interrupt your peaceful night. you always know jinyoung happens to like you because he sidles up to the group with his full charm and a notepad, ready to take orders, letting you slink off to the back to finish cleaning up so the two of you can get out of here as quickly as possible as soon as the sign flips to ‘closed.’ 

jinyoung returns to the back to rattle off orders five minutes later, then leans with his back to the counter as you rinse dishes to put into the industrial dishwasher. “you should stop taking extra shifts. your eyebags have eyebags,” he informs you, as gently as he can. you glance at him, wondering if it’s worth it to flick him with water. but you know he’s just trying to be nice, so you opt against it. 

you suck in a breath, setting another dish down onto the rack. “i can’t,” you shrug. “i am, in fact, young, dumb, and broke.” 

he presses his lips together in a non-smile. like you, jinyoung is here on scholarship and part of the pity-party program your school has for kids who meet the criteria of “too poor to afford higher education.” you met him in said program over the summer, when you were all forced to come in for summer classes, just in case you came from a district without sufficient resources to teach you calculus. 

he runs a tired hand through his hair, offering you a small smile before heading out with an array of dishes balanced impressively on his arm. the frat has approximately twenty minutes to shovel it all down before the restaurant officially calls it lights out. you have no doubts they’ll make it with time to spare. 

you flip the settings for the dishwasher and let it run, tugging off your gloves and wandering towards the front. absently, you stare out the glass that makes up the storefront, eyes nearly glazing over until you spot them - your head lifting slowly as you lean forward a little to squint. 

she’s a little too far out, but the person heading down the street looks an awful lot like sky, flanked by someone who looks half a foot taller than her, which is saying something, considering sky is half a foot taller than you. your head tilts, curious, but by the time you’ve blinked enough times to get your vision back in focus, they’re out of sight. 

shaking it off, you check the clock to see that you’re ten minutes to closing, confirmed by the way you hear the frat boys noisily filing back out just the way they came in. jinyoung’s eyes meet yours and you give a tired nod, the two of you working in tandem to clear the remaining dishes to finish cleaning up and close up shop. 

jinyoung bids you goodbye outside the restaurant with a pat on the shoulder, parting ways. it’s late, little ways past ten at night, and you slump your shoulders as you trudge down the street back to your apartment. 

you take a half step back when taehyung’s face suddenly appears in front of yours, familiar dark eyes peering at you. he’s got his hands in his pockets and he’s bent over slightly to meet your height, and you frown at him. “what are you doing here?” 

“jimin dragged me out,” he explains, straightening back up. “but now they’re getting drunk, so.” 

of the four of you, jimin’s always been the only one with anything close to a social life. he parties, he drinks, he gets hungover, and then he gets straight a’s. go figure. 

you hum, the two of you falling into step together. the silence is comfortable, padded with the general ruckus of the downtown, cars speeding past and drunk students being rowdy. you make your way back to the main streets on campus, taehyung slowing his steps to match your snail pace. 

“sun,” he breaks the quiet between you. you look at him. 

he opens his mouth to speak, but there’s only empty air, the words dying on his tongue when he sees how dull your eyes look after a long shift. your eyes have always sparkled, glinting with trouble and quick wit, so it sort of stings to see the light fade out with how weary you are. 

���never mind,” he smiles, tilting his chin towards your building’s front door. “we’re here.” 

you look confused but don’t press the matter, patting him on the arm with a warm smile. “get back safe. thanks for walking me home, tae.” you tip-toe to ruffle his hair, like you always have, despite the near foot of height he now towers over you with, then disappear into your building without a second glance back. 

taehyung sighs, hand absently pressed to the spot where you’d touched his arm. he knows your smile better than anyone else’s, that dazzling grin of yours that you reserve only for your closest friends. even when taehyung went through his brooding phase, you always offered it out to him with a friendly wave. 

the campus might not understand the nickname ‘sun,’ but taehyung knows it suits you perfectly. 

.

.

.

“am i still allowed to live in your basement if i fail out of college?” 

you punctuate the end of your question by dropping the bag of take-out you brought with you onto the table, though the end of your sentence sort of peeters off a little when you realize there’s someone else departing the table, a low voice murmuring a goodbye to your friend. you don’t catch his face before his tall frame walks away, but your brows furrow, puzzled. you don’t recognize him. 

“i think you’d live in my basement regardless of what i say,” sky responds, seemingly unaware of your perplexion. “but unfortunately you’re not allowed to fail out of college.” 

your eyes are still on the man who’d just left, even as you pull out the take-out and hand it over to sky. you’re tempted to ask, but when you glance back at her, she has an unnervingly neutral expression on her face, and you falter, deciding to drop it. 

sky likes to keep her circle small. most of the time it’s just you, jimin, and taehyung, though both of you do still keep in touch with yoongi and hoseok from high school, and there is that one girl from her major, soojung. but for the most part, sky prefers keeping to herself, so much so that on occasion she’ll just drop off the grid without any warning. you suppose you’re like her in that way, though her version of dropping off the grid is usually more accidental (read: a new video game came out and she forgot she has to remind people she’s alive) whereas yours tends to be very intentional (read: you’re overwhelmed and so much as seeing or interacting with another person could equate to a new, special kind of torture, built explicitly for you). 

you slide on a smile for her, settling down into your seat. “eat,” you gesture. “need at least one of us to make it past graduation if i’m gonna live in your basement.” 

as sky tucks in, absently scrolling through her phone, your mind wanders. it’s not that you need to know every last detail of sky’s life, but she’s your best friend, and it just tends to happen, anyway. sky’s life is so heavily interwoven with yours, since you were five and moved into the house across the street from hers, and she let you into her home like you’d always belonged there. 

then again, that was a boy you’d seen walking away. your eyes shift back to sky, who isn’t paying you much mind, and you look away again. the truth is, the tightly bound friendship you hold with sky feels as fragile as it does indestructible, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

.

.

.

food is your love language. giving it, receiving it, whatever the case is - it’s love. it might also be your sole motivator for doing just about anything, but that’s besides the point. 

you use food as a means of taking care of the people around you. it’s not exactly a flashy show of affection, but you don’t have a particularly heartwarming vocabulary, or the disposition to shower people in your affection, so this is what you do. most people seem to take the hint. you figure that’s why taehyung puts up with you on at minimum a weekly basis, grabbing a meal together whenever he’s free. 

today, he’s seated at your kitchen counter, glancing around your apartment like he hasn’t been here a million times before. you set your ever-gourmet pot of instant noodles down on top of a pot holder. “ta-da,” you beam at him, waving your hands dramatically. “my specialty.” 

“you treat me so well,” he says dryly, but his eyes are affectionate and he’s still picking up his chopsticks almost immediately, tongue poking out at the corner of his lips in anticipation. you press your lips together to hide a smile, watching him gather noodles, messily sucking them into his mouth, flicking soup everywhere. 

you click your tongue a little but don’t nag, though the look you give him makes him settle down a little, chewing slower and acting at least somewhat more like a civilized human being. he looks properly chastised, and the corner of your lips lift in a small smirk of amusement. 

the two of you eat quietly, taehyung because he’s always been quiet and you because you’re lost in thought, enough so that you forget to entertain taehyung the way you usually do (read: complain about almost every class you’re in and lament your age, as if you’re anything more than a year and a half older than taehyung, max). your eyes are distant, chopsticks absently picking up noodles to eat, on autopilot. 

you glance back to taehyung, who doesn’t seem to mind your quiet. he’s used to your noise, but you suppose at some point he also grew used to your quiet, too. maybe that’s just what decade-long friendships are like. you learn the usuals, the unusuals, and all of the in between. 

teeth gnawing at your lower lip, you wonder if he knows about the guy who’s been hovering around sky. this guy who sky doesn’t want to introduce to you, not yet, which means he’s important enough to her that she cares whether you meet him or not. whether because your opinion matters or because of something else, you haven’t figured out yet. 

taehyung’s eyes rise to meet yours, chopsticks halfway to his mouth when he sees the way you gaze at him thoughtfully, head tilted to the side. your brows are drawing in, and he wants to press his fingers to the crease in the middle, undo the tension, but instead he just asks, “something up?” 

you hesitate. for just a fraction of a second, but he catches it. because that’s what decade-long friendships are like. but you’re too quick for him to push it, too easily pull on a smile and reach over to tug on his ear like he’s still a child, nagging at him. “i’m fine,” you admonish. “don’t you worry about me, kid.” 

he grumbles something incoherent and swats at your hand, grumbles bordering on whines when you don’t let up, until he catches you grinning at him, mischievous as ever. you retract your hand, satisfied by the grumpy look on his face, though your smile falters a little when you see that it’s not enough to wipe the worry in his eyes. 

you focus on your food instead, just so you can avoid that look. but you can still feel him staring at you, like he’s waiting for you to give in to him, so you lift your head back up with a beam and start rattling off, extensively, until he loses that look in his eyes. until he’s back to just regular taehyung, sky’s little brother taehyung, neighbor from across the street taehyung, and not grown-up taehyung, walks you home taehyung, eats with you weekly because he doesn’t want you to be lonely taehyung. 

you’re not ready to admit it. taehyung’s only gotten more handsome and charming in his own right over the years. it makes it so that you can’t stand the way that he looks at you sometimes, like he can see right through you. 

he’s not supposed to. he’s taehyung. he’s part of your safe, little bubble; the one you built, where the sun can only shine. 

.

.

.

waking up is such a miserable experience, you muse. 

it’s ass o’clock in the morning. honestly, any time you need to wake up before noon is ass o’clock, but you have to study for your exams and you have a help desk shift later too, so unfortunately, 7am it is. 

you force yourself to roll out of bed, look vaguely human-shaped (aka: wear respectable enough clothes), and lug yourself to the library. you could study in your room but you’re a weak bitch and the bed being two feet away is too strong a temptation. therefore: library. 

you find a corner to hide away in, scribbling away in your notebook in hopes of retaining an ounce of the information you’ve written down. the hours pass like that, and by some miracle, you don’t develop a stress-induced headache by the time you need to leave for your shift. 

you toss your belongings into your backpack, tugging it onto your back, a quite physical reminder of the weight on your shoulders. 

you don’t necessarily think that life is unkind to you. you just think everyone gets dealt their deck of cards, and yours happens to be slightly shittier. but hey, if you’re broke enough, you get free housing at the nicest set of apartments on campus, so you win some, you lose some, right? 

the losing part right now is the multi-set of jobs running you into the ground. between the restaurant, your help desk job, and the work-study program, it’s a miracle you haven’t failed any of your courses. 

you heave a sigh, letting yourself feel bad about it for a minute. you deserve at least that, in the quiet of the library this early in the morning, while most of campus is happily sleeping in on a saturday. 

‘most’ is the key word here. you should’ve known your best friend has the integrity of a monk, seeing as she’s at the library at nearly 10am on a weekend. 

you slink your way over to her, sneaking up behind her and slinging an arm over her shoulder, mouth already open to whisper-shout her name - that is, up until you spot the man standing before her. 

the smile slides off your face immediately. for someone at his towering size, he’d been pretty well hidden behind the shelves. he looks suspiciously close in height to the person you’d seen that night at the restaurant, and the other day when you’d brought sky lunch. 

he smiles politely at you, dimples denting in his cheeks. your frown deepens. you’re certain now, that you don’t recognize him in your catalog of sky’s acquaintances, and she seems comfortable around him, much more than she is around any of her classmates. 

“hi, sun,” sky greets, gentle smile rising to her lips, though you’re too busy sizing up this guy she’s talking to. he’s sort of huge. he has kind eyes, though, hair swept off to the side, white tee tucked loosely into light colored jeans. but you still stand wary, too familiar with boys who have sweet dispositions and not enough good intentions. 

see, the first thing anyone notices about sky is that she’s nice. 

well, okay. the first thing most people notice about sky is that she’s pretty. elegant, like she was a princess in some past life, between her perpetual good posture (what college student do you know that isn’t hunched over like a gremlin at least 73% of the time?) and perfectly set hair, not a strand out of place. she’s pretty, in a way that carries into her personality, patient and open. she’s always listened to whatever blown-out-of-proportion story you have for her, letting you drag her into any and all of your bad ideas, no matter the consequences. 

the point is that sky holds the sort of kindness that knows no boundaries. she’s content to go with the flow, and despite all the times she’s been let down by passing acquaintances who you’ve ensured can no longer call her a friend, she’s still willing to help. she gives out second, third, fourth chances, doesn’t let the hurt get in the way of her ability to care. 

her walls don’t go up as high as yours do. so you make every effort to make sure that the people who take advantage of that never get a chance to hurt her. 

“who’s this?” 

sky blinks, looking between you and him. christ, he is massive. his biceps are probably the size of your head. 

you mostly keep your eyes on him, but turn to glance at sky when she takes a minute longer than usual to answer. she looks a bit startled, like she’s just now realizing you’re actually here; moreover, that you don’t know who her new friend is. 

“oh,” she says, lips turning downwards a little, conflicted. something inside you flinches. but then her expression clears and she smiles. “this is namjoon. we have class together.” 

namjoon lifts a hand to wave even while you’re narrowing your eyes at him. but still, your hands return to your pockets and you take a step back, forcing your stiff shoulders to lower. 

you’re intruding, you realize. sky is having a moment with this tall, handsome person who could probably twist you into a pretzel if he wanted to, and you’re intruding. 

a weight sits on your chest at the realization, but you force a smile to your face for sky. you and your reputation and your trust issues need to step out of this. 

“i.. i gotta get to work,” you say, anxious hands tugging at your backpack straps just for something to hold onto. “i just popped by ‘cause i saw you.” you glance towards namjoon, trying your best to maintain the smile you generally reserve only for close friends, but it turns too quickly into a grimace so you settle for a curt nod of acknowledgement, before lifting a hand to sky. “see you ‘round.”

you pretend not to notice how sky’s expression falters, heading out without turning around once. the discomfort rolls over in you, pulling at your heart, keeping your shoulders tense. 

the way sky looks at namjoon is different. you can tell. two minutes in the same space, and you know sky isn’t just being polite like she was raised to be. she’s content to be around him, their eyes darting to meet each other in quick glances, like it’s difficult to let their gazes stray for too long. 

namjoon doesn’t give you any immediate warning signs, and sky’s gotten a lot better at picking her friends. you don’t have to protect her, she’s perfectly capable of it herself. but you still feel wary, still worry that dimpled, unassuming namjoon will fuck her over like any number of people have in the past. 

including you, your brain reminds you. you’re the worst one. 

your heart tightens in your chest and you shoulder your way out the doors of the library, like barreling into something will shake off the memory any easier. 

high school is hard for anyone. emotions are at all time highs; everything feels like it’s high stakes. grades, friendships, romances. everything is always, constantly, on the line. 

sky always says it’s not your fault. kim seokjin was not your fault. you were teenagers - kids, really - but no matter how she spins it, you know you’re the one who messed up. even if sky doesn’t blame you, you still do. 

how are you supposed to trust your instincts, when the last time you let your guard down for a boy with a disarming smile, he hurt not only you, but your best friend? 

sky’s your most important person. her family was there when no one else was, and they didn’t ask questions, either. you don’t think you’ll forgive yourself for letting her down once, and you know you can’t afford to let it happen again. no matter how many times sky says you’ve never had anything to apologize for. 

you’re so lost in your own head that you almost bump into someone, so wound up that you nearly fire off immediately before realizing it’s taehyung standing in front of you, looking equal parts amused and concerned. “i think i know what they mean now when they say, ‘blaze a path,’” he muses, and you scoff at him, shoving him to the side without any real force. 

“walking with purpose is not what that metaphor means, tae,” you keep marching forward, not bothering to check if he’s matching pace. he’s got long legs, he’ll be fine. “‘blazing a path’ means-” 

“sun,” taehyung interrupts, voice low enough that you actually stop lecturing him. his voice softens a little. “you alright? you look like-” 

you don’t let him finish, nor give him the courtesy of even a glance his way. “i’m dandy, taetae. just going to my nine to five.” 

“you don’t have a nine to five. you’re a student.” 

“good job, einstein. wanna tell me how the sky is blue, too?” 

“sun.” 

you know you’re being curt. you’re lashing out at the wrong person and you stop in your steps to breathe in deeply, exhaling slowly. 

“i’m just tired,” you finally spare him a look. you sigh. “i’m sorry. but i really do have to go to work, and if i don’t haul ass, i’m gonna be late.” 

he looks at you like he doesn’t believe you, but you both know he’s going to drop it. “you should sleep more,” he settles on. you know he’s about to lecture you with a series of hard facts. “people need eight hours-” 

you smirk at him, “you know damn well there’s not a single college student out there getting eight hours of sleep.” 

he shrugs. “maybe the business majors?”��

you snort. “no. they’re out partying.” 

he snaps his fingers. “right. forgot about those.” 

“you can forget about parties when your best friend is jimin?” you ask in mock amazement. he scoffs out a laugh in return. 

“shut up, sun. i’m serious, you need more sleep. you look like death.” 

“oooh,” you tease. “you really know how to make a girl feel pretty.” 

taehyung turns his gaze skyward, and you know he’s asking some higher being for the patience to put up with you. you snicker, patting him on the arm. “you’ll get it when you’re older,” you blink forlorn eyes at him, smile overly sympathetic. he scowls back. you make a vague attempt at hiding your amusement, but otherwise continue towards the office, taehyung keeping you company. he doesn’t say anything else, just walks with you. you don’t ask where he was supposed to be headed before you bumped into him, and he doesn’t tell you, either. 

it’s when you’re almost at the door that you break your silence, that nagging feeling pulling and pulling at you until you crack. “hey,” you spin towards him, stopping in your tracks right in front of the building. “do you know a namjoon?” 

he tilts his head, surprised. “namjoon? yeah, he’s like uhh,” taehyung pauses to think. “i think he was sky’s project partner or something, and now they’re pretty good friends. they have class together. why?” 

you make a noncommittal noise. “nothing. just saw them together earlier. sky’s never brought him up before.” 

you try not to think too hard at the way taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up. it’s a sign that you’re not overthinking this, that it is weird that sky never mentioned him, because sky tells you everything. 

but she didn’t tell you about namjoon. 

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Five

Hello everyone!! Long time no see, indeed! I must say I hit writer's block these days but in no way did I abandon this story. Even more so now, when I am so eager to continue. This chapter will bring you spicy surprises and turning points ^^. Enjoy!

~6k words, angst, smut

I want to make you forget about that ex. In truth, I loved the idea of you overthinking all your texts. And I wanted all your neighbors to hear you yell when we have sex. I don’t want it to be a problem when we come together. And I don’t want us a secret.

Jackson plopped down on Mark’s couch, still carrying a serious look of disbelief on his face. “Look, I agree but Bambam literally said what we all thought. Collectively.”

Mark rolled his eyes at Jackson’s remark. He was searching for another song in his playlist to play on his vintage stereo system.

“I think we were more shocked to meet her like that,” Jinyoung continued, leaning against an empty small table in the living room. “Showing up at our studio.”

“And in that motorcycle jacket? Take my money. Did you know she had a bike?” Jackson put a hand dramatically over his chest.

Mark nodded. “Yeah, saw it first time I went to her house.”

“Living the dream. Hottest date, to ride the bikes together around town.”

“Could you stop fantasizing on my behalf?” Mark chuckled in Jackson’s direction and the latter laughed at the note. Mark then turned to Jinyoung, who was cocking an eyebrow. “I had no idea she would come to the studio, believe me. I wanted you to meet her under different circumstances.”

Jinyoung crossed his arms over his chest, a playful look in his eye. “You never told us why you came so early from your date.”

“Yeah, cause it wasn’t a date.” Mark commented and the other two men almost simultaneously turned to him. “Had the surprise to see her with another man.”

The playful look disappeared from Jinyoung’s expression. “You’d have to elaborate on that.”

“I can’t really elaborate, I didn’t stay around enough to see what happened next.” Mark shrugged his shoulders. “The guy had her backed against the lockers, a hand holding her cheek. It was not the first time he… they did that. It was the reason Sam came to the studio.”

“To explain.” Jinyoung completed, albeit not in agreement with the situation. “And what’s your take on that?”

Truth was, Mark did not have an exact answer to Jinyoung’s inquiry. Sure, the scenery of Samantha being present in the proximity of another man displeased and hurt Mark. He built some expectations for the two of them, carried away by their unquestionable synergy, and by the trust exuded by Samantha at every small dare or challenge presented by Mark. He believed in her words, and more than anything he believed in her. Mark believed in Samantha when she said she missed him, when she confided in him, when she said there would not be another guy. So, he put in the effort to carry himself in such a manner that would make Samantha desire him even more. At some point, Mark considered trying to have the talk with her, to play with his cards on the table, to build trust in them as more than just an arrangement.

At the very end, Samantha never promised anything, she never drew the line. Mark did not have it in him to throw the bouquet of the flowers he handpicked in the trash. But he was not indifferent to the image of her subjugated by the intimacy of another that was not him.

“I’ll hear her out.” Mark said lastly, seating himself by Jackson on the couch. A short quirk of the eyebrows as Jinyoung opted to simply nod his head.

“If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jackson chuckled. “If you wanted us to actually believe you, you should have used your acting skills at least.”

“Why? Not that convincing?”

Mark agreed with Jackson. “We’ve known each other 12 years. It takes so much more than that.”

The three of them laughed. Truly, a bond that not many people get to have in a lifetime. And Mark knew Jinyoung, as much as everyone else, was looking out for him.

“If you have something to say, just say it.”

Jinyoung sighed and threw his hands in the air. “Look, I know, a good-looking, bike-riding, smart surgeon woman, who has a mysterious aura about herself. I’d be a hypocrite to say I wouldn’t get interested.”

“You know what he’s gonna say.” Jackson extended an arm over the backrest of the couch.

“All I’m saying is that, given the circumstances, I wouldn’t be happy at all. If a guy touched or held the girl I liked like that.”

All eyes were focused on Mark.

“But why don’t you talk to her and set the record straight? I’m all for explaining,” Jackson shifted his body to face Mark, “but if you told her, you liked her beyond just the sex, at least you’d know it’s either this or that.”

Jinyoung moved his hands in a gesture that indicated he agreed with Jackson. And Mark agreed with them, too. In any given situation, he would be the type of man to express his wishes and voice his wants and needs. Mark did not necessarily like the chasing. Within his chest, he knew why he was still playing the game and why he did not walk away the second he saw Samantha with the stranger man who was playing with his mind. Regardless, Mark let the little evil elves whispering in his ear take the reins of reasoning. The bell of the front door started ringing vigorously.

“It’s complicated.” Mark rose from the couch. “It’s also Samantha at the door,” said he, half-doubtful he spoke the words to convince himself it truly was her at the door. When he opened it, he actually made sure of it.

Samantha looked very different since the morning visit to the studio. The commanding behavior softened to a natural feminine aura, the sun-kissed freckles no longer hidden behind foundation accompanied by the mellow smile she had the day they met, everything stunned Mark.

Samantha felt very different.

“Hey, beautiful.” Mark welcomed Samantha with an observation he’d hoped was as visible to her as much as it was to him. Mark was distracted by the lively bark of Murphy, eagerly anticipating a welcome as warm as his mother’s. So, he obliged, the smile sketched on his face growing as he knelt to ruffle Murphy’s fur.

Samantha followed Mark’s carefree movements with warmth coloring her features. She didn’t know what to expect from him; all that she hoped was that Mark wouldn’t look at her with repulsion. Instead, Samantha was met by the same jovial Mark she’d met the very first time. And it scared Samantha that Mark felt very different since morning, all the same.

Did he care, still?

“Hey, yourself.” Samantha replied and watched as he straightened his body to meet her eyes. How much did she wish that that would’ve been their reunion, that he’d plant a kiss on her lips and circle his arms around her frame in a longing embrace. Suddenly, Mark felt so far apart.

“Come in.”

Mark pushed the door open and guided Samantha into the living room. She noticed two very familiar silhouettes, Jackson as he was putting his leather vest on, and Jinyoung as he was gathering his things. Murphy’s little woofs distracted the two men into looking at the source of sound, smiling at the little creature. Eyes speedily travelled to Samantha’s physique, and both greeted her with a smile. Perhaps Jackson’s more expressive. He was the first one to formally introduce himself. There was a lively song playing in the background.

“I’m Jackson, nice to meet you, finally.”

Samantha prevented her eyes from widening. Maybe Mark did speak about her. She took Jackson’s hand and shook it, enjoying his amiability.

“Likewise, Jackson. I truly hope you didn’t think I was a freak or anything.” Samantha offered a smile of her own eliciting a chuckle from the other. She caught Jinyoung in the corner of her eye as he examined her. Not blatantly, yet not covertly either. Samantha wondered what they both thought about her.

“Far from that,” Jinyoung chimed in, giving his own hand for a greeting, “but you definitely incited the collective curiosity.”

Samantha took the invitation, meeting Jinyoung halfway. Out of everyone, she figured he was the toughest to impress. And on good merit, nonetheless. “I wouldn’t say about myself that I’m an open book but please know I’m more than happy to clear the curiosities.”

The corner of Jinyoung’s lips lifted in a modest smirk. “Maybe I’ll heed the invitation.”

Jackson cleared his throat and Jinyoung pulled back. “Don’t worry about us, we were just leaving.”

“No bother at all. I wouldn’t want us to be so formal, it was very nice meeting you both.” Samantha extended her hands to offer the two men a warm wave and a small dip of her head. Jackson and Jinyoung both did the same, the last action they made prior to heading out the door. “Likewise, Samantha”.

Mark’s loud sigh doubled the echo of the closing door which caused Samantha to fiddle with her fingers. “I must have made a terrible impression, haven’t I? They definitely think I’m a freak.”

“Nope, no freak,” Mark turned around to walk toward Samantha’s direction. As he was approaching, he was unzipping his hoodie. “They just don’t know you. Actually, Jackson was quite smitten with you, I could swear he’d want to steal you for himself.”

It was the first time Mark had openly spoken about his members, even more so about anything that had to do with their opinion about her. Mark’s words were not reassuring enough for Samantha as eyes were still focused on her nervous fingers. She didn’t know what to make of the entire situation. “Jinyoung doesn’t like me.”

Mark grabbed at the hem of his T-shirt to throw it over his head. A bracelet at his wrist was tangling loosely when he guided Samantha’s chin to make her look at him. “Out of all of us, Jinyoung is the one who doesn’t play games when it comes to people. You have to make him trust you before he lets you in."

The initial nervousness Samantha felt while fidgeting with her fingers transformed into butterflies into her stomach. Although the main emotion she was feeling was uneasiness, at his words, and at his sudden naked torso. She had but a moment to watch the muscles of his abdomen contract and relax with the movement of the arm which was holding her frozen in place. Henry’s most similar gesture crossed her mind. “Do you play the game, Mark?”

Mark’s irises were fixated on hers. The tone of his voice softened and lowered with each spoken word, until it became little more than a whisper. A question for a question. “Are we playing the game, Sam?”

Samantha’s lips parted with a sigh, the knot in her stomach tightening. There was no hint to suggest that Mark was not serious with his inquiry. She knew the answer to his question, but the words were frozen like they weren’t hers to speak. While Mark was looking at her, with the stoicism of his body and the seriousness of his eyes, Samantha presented herself agonizingly transparent.

“Wasn’t this the way he was holding you?” taunted Mark, drawing closer to her in an even voice. His other hand found the clothed valley of her hips. “Did you want him to kiss you?”

“No.” Samantha stated, an ounce of desperation evading beyond her control. The infinitesimal distance Mark was keeping between them was slowly driving her crazy. And he knew he held all control. “At no point did I want him to kiss me.”

Silence followed. A harrowing silence growing heavier with each movement of Mark’s brown orbs drawing back and forth on her features. Samantha grabbed Mark by the chest. “Say something goddammit!” she urged.

Mark pulled Samantha into him and slammed his lips against hers. In the background, a sexual melody mix broke into the stereo system. Samantha wobbled on her feet, which caused Mark to tighten his grasp around her figure. The background music melted with the swift ringing in her ears and the tips of her fingers turned cold from the unanticipated contact. Mark’s kiss was raw and hurried, yet obscenely sensual. Samantha’s lungs were deflating quickly, and Mark did not seem too eager to let her breathe. It was the first time he initiated such a kiss. His lips had always worked against hers with tenderness, at times enticing, but never so ardently carnal.

It was a possessive kiss and Mark wanted Samantha to feel it.

Mark pushed their bodies into the couch, and he slid his knee in between her thighs. During the brief moment their lips were separated, Samantha gasped for air, which was rather a sharp moan with Mark settling above her, and his clothed knee tormenting her womanhood. “Mark, I can’t breathe.”

“I couldn’t breathe either when he was towering over you, Samantha.” His visage was wearing the same chilling expression, albeit a sliver of distress hiding behind it. “I imagined him doing all sorts of things to you, with you. Fuck.”

Mark tilted his head to the side, a canine digging into the plush of his lower lip. Samantha’s eyes were watching him intensely. She was devoid of any courage to speak a word. Never would she have imagined she would see Mark like that. Not for her.

“I missed you girl, I missed you. And I…” You’re all I fucking think about.

Samantha gulped. She was observing Mark’s every gesture, every little shift in his facial expression, every word he was speaking. All the feelings in her chest were strangers and Mark was tempting and enchanting. He was everything Samantha wanted him to be. Even when he suppressed his thoughts, Mark was everything Samantha wanted. And he was there, in her immediate grasp.

You’re all I ever thought about.

“Kiss me, Mark.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Mark lowered his body instantly to connect the kiss in a lustful motion. His tongue lost no time to part Samantha’s lips and find her own into a frenzied tango. As his hands slid down to play with the hem of her t-shirt, so did the ever-growing feelings for the woman he was holding. The blood in his veins was pulsating with apparent unrequited affection, and it set him ablaze.

Mark broke the kiss in a nimble motion to undress Samantha of her shirt, to reveal her braless breasts. The tantalizing sight aroused Mark like it did the first time. For him, sex with Samantha felt like it was the first time every time. There was always something new he’d discover in the voluptuousness of her body, in the way her body would curve differently with each heated touch of his hand. Mark licked his lips and undid her shorts.

“Mark…” Samantha mewled, the cold breeze circling her breasts provoked a shudder. She edged her breasts as her eyes darted back and forth between Mark’s hands and the growing bulge in his jeans. Samantha was struggling to form coherent thoughts when he was immorally commanding the pace. She didn’t fight the vulgar lust invading her core. It was easier giving in to the euphoria than acknowledging the truth.

Easier than voicing that Mark should be the one.

“Tell me, darling.” There was a wicked inflection in Mark’s tone, busy with undressing Samantha of her shorts and underwear all at once. “What do you want?”

If it was any other moment, Samantha would have said it was his love she wanted. Still, a hue of shyness colored her rosy cheeks. “I want you, Mark.”

Mark was happy to obey, even if he was convinced Samantha was not speaking seriously. She wanted his body, while he desired her soul. In the heat of the moment, for the short time they’d spend as one, Mark heard what he needed to. That she wanted him, and she’d choose him. He lowered his body to plant kisses through the valley between her breasts, the butterfly pecks eliciting sultry moans out of Samantha’s throat. When his lips passed her chest’s threshold, Mark continued the delicious trail to her abdomen, one hand encircling Samantha’s breast. The other was keeping her thigh from squirming.

Samantha closed her eyes and threw her head into the soft material of the couch to indulge in the intense eroticism Mark was injecting into her body. When his sinful mouth reached her womanhood, Mark chuckled. Then he continued to leave kisses on her inner thigh, deliberately ignoring the wetness of her cavern. Samantha was vexed by Mark’s actions, and she groaned in protest. The hand previously on her breast travelled to her hip to intertwine with her fingers. Mark acknowledged her objection by nibbling a violet spot into her thigh. He traced it with the free index, shifting his body to worship Samantha’s other thigh with blissful movements of the tongue. The little perverted sounds she was making were truly driving Mark to impatience.

The way Samantha’s body was submitting to his febrile touches indicated that she wasn’t that far away either.

Mark pulled away momentarily to unzip his jeans and dispose of them on the floor. The rupture of their connected hands forced Samantha to dig her fingers into the plush of the sofa. The heat in her genitals was much more intense than she anticipated it would be. The simple fact that Mark retreated from tending to her pelvis made her moan loudly, and her vagina clench. Samantha watched him as he undressed himself to reveal his throbbing shaft, and she bit her lip in anticipation. Mark smirked at her and climbed atop her to seat himself between her legs. As he was leaning down to reach her level, the tip of his cock rimmed against soaked clit.

Mark linked their foreheads together, supporting himself with one arm by the side of her head. His other hand rested at the cusp of her jaw. He angled himself at her saturated entrance and slid the tip of his penis inside her. A guttural moan echoed in the air.

“We never did it like this, so tell me if it hurts.” Spoke Mark in a gentle tone and opened his eyes to observe Samantha. She gently shook her head and her fingers stretched into Mark’s shoulder blades to guide his body in a slow thrust. He let out a groan from the depth of his throat, feeling the creamy walls of her vagina enclosing around his shaft. Mark gave her a moment to adapt to his size, gazing intently at her. Samantha was so beautiful, with flushed cheeks and her splendid naked body, all of her offered to him.

Mark felt his heart ache.

“How can you say I’m not making love to you when I’m touching you like this?”

Samantha’s eyelids closed and fluttered open with Mark’s affirmation. The coherent words she tried to form were dispelled instantly when he started moving inside her with controlled thrusts, each forward move taunting her sweet spot. Samantha opened her mouth only to allow the moans to flood the air. And Mark was watching every contraction of her body and indulging in each pulsation of her pussy.

He leaned down to nip at the lobe of her ear. “When you’re giving yourself to me like this?”

“Mark…” Samantha reached to his face to lead the hazel of his eyes to hers. In his eyes she found the same commanding yearning but propelled by a raw sincerity that Mark had not given to her. Everything he was doing gave her a sense of serenity, fueled by the abnormally erotic movements of his hips. In a matter of minutes, she surrendered to him and to the zealous whines her lungs were making.

“What is it, baby?” He picked up the speed of his thrusts, heeding the contractions in Samantha’s womanhood. “You’re close, I know. What I didn’t know is how wet you could get.”

Samantha intended to avert her bashful expression, but Mark’s touch kept her focused on him. “Don’t hide. Let me take care of you.”

Amidst the whorl of sentiments and thoughts racing through her mind, Samantha found an anchor in Mark. She registered all the words he’d spoken to her and all the shielded gestures, and bare confessions. Samantha was powerless to respond, instead. There never was a man in her life to bear his heart on his sleeve, even half of how Mark was bearing his. In her normality, he was an abnormality. And still, he made good of his words and actions and took care of her.

Samantha relaxed in his embrace and extended her body to plant a kiss on his lips. A mellow kiss which Mark reciprocated so naturally that life halted for a second.

Then Mark enveloped Samantha as her body abruptly contracted. She held on to him as she reached for nirvana, her vocal cords enchanting Mark with lascivious breaths repeatedly. Hearing Samantha succumb to ecstasy was the sweetest testament Mark could receive. The hot blood in his veins met the point of boiling as he was getting closer to climax. A couple more lustful thrusts accompanied by roaring groans, each growing faster than the other, brought Mark as close to the edge as he could get. He guided himself out of Samantha’s core to reach his orgasm and paint her abdomen with his white cream.

Samantha enjoyed that particular view of Mark, so much that it was his turn to show a timid smile. It took a little while for Samantha to follow what happened, and when she did, both of them chuckled at each other.

“I’ll get some paper towels.”

“You’ll find me here.”

Samantha’s ears followed the sound of Mark’s steps and the muffled grunt that followed soon after. He returned with a handful of paper towels, and Samantha couldn’t look away from his still hard penis.

Mark took one cloth to clean his canvas half-heartedly. “Round two?”

Samantha giggled. “I’ll have to refuse. Round one was unexpectedly intense.”

“You have no idea how sexy you are.”

Samantha felt her cheek darken once more. She was watching silently as Mark was wiping her abdomen. When he was done, he walked away to throw the used napkins.

“Are you okay? You’re unusually quiet.” Mark’s voice reverberated through the kitchen.

“I’m alright, just a bit tired.” She responded, and Mark immediately walked back to her. He knelt down with her back facing her, gesturing for her to hop on his back.

“Let’s get to bed.”

Samantha hummed and attached herself to Mark’s body. She had never noticed how broad his back was, under the hoodies and oversized shirts he was usually wearing. Mark effortlessly rose from the ground and carried her to the nearby bedroom. He carefully seated Samantha on the edge of his neat bed, and she smiled to herself at the considerable number of pillows residing there. In front of the bed there was a small dressing which Mark opened to retrieve one clean shirt and a pair of shorts for himself.

“I don’t want you to get cold. Here, arms up.” Mark whispered, and Samantha complied with his actions. The dark shirt Mark had given her was large enough to reach her knees. He tossed the thin summery blanket away and helped Samantha up into the nook of his bed.

“Thank you, Mark. You’re so protective of me.” She smiled softly and happily accepted the invitation to encompass herself into Mark’s arms.

 He raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn’t see. “You don’t want me to be?”

“I do,” she answered quickly and laced their hands together. “I like this a lot.”

Mark tilted his head to follow the lazy sunset shimmer through the window. The loose hand he folded under his head served as a good excuse to avoid looking Samantha in the eye. As easy as it had been to drown in her orbs while laying together, just as hard it was to do so while returning to reality. Samantha noticed the atypical silence. With the aphrodisiac sensations fading away, all the words that Mark spoke to her started to click. Samantha was drawing absentmindedly on Mark’s forearm with the tip of her index, trying to reproduce the memory of each phrase. The subtle agony of I couldn’t breathe either when he was towering over you, Samantha, the slight panic in the I imagined him doing all sorts of things to you, with you.

The melancholy in the How can you say I’m not making love to you when I’m touching you like this? which made Samantha’s heart tremble was the seed of hope planted in her soul. If there was any source of truth to say that Mark truly harbored feeling for her, it was not tangible anymore.

Mark, once again, felt so different.

 “What are you thinking about, Mark?” Samantha looked up at him just in time to see how breathtaking the warm colors of the sunset appeared on his features.

He was silent for a while. “About you.”

Samantha furrowed her eyebrows. “What about me? I’m right here.”

A little sigh. “Nothing… it’s just I’m leaving tomorrow, and we won’t see each other a while again.”

“I know…” Samantha’s voice trailed off in sadness. “I don’t want you to go.”

Mark gave a little squeeze to her hand, eyes still watching the first moments of dusk adorning the sky. “That’s not under my control, unfortunately.”

 “I don’t want you to go out of my life, Mark.”

Samantha could swear the vein in Mark’s wrist strained at her words. Still, his expression remained impassable. After a couple moments spent in unmerciful silence, he continued. “Do you think about us? About what we could be?”

The palm of her hand was starting to sweat. Easy answer? Yes, I cannot devote myself to anything that’s not you. True answer? Do you want to take my broken heart? Samantha sensed that she was running out of time, and in hindsight, she should have known that earlier. A man like Mark who had the world at the tips of his fingers, who could have anyone he wished for, wouldn’t say the things he said to any woman that easily. All of it meant something, it should have meant something. It was everything Samantha clung to, for it to mean something. She had to make a decision.

“Forget I asked. You don’t need to say anything.”

“He hit me, Mark.”

The music formerly playing in the background silence of the living room stopped altogether. Mark’s phone must have died, and so did his concentration at Samantha’s sudden confession. His head jerked back to her direction in an impulse to check if she was hurt, even if there was no earthly possibility for her body to be in physical pain at that moment.

Samantha’s mouth was dry, and it shocked her to see Mark’s immediate reaction. She didn’t lose him, he was still there with her. “He hit me after he killed a mother and her unborn child in the operating room.”

“How are we doing there, mrs. Dalton? Can you say something for me?”

Henry’s deft motions of his nimble hands kept raising the standards for a second-year resident. The attendings in the observing room were watching the awake brain surgery with great interest, as was the then-director of the hospital.

“Oh, I can’t wait for this to be done,” the woman rubbed her hand lovingly on her pregnant belly. “Sandra should know the adventures mommy went through.”

“Status on the baby, Doctor Stoss?”

Up until the question was addressed to her, Samantha did not unpeel her eyes from the fetal monitor. “Like a Swiss watch.”

“Keep saying the good news, Doctor Stoss. I’m sure mama Dalton would love to hear that more often.”

“Oh Doctor Carter, I’m sure you were born such a charmer.”

Samantha’s vision was fixated on the handle of the dressing door. She was explaining her memories as if she was living them again. “This surgery had half the hospital watching. It was a procedure previously not done in that medical center, and Henry had had the privilege to participate in one once when we were interns in Toronto. He’s thinking of himself as the hotshot, as he should. His skill and knowledge are top-notch. But they failed him.”

“Doctor Stoss over there can attest to me being a charmer. Or not.” Henry chuckled under his surgical mask, and he quickly stole a glance at Samantha, before focusing on the region of the tumor which he had just reached. “We’re here, mama. Shouldn’t take too long to take it out.”

Mrs. Dalton’s vitals spiked up a level and Samantha observed the nerves on her face. She left her intern in charge of the fetal monitor and approached the woman to reassure her. “It’s going to be okay. We’re here for both you and your little girl.”

Just as Samantha was returning to her previous post, henry was actively preparing to remove the tumor located in a tricky area of mrs. Dalton’s brain. “I’m in.”

The collective audience in the gallery leaned forward to witness Henry’s work. At that point, the loud beeping of the machines pierced the operating room with alarming sounds.

“Doctor Carter, baby’s vitals are starting to drop.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on with my baby?”

“Please try to remain calm, Mrs. Dalton. These reactions happen naturally when a tumor body is being extracted. Once I take this out, everything will get back to normal—”

“Only it didn’t.” Samantha’s fingers curled unconsciously as if reaching out for a scalpel. “I was repeatedly telling him I needed to do a C-Section to save the girl and put her in NICU. At seven months old, she had all the odds of surviving. If only we moved fast enough…”

The distressing sounds of the monitors multiplied when the woman lost consciousness. Her vitals became hectic graphics on the monitors, and Henry visibly stiffened.

“Henry, we are losing this baby. I need to perform the emergency C-Section now.”

“No. I’ll save them both, wait.”

While Henry was applying the standard emergency measures, Samantha’s attention was distracted by the uneasiness of the spectator gallery. She briefly noticed Jonathan, with a looming look on his face that any surgeon regardless of their specialty would understand. The unborn baby was losing its vitals.

“Henry, I’ll move forward. Scalpel, please!”

“I told you to wait! Doctor Stoss, I need you to follow the protocol of my OR.”

“I guess indeed it was his surgery. But those were not his lives to take.”

Half-heartedly, Samantha hesitated to start the neonatal protocol. While Henry had authority, he did not have a positive chance to save both lives. When the fetal monitor fell flat, Samantha went against his instructions and cut into the mother’s belly.

“By the time we took out the little girl, her heart had already stopped beating. We did all the resuscitation maneuvers we knew and could…” Samantha let out a sigh, and Mark pulled her tighter into him. “All hell broke loose. I don’t know when Jonathan got to the OR, but he was there for all of it.”

“Time of death…” Samantha’s discouraged voice echoed throughout the macabre silence of the operating room. “Six thirty-one.” Two paces away, resuscitation maneuvers were still going for the woman on the table. When Henry realized there was no use for them anymore, he stepped away from the body, prompting everyone else to follow his example. “Time of death, six thirty-five.”

Nobody in the room dared move a finger. Two casualties in an operating room which, on paper, could have been avoided. It was a medical disaster. Samantha pulled down her surgical mask, to try and take hold of the situation. “We’ll need to go outside and inform the father—”

“You let her die.”

All eyes fell on Henry. Samantha couldn’t believe her ears. “Excuse me?”

“That baby could have been saved.”

Henry’s voice grew louder, more assertive. Samantha stood her ground, deliberately choosing to ignore Henry’s last comment. “I understand this must be a difficult situation for you, Doctor Carter, but in no way am I to blame.”

“That baby could have been saved!”

As his voice grew into a striking holler, Samantha no longer recognized the man in front of her. She was searching for the proficient doctor, for the partner that he was. And for the lover that he used to be.

“Henry,” Samantha kept calm even though her head was spinning in disbelief “you told me to follow your protocol in your OR—"

 At that point, Samantha could not register what had just happened. Henry raised his hand at her and slapped her on the cheek. There was a shared gasp among the people in the room who refused to understand Henry’s tameless reaction. By the time Samantha tilted her head back to look at Henry, Jonathan had stepped up to punch him in the face.

Mark raised an eyebrow. Although he got off to a rocky start with Jonathan, his respect for him grew substantially.

“A couple of guys had to restrain Jonathan because clearly that wouldn’t have been the last punch he would’ve thrown. After that, I went to inform the father of his… losses. Henry was not allowed to accompany me. The father sued the hospital for malpractice, and I have no idea how they settled. I only saw Henry once, after that. They summoned all the medical operating staff to testify. He never looked me in the eye, not once. I wanted to believe that he was sorry, something to make me believe our relationship was not a lie. I never got closure for that.”

Mark waited patiently for Samantha to continue. When she did not, he placed a chaste kiss on the crown of her head. “Did you need that? Closure?”

She sighed. “I guess I did. When you think you have something of that magnitude with someone, only for it to fall apart in the most gruesome way, I needed some sort of a life raft. Truth is, we started falling apart even before he hit me. Henry was starting to become distant and full of himself. But I never expected him to be violent.”

Mark noticed the flake of regret in her voice, to briefly wonder how things are settled in the vast Universe. Hadn’t Henry done that, Mark wouldn’t have gotten to fall in love with her. Life was funny, that way.

Samantha sighed, once again, yet more out of liberation. Albeit painful, she truly needed to convey the feelings out loud for them to become less repressive. Maybe to disappear.

“Can you understand now, Mark? Why he was able to hold me down at all? Why it is tough for me to trust someone again?”

Mark’s lungs filled with air. “Even me?”

Samantha closed her eyes. He did not need to spell it out loud for her to understand what he meant. “I just need a little more time, Mark.”

Indeed, he never expected to hear anything different, it still did not mean it hurt less. On the one hand, because Samantha still didn’t see him fit to be trustworthy, and on the other hand because he seemingly was giving more than she was ready to receive.

“Should I keep my distance then?” his voice was flat, too much so that he must have given away he was disappointed, because Samantha tightened their holding hands.

“No.” She answered timidly, looking up at him for the first time in a long while. Mark’s eyes were diverted to the emerging summer night. He was slipping away through her fingers, once more.

“I don’t know if I can give you both ways.” Not when I know I'll never treat you the way he did.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[winter-dayz]

12 Days of Ficmas

winter-dayz

A collection of oneshots for Ficmas 2023.

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

Rosé Park: Falling in Love with Me Inspired by The Holiday (2006) Genre: Angst; Fluff

Choi Lia: Falling in Love with You Inspired by The Holiday (2006) Genre: Angst; Fluff

Im Changkyun: Moments of Christmas First Christmas Together Genre: Fluff

Kim Seokjin: Home Meeting the Family Genre: Fluff

Seo Changbin: Sweet Crushing Bakery AU Genre: Fluff

Jackson Wang: Think of me? Brother's Best Friend Genre: Fluff; Smut (if you squint)

Bang Chan: A Year Together Inspired by Holidate (2020) Genre: Angst; Fluff

Chae Hyungwon: The Perfect Christmas Snowed In Genre: Fluff

Kai Huening: Reunited Childhood Neighbor AU Genre: Fluff

Park Jinyoung: Grinch Festivities Grinch/Scrooge Genre: Fluff

Hwang Yeji: Anonymous Secret Santa Genre: Fluff

Son Hyunwoo: Idyllic Inspired by Snowglobe (2007) Genre: Angst; Fluff

[nexuskrp]

We are pleased to introduce CHOI MINGYU, a twenty-six year old OMEGA MALE originally from TOKYO, JAPAN. If it wasn’t for the smell of WATERMELON & MANGO that clings to their skin, you might mistake them for the famous actor, Park Jinyoung. I last ran into them STUDYING not too long ago and they’re known for being HAPPY and CREATIVE. That said, you need to watch out for when they get CYNICAL. Anyway, I’m sure they’ll make a great neighbor! 

BACKGROUND:

Parents moved to Tokyo Japan for work.

Father is an alpha and mother is a beta.

He has a little sister.

He spent his summers at his grandparent's house in Busan. Mingyu refers to them as his real parents because they always supported him.

-had a talent for both math and art.

-He loved Manga because it allowed him to escape from his harsh life. Mingyu won the best upcoming Manga artist award from a magazine.

After graduation He moved to Shibuya where he worked in Hot Issue a clothing store in the mall. He ran the stores blog and became a popular fashion influencer.

He graduated college with a BS in economics. Instead of joining his parents company he decided to continue chasing after his dreams of being a Manga artist. This destroyed his relationship with his parents.

Hot Issue goes bankrupt and closes all of its stores. Mingyu is left jobless. Because he is unsuccessful as a Manga artist, he ends up not being able to afford rent becoming  homeless in his car.

Moves in with his grandparents to take care of them.

-he starts to get his PhD in Economics

-is hired to work in a clothing store of the rebirth of hot issue. The person who hired him is his former manager.

-he has his own Manga series in an online magazine. He just can't live off of his creativity

-moved into a small apartment where he adopted a Shiba Inu named Skittles.

he's an omega who really tries to keep a low profile as he's quickly discovered that the Economics program is filled with alphas.

[haesunflower]

I don't keep up with all bcs *sobs* adult life but I do keep up with a couple.. mostly bcs of dramas and just their songs. I keep up with jinyoung (bcs instan cix) , jihoon, minhyun and seongwoo (man's my ult I have officially debuted as a military spouse 💔) and the others, a couple of songs whenever they drop. that's really it. not much tho.

and I'm from Pakistan which is neighboring countries with India and China :")

ong is at the military already?? whattttt??? oh btw do you have recos in which dramas or movies to watch? i saw "20th century girl" and was surprised to see seongwu at the end

i know where pakistan is, hehe i have cousins who are half pakistani

[bexsua]

fame < infamy feat. @bejinyoung

"thank god," sua sighs with relief, waddling up to the door, today's groceries in her hands. she fumbles with her key for a moment, the heaviest bag hindering her until she's finally able to unlock it. she shoulders open the door and steps into the entryway. the door collides with the opposite wall, sua letting out a surprised squawk at the sound, followed by a curse as she kicks the door shut with her foot. her eyes fall shut as soon as it closes, knowing that's going to get the neighbor next door complaining to her when she checks the mail tomorrow.

shaking her head, she sets the bags on the ground for a moment, heaving another sigh as sua rests her arm, catching her breath. she straightens up, heaving up the groceries one more time so she can kick them onto the counter. with the weight gone, sua relaxes a bit, absentmindedly glancing around as she begins to toe off her shoes.

her movements begin to slow, eyes falling onto the shoes already near the rack. the first shoe tossed towards the rack. those aren't joomi's. the second shoe follows. joomi isn't even here...?

joomi's familiar shoes aren't to be found, leaving only another pair that sua's been associating with as jinyoung's staring back at her.

"okay," she mutters to herself, straightening up and shrugging off her jacket, hanging it up as sua casts a wary glance to the hallway towards the bedrooms. wonders if she interrupted anything by clamoring in like that-- but sua finds it hard for her to care much about it.

"i'm back," she calls out half-heartedly, returning to the counter to unpack the bags.

[greywoodrpg]

𝕧𝕚𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕝 𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕪𝕝𝕤

he appears as though he was born thirty-two years ago but is actually sixty-five, is a faerie and lives in the outskirts as a clerk in out of the attic, and is in the mirror fantasy. he looks an awful lot like jung jinyoung.

“Y’know what’s good for migraines? This herbal remedy I put together.”

tw: medical condition

Virgil doesn’t remember much about how he ended up here. All he knows is that he came to on the banks of a pond surrounded by fog. He followed a trail to Greywood, and has stayed there ever since. But he has nightmares of a house on fire, of screaming an unfamiliar name, and a feeling that he’s missing someone important to him. The burns on his body tell a story that he hasn’t been able to hear. He hates looking at the sky because it feels wrong somehow, upside down, and he feels like he’s going to fall into it. He’s plagued by migraines and dizziness.  It’s been a few years since he found himself there, and while it still doesn’t feel like home, Virgil has been making do. He’s slowly adjusting to life. He likes to garden in his spare time even though it’s difficult for him to do any amount of hard labor because of that dizziness. He has a fascination for flowers and mushrooms that bloom at night, and he loves anything poisonous.  He took a job as a clerk at Out of the Attic, but his main source of income is perhaps less than legal plants. He can’t remember if he found them so easy to grow back home, but now, it feels like second nature. He has connections to people who pay him more than well enough, and he’s fairly good at keeping these plants secret from snooping neighbors and any cops who might pass by.  

“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”

Virgil’s power is being able to summon mushroom circles from the ground. The mushroom circles can be quite powerful if he does them right, and the effects can vary depending on what type of mushrooms he uses. Some call sleeping humans out of their beds and convince them to dance with him. Others make humans very trusting of him, and allow him to compel them. He’s harmless enough since all he tries to do is make them buy his products. 

penned by... einar

[springday-aus]

GOT7′s Jinyoung: [Drabble] → moodboard link

Neighbor!AU with Park Jinyoung

→ Based on the AU Prompt: “all of our other neighbors are crazy so we bond over that fact that we’re the only normal people on the whole street” 

When you moved out of an apartment, you definitely expected something different. You just didn’t realize that you bought your way into a Tim Burton-esque neighborhood. It’s not even one of the fun ones, like The Nightmare Before Christmas—instead, you get something creepier, like the pastels neighborhood from Edward Scissorhands. There was just something... off; unfortunately for you, you realized it was the people, not the neighborhood itself. 

“You see,” Deborah says. “Mr. Banana is very picky when it comes to his chew toys. He likes the patterned rubber because it builds his teeth immunity.” She coos at her purse dog, letting him lick her dry, thin lips like a savanna desert meeting rain for the first time in this century. You try not to spit back up your coffee from the sight. 

While you aren’t a dog expert, you know for a fact that Mr. Banana doesn’t give a shit about a squeaky toy’s rubber. You didn’t even ask; fucking Deborah just came up to you and carried the entire conversation. This is your punishment for going outside. You continue to smile up at her from your position on your front steps. 

As Deborah blabs on and on about the questionable methods she uses to raise dogs, your eyes move on their own towards Mr. Morris across the street—who stands next a row of venus fly traps. Hasn’t he ever watched Little Shop of Horrors to know where this disaster is gonna go? 

You make eye contact with Jinyoung, who pulls a face at you when Mr. Morris isn’t looking. You offer him a pity smile and shrug. You’ve got your hands full with Deborah already. After ten minutes, she seems to realize your disinterest and leaves, not without showing another level of PDA with her pet that makes you forget about getting lunch. 

Jinyoung walks over just as she leaves, leaning against the pillar. “What’d you get roped into?” 

“Mr. Banana can tell the difference in rubber apparently.” 

“How fascinating.” 

You roll your eyes at his dripping sarcasm. “Did you get more tips on how to water your cacti?” 

“It’s not that hard,” he says. “But Mr. Morris insists that plants know.” 

“Know what?” 

“You expect me to understand what he says?” 

You let a laugh. It’s these talks that keep you sane. “Did you hear about Bobby?” 

“Oh my God,” he says with a groan. “I should not know this much about a neighbor’s son and his inability to perform sexually.” He looks at you. “Why do I listen to this crap?” 

“You aren’t listening.” You give a side-glance to Mrs. Garcia, who’s currently starting her afternoon ritual. “They just overshare.” On cue, Mrs. Garcia starts to chuck her plastic utensils at the teenagers that skate by. 

His eyebrows raise as he hears boys screaming; he ignores them, pushing his glasses up. “Well, it’s a Tuesday and you know what that means.” 

“Ah, the weekly neighborhood fight.” You nod with a hum. “I have my bets on Ms. Patterson. She’s been too fed up with Patricia’s shit for too long.” 

He gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything about that. “Well, you know what time to come over.” He pushes himself off the pillar and makes his way back to his house, which neighbors yours. 

“I’ll see you at 7!” 

He gives a wave without turning back and you can’t help but smile at his form. Everyone here is insane, but, at least you have him. 

[pantoneyoongi]

the sun & the stars | 03 | kth

title ; the sun & the stars pairing ; taehyung x you

word count ; 5.6k

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

description ; 

taehyung’s known you almost his whole life - his sister’s best friend, the girl who invades his home and his life on the daily. you’re the one who gave his sister the nickname ‘sky’ to begin with - and also the one who relented when he whined about it at age five and said okay, you can be the stars, then. 

it’s funny, because to him, you’re just the petty, mischievous neighbor from across the street with a penchant for stealing his snacks. but over the years, you’ve somehow landed yourself a reputation that stretches beyond the 1.5 year age gap he has with you - for someone who generally likes to keep things low key, you sure have a way of drawing attention. 

sky’s friendly, teasing best friend is known for being cold, impassive, and immovable. which is weird, because when he’s around you, all he sees are unabashed grins and terrible jokes. until he realizes maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. maybe they’re right - it just so happens that the walls you throw up around him look a little different from the walls you throw up around everyone else. 

tracklist ; willow - taylor swift, give me your forever - zack tabudlo ft. billkin, limbo - keshi

tags ; college!au, best friend’s little brother!au, childhood friends to lovers, angst, fluff, mentions of absent parents and financial instability, bestie jinyoung!, brief mentions of infidelity, there is tiny tiger!tae support in this but let it be known i am team bear ok 

you’re not sleeping well. 

you hate to admit it, but it’s true. you’d think after working yourself into the goddamn ground you would knock out as soon as you hit the bed, but no. your brain has other plans for you, including ensuring you get no rest even when you do fall asleep. the nightmares don’t even make any sense, they just make you tired by the time your alarm goes off in the morning. 

you know your friends worry about you. they always do. but you can usually keep them at bay, distracted by a grin and a well placed, overly chaotic story told entirely out of proportion to what actually happened. but you must sincerely be starting to look like shit, considering the number of times taehyung has both texted you and told you to your face that people need eight hours of sleep to function, sun. 

yeah, yeah, yeah. hours, shmours. sleep is for the financially stable. 

“jesus christ, y/n!” jinyoung smacks your hand away before you can burn yourself on the boiler. you haven’t been paying attention and you startle at his voice. “are you kidding me?” 

jinyoung’s worry usually comes out as mild aggression. it starts off with sass and ends with frustration, so if he’s halfway to yelling at you, then you’ve already gone too far and will be inevitably subject to jinyoung’s line of questioning. for now, he just stares you down with a pinched expression, like you’ve annoyed him for being too obviously distracted. 

“sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead. you really don’t have much to say for yourself. 

he gives you a long look before tossing you a towel. “we’re talking about this later. finish cleaning up, closing’s in twenty.” 

you don’t argue. with a sigh, you lower your head and start to clean up, wiping down counters and restocking sauces. when you’re done, you find jinyoung leaning against the wall outside the back door, waiting for you. 

in a lot of ways, jinyoung’s a lot like you. not just in the live-to-work, work-to-live sort of way. he’s resilient, from years of having to fend for himself. reclusive, from learning to put his own wants on the backburner just so he can survive. like you, jinyoung puts everyone around him first, and himself last. 

while your childhood friends know that you work probably one job too many, you don’t tell them much about what that really means for you. you don’t tell them about the empty house you went home to as a kid, or the way it feels to look out into a crowd during school events and know your parents won’t be there. you don’t tell them the stress that weighs on you when it comes to managing your finances, how nothing ever feels like it’ll be enough. that the degree you’re studying isn’t because you enjoy it, but because you need it. you need the security it’ll offer you once you have the diploma in your hands. 

sky, taehyung, and jimin’s lives feel so pretty. they glitter, like something out of a movie. you don’t want to disturb the waters. you like the way the light reflects off them. if they know how deep you’re drowning, the glass will shatter, and you think maybe you will, too. 

jinyoung’s different. like you, jinyoung doesn’t live in a romantic movie montage. he’s as cynical as you pretend not to be, but while you live your life in constant states of escapism, jinyoung faces reality head-on. for him, it is what it is. and because he’s a good friend, he forces you to face it too. 

“i heard a rumor,” jinyoung interrupts the silence the two of you have been walking in. you stiffen. jinyoung presses forward. “sounds like namjoon and sky have been getting close these days.” 

jinyoung is one of few people you’ve ever let your guard down around. he knows about your parents, he knows about seokjin, he knows almost everything, and vice versa. it’s easy to rely on each other when the foundation feels like common ground. 

you shrug. “that doesn’t have anything to do with me, jinyoung. i’m her friend, not her keeper.” 

“sure,” jinyoung says agreeably. “but you haven’t said anything about it yet, which means sky didn’t tell you, did she?” 

you really hate that jinyoung knows you so well. 

you purse your lips. “she has every right not to.” 

jinyoung pauses, making you stop beside him. you make the mistake of looking at him, when he says, “you know seokjin wasn’t your fault, right?” 

of course you know. you know, but also, you very much don’t. every logical part of you agrees that seokjin wasn’t your fault, but the guilt caving in on you says otherwise. 

sky didn’t tell you about namjoon. she didn’t tell you, and you get why. it stings a little - it stings a lot - but you understand. you’d want to keep namjoon a secret from yourself too, if you were sky. 

all things considered, you think you got the better end of the seokjin shitshow. which is kind of a pathetic sentence, but it’s also the truth. if two best friends were going to fall for the same dirtbag anyway, you’d argue that the one who got to hold his hand and call him her boyfriend for at least a short stint probably got the lesser of two evils. especially if the other option was having your feelings played perfectly like a puppet on strings. 

seokjin was unfair. unfair to you, but truly, devastatingly unfair to sky. you know he left her with insecurities and you resent that you played a part in it. you hate that he made her feel like she was less than you, somehow. as if sky isn’t the best part of you. 

he made her feel special, just not special enough. he made her feel seen, just not worth being seen with. and he made her feel like the worst kind of friend, for helplessly falling for someone that belonged to somebody else. 

you have no interest in namjoon. it’s not about that. but because of seokjin, some part of sky is still hiding, still scared that she’s not interesting enough. that she’s not worth holding onto, that no one will choose her. 

that they’ll always choose you instead. 

you don’t consider yourself all that special. you’re not nearly as interesting as the rumors make you out to be. and you would never interfere in sky’s relationship, not if he’s good to her. but there’s a reason sky chose not to tell you, and you feel like you can only blame yourself. 

“she’ll tell you,” jinyoung’s gentle, for once. can see the way you’re shaking, scared of losing your best friend because you played a part in making her feel like she wasn’t enough. “hey. she will, sun. on her own time. she’ll tell you everything.” 

you try to smile back. you do. but you really don’t want to fuck this up. sky likes namjoon, and you’re terrified of getting in the way again. 

worse, something more selfish tries to push through the cracks. something that looks a lot like the empty house you used to return to, with all the lights off, and no one to greet you. 

.

.

.

whoever invents teleportation can have your firstborn child. trudging around campus in this weather is starting to get real old, real fast. 

you’re tired. tired enough that your head hangs a little as you walk, dragging your feet down the sidewalk. you should’ve stayed home, skipped lecture. but this professor takes attendance, so you unfortunately don’t have much of a choice. 

you come abruptly to a stop when someone steps in front of you, halting yourself just in time before you can bump into them. you’re about to mouth off at whoever walked directly into your path, but the glare on your face melts right off as soon as you see taehyung’s familiar face before you. 

“oh,” your shoulders lower back down. “tae.” 

he stares at you, long enough that you start to fidget a little under his gaze. taehyung’s always been on the quieter side, preferring to sit on the sidelines and watch rather than be in the midst of it all. so you’ve always filled the space, but the longer he stares at you, the less you seem to know what to say. 

he can tell you’re hesitating. struggling to find something to say to him, looking uncomfortable in your own skin. like you feel bad about something. his gaze softens, and he unwinds his scarf from around his neck, which prompts you back into action. 

“what are you doing?” you ask, taken aback when he wraps the scarf around you instead, fluffing it up so it covers your ears, too. “taehyung?” your voice gets muffled from behind his scarf, and he smiles at that while you blink back at him. 

“keeping you warm,” he says simply, and he can’t see your mouth behind the scarf, but he knows you’re frowning, can tell by the crease you get in your forehead. 

“what about you?” 

he shrugs. “heat rises up.” 

immediately, the tension breaks. you straighten up at his nonsensical answer, “you calling me short?” 

he smirks, and you forget anything that just came out of your mouth. what? what were you yelling at him about? when he bends down to meet your height, you also forget how to breathe. 

“am i wrong?” 

he’s so close that you lose all functioning thought. which is odd, because this is taehyung. but your heart is pounding in your chest and you swallow hard, but you refuse to back down, even when you can feel your cheeks heat up from the way he’s looking at you. 

taehyung doesn’t get like this often. but sometimes he’s cheeky, invades your personal space, reciprocates your affection for him with more than just acknowledging grunts and soft smiles. you might be fine laying your head in his lap, but taehyung usually keeps his hands to himself. on the rare occasions that he doesn’t, you entirely forget how to act. 

sometimes, you forget that taehyung is twenty, and not three anymore. 

a grin escapes him when you have nothing to retort, rendered silent by the quick pace of your heart. he likes that your cheeks are pink and you still look a little defensive but you’re too flustered to say anything. 

he rises back to height, patting you on the head. “you looked cold. keep the scarf, sun. i’ll see you later.”

he wanders off like nothing’s happened, while you try to re-regulate your heart rate. you try to convince yourself that you like the typical taehyung more, the one you can bounce around and annoy and he’ll just stand there, fondly exasperated. 

but the occasional confidence that emerges out of taehyung is the only one that makes your heart stumble in your chest, inexplicably. it’s the taehyung that you’re scared of, but can’t help wanting more of. 

head buzzing with thoughts that never quite take full form in your head, you make your way to class, dazed. 

a faint smile lingers on your face the whole way. 

.

.

.

jinyoung is a good friend. a good guy, in general, which you typically find far and few between. he’s loyal, he’s honest, and he’s genuine. 

“you should just talk to her.” 

he’s also really annoying. 

“i do talk to her.” you move to the next table, setting down the plates and napkins. jinyoung trails after you, setting down utensils. 

“your group chat doesn’t count, sun.” 

you fix him with an unamused look. “i’m just busy. finals are coming up.” 

“and yet somehow, you can still find time to eat with her little brother. how interesting,” jinyoung deadpans, and the nerves run up your spine so fast you don’t have time to hide the flush that goes up your neck to the tip of your ears. 

“that’s different. he’s just a kid,” you argue, and decidedly don’t look at jinyoung, who you’re sure is giving you the don’t bullshit me look. taehyung is just a kid. he’s sky’s kid. kid brother. who is twenty years old. 

exactly. a kid. 

a kid with a really warm scarf that smells nice. like him. like home. 

jinyoung sighs, waving you off. “you know what? we’ll unpack that later. one thing at a time.” 

you try not to feel too relieved that he’s dropping it. feeling relieved means there is something there to think about, and you’d rather literally anything else. 

jinyoung stops you at the next table, dropping his handful of utensils onto its surface. “i’m serious, sun. you know sky. she’s not gonna approach you first, and she’s probably feeling just as bad as you do. do you really wanna drag this out?” 

you chew on your lip. he raises his eyebrows. “sun,” he looks at you pointedly. “exactly how well did that go over for the both of you, last time?” 

(spoiler: poorly. it went very poorly.) 

you slowly narrow your eyes at him. you hand him the plates you’re carrying, and he takes them silently, still waiting for your answer. 

then you throw your hands in the air, stomping your feet away and throwing your head back, grumbling loudly, “fine! i’ll talk to her! i’ll communicate, like the grown adult you keep telling me i have to be!” 

he smiles. 

jinyoung is so annoying. 

.

.

.

you resent jinyoung for having perfectly sound logic. you hate confrontation. 

does it still count as confrontation if you and sky are just laying on the floor, side by side, staring at the ceiling saying nothing? 

for hardwood, your floor is surprisingly comfortable to lay on. both you and sky have pillows tucked under your heads, feet propped up against your bed. you’re both lost deep in your own thoughts, neither of you having said a word since sky got here. 

you wonder which of you will cave first. usually, it’s you. but you feel tongue tied, and no order of words that you rearrange in your head sound right when you think about asking her about namjoon. they all feel accusatory, even when they’re not meant to be. 

but then, as if hearing your thoughts, sky breaks the silence. 

“he’s a good guy, sun.” 

you try not to visibly react. “namjoon?” 

“namjoon,” she confirms. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you about him.”

this makes you turn your head towards her. she’s still looking up at the ceiling, lower lip drawn into her mouth. she looks nervous, and it tugs at your heartstrings. 

“you’re not obligated to tell me everything, sky.” 

“i know,” she says, finally turning to look at you. “but i do. i tell you everything. but it… it felt good for a little bit. that he was my secret.” 

you stare back at her, trying to understand her. sky’s your every exception. everyone knows it. she’s your best friend. you would give up the world for her, let her get away with anything and everything. because no one’s been there for you like sky has. no one lets you escape the world the way she does, lets you slip into her life and offer everything she has out to you. 

you met sky when you were five. five’s too young an age for your parents not to be home, but that was simply your reality. it was scary to be home alone, but you got used to it eventually. it’s less scary to come home to an empty house if you know you can always walk over to sky’s. 

you never explicitly told her that your parents weren’t ever really home. that they were too busy working, which meant you were often left at sky’s place with your house key slung around your neck. but sky could fit the pieces together eventually, or maybe her parents explained it to her. that sometimes some kids just live life a little differently. some houses don’t glow with the same lights. 

you don’t know. you didn’t ask. it was just mutually understood between the two of you that you were never going to have dinner on the table with both your parents the way sky always did. 

her home was always lit up. warm. there was always life in it, her mom bustling around the house, or her dad grilling something in the backyard. or there was taehyung, trailing after his sister, begging to be a part of your games and play-pretends. 

sky’s never minded sharing. she shared her toys, her stories, her home, her family. with you. you could forget how lonely it was to say good night by yourself because in the mornings you went running over to sky’s. they say you would do anything for sky, but it’s really sky who would give anything for you. without question. 

in high school, that meant hiding how she felt about seokjin because you were too enamored with him to notice. but you’re not in high school anymore. years have passed since seokjin happened, but even healed wounds can still leave scars. 

you and sky are still best friends, but it’s still you who is the reason she has scars to begin with. 

you turn away from her, facing back to the ceiling. “he seems nice, sky.” 

she gives a wry smile. “you met him for two seconds.” 

you make a noise that admittedly sounds uncannily like a wince. “he had good vibes.” 

sky hums. “he does have good vibes.” 

“and he’s very tall.” 

“very tall.” 

“could probably throw me.” 

she laughs. “and me. at the same time.” 

you both burst into laughter at that, sky turning her head back to you again. “i think i like him, sun.” 

you glance at her, see the sincerity in her eyes when she says it. the mix of hope and excitement, the slightest touch of hesitance that comes with a crush, overwhelmed by the exhilaration. she likes him, a lot. it makes you smile. “yeah?” 

she smiles back. “yeah.” 

.

.

.

it’s not something you say out loud, but it is something that’s always been obvious to you: you owe sky everything. you could only get this close to a normal childhood because you had sky. the least you can do is protect her so she doesn’t get hurt. 

the rumors say you’re overprotective, that you don’t let anyone near her, but it’s not true. you know sky lives her own life, that you can’t shield her from everything, but what you can do is keep the persistent, unwanted ones away. you can give your opinion on whether you think the people in sky’s life are genuinely there for her, or to abuse her kindness. but sky’s always made the final decision. whether she keeps someone around or gives you free reign to get creative in keeping someone out of her life, it’s her choice. 

you know what it is you’re really afraid of. of course you want sky and namjoon to work out, to be happy. her entire demeanor shifts when she talks about him, when she so much as thinks of him. it speaks a lot to how safe he makes her feel, how kind he is to her. 

what you’re afraid of anymore isn’t that namjoon will hurt her. what you’re afraid of honestly isn’t even that you’ll cause problems, because you would sooner remove yourself from sky’s life than ruin her happiness. 

which is exactly the issue, isn’t it? 

your mind thunders. 

selfish, selfish, selfish. 

your heart aches. 

lonely, lonely, lonely.

.

.

.

with finals rolling in, your days somehow simultaneously get longer and shorter. you’re up later, you wake earlier, and there’s still not nearly enough hours in the day. 

if the exhaustion was obvious before, you are now currently the definition of it. you feel like you almost constantly have a headache, and you’re so fucking tired you could probably fall asleep walking if you didn’t make enough of an effort to stay awake. 

you haven’t seen any of your friends in days. not sky, not taehyung, not even jimin has popped in to check in in person, and he’s the most likely to actually leave his apartment. everyone is too busy drowning in their own educational misfortunes, though the group chat does ping every so often: 

jimin: do u think i could make it as a stripper

tae: is that not ur current occupation

tae: do u know how many people have told me about seeing your ass

jimin: omg u think im pretty enough to be a stripper? 

tae: campus does 

you: don’t encourage him 

jimin: it’s good money

you: when you develop the coordination to sit in a chair without falling over, lmk 

sky: jimin you can be a stripper on the side. how good are you at biochemistry 

jimin: are u srsly asking the business major how good i am at biochemistry 

but for the most part, it’s silent. maybe distantly you can hear the aggrieved sound jimin makes whenever he opens a textbook, although it’s more likely it’s just the same sound that comes out of your mouth as you trudge out from your closing shift, wishing someone would just carry you home so at least you could take a nap on the trip back. 

your wishes manifest in the shape of one kim taehyung, who has apparently developed the habit of quietly appearing in front of you, without any form of announcement. you’re too tired to care that he seems to be insistent on letting you walk straight into him instead of just informing you of his presence, mumbling a vague apology before you look up and realize that it’s him. “star?” 

you don’t often use the old nickname, but sometimes it just slips out. you do think it suits him. taehyung isn’t really the type to be described as ‘bright’, but you’ve seen the way his eyes light up, and you’ve felt the warmth of his care. he shines in the dark, gentle and comforting. 

you have his scarf wrapped around your neck, and he smiles at the sight. you never gave it back - using the excuse that you didn’t have time to, or that you forgot to bring it every time you saw him - but now that he’s in front of you, you just don’t want to. you like having it with you. 

“hi y/n,” he says, voice a little deeper than usual. it is relatively late at night, and the later it gets, the lower taehyung’s voice seems to get, too. you’ve heard his voice gravely in the mornings, dropping octaves whenever he’s tired, and it startles you every time, especially when it’s your name coming out of his mouth. 

“since when do you use my government name?” you scrunch your nose.

he raises an eyebrow. he looks amused. “am i not supposed to?” 

you deflect, because you don’t actually have a good answer to that. it’s just weird that he didn’t call you sun, and you’re not entirely sure how you feel about the way your name sounds on his lips all of a sudden. “what are you doing here?” 

he shrugs. “was just passing by.” 

you forget the whole your-name-in-his-deep-voice thing. “passing by? here? at 11:30? taehyung, you literally only leave your apartment for class, the library, and if jimin threatens you.” 

he makes a noncommittal noise. “i also leave for food.” 

you wave him off. “whatever.” 

“i can’t just be a good friend and come see you?” 

“not in this weather,” you mutter, shoving your hands into your pockets. the deeper into finals seasons you get, the colder the wind picks up. 

“you do it all the time for sky. i’m just picking up some good habits.” 

you snort. “sky’s my best friend.” 

“what am i?” 

your steps pause. you look at him, and he stops with you, head tilted as he stares back at you. you don’t know what game taehyung’s playing at, but it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. taehyung’s always looked kinda harmless - unruly hair, innocent eyes, open expression. even if he doesn’t smile altogether that often, he doesn’t come off as particularly intimidating. although maybe that has more to do with the fact that you’ve known him your entire life and have witnessed taehyung in a tiger onesie before. 

there’s really nothing less intimidating than a teenaged kim taehyung in a onesie that he trips over because it’s slightly too big. 

but you look at him now, and you give yourself a chance to wonder. wonder when things started to change, when he got taller, broader, more handsome. you’ve noticed it before, of course - the way taehyung can reach the things you can’t, how he hovers over you, how he always feels safe and warm whenever you go in for the occasional hug. 

then there’s the moments when sometimes he leans in a little extra close, the times when his smiles get playful in a way that makes your heart stutter. how he tends to drop by when you’re working, or just before or after so he can walk with you, and you’ve never told him to stop, because you like his company. you like having him nearby, the back of his hand brushing yours. 

but it felt weird to admit it. so you didn’t. you don’t. 

it’s not like you don’t know. taehyung thinks he’s secretive, but you’ve caught the small smiles, the lifted corners of his lips, the way his eyes linger on you a little longer. you know, you just don’t want to. knowing is dangerous. getting close like that is dangerous. letting yourself entertain the thought is dangerous. 

it’s not just that he’s sky’s little brother. that in and of itself is playing with fire; the fallout if things don’t work out between you and taehyung is probably the only thing you want even less to think about than just the idea of falling into him in the first place. 

but you don’t do well with the concept. half of you is too used to relying on yourself; the other half of you knows that you’ve spent a lifetime relying on him. his family. you’ve wormed your way in with the kims, pretending to play house with a family that isn’t yours. no matter how the kims welcome you in as one of their own, you know it isn’t real. it’s all illusion. smoke and mirrors. 

taehyung takes care of you quietly, and the comfort is so relieving you feel like you could sink right into it, safe and sound. the weight on your shoulders lightens so much, you could cry from the lack of pressure. then you return to your world, and reality rips you right out of that safety net. suddenly his constant warmth is a threat, and he’s no longer a hearth, he’s a wildfire, uncontrollable and destructive. 

well, no. taehyung isn’t the destructive one. 

you are. 

so you try your best not to fall into him. not to slip, let him carry you. to not rely on him more than you already have, to not do more than what you can reason off as acceptable. 

you look away from him. “you’re taehyung,” you say lamely, after a too-long pause. you redirect instead. “what are you doing here, for real?” 

he keeps his hands in his coat pockets as the two of you start walking again. he shrugs a little. “you said you were closing today.” he glances around. “it’s dark out.” 

“i can walk myself home, you know.” 

he hums in return. 

the two of you lapse into silence. you find yourself quiet around taehyung more and more often these days, failing to fill the space with aimless stories and light jokes. but you’re tired from work and it’s cold and somehow taehyung makes it feel comfortable. like the silence doesn’t imply loneliness. 

but the thoughts that have been knocking around your head for the past few weeks get louder now that your surroundings are at peace. you don’t know what wills you to say it out loud, but you do. “sky didn’t tell me about namjoon.” 

if taehyung’s surprised you’re telling him this, he does a good job not showing it. he’s quiet for a minute. then, “i know.” 

you stare at the ground. you feel like you should explain yourself, as if there’s something you need to defend. “well, she told me eventually. just not at first.” 

taehyung pauses. you stop with him, a little nervous, though you’re not sure what for. he’s not looking at you at first, but then his gaze slides over to you, unreadable. but his eyes soften, and gently, he repeats, “i know.” 

you hold his gaze. you mull over your thoughts, at the idea of letting him in. letting him hear what it is you want to say. 

you don’t usually tell anyone what you’re thinking. honestly, you don’t even usually let yourself get far enough to have the kind of thoughts worth spilling out to someone like this. maybe if you had a therapist they’d unpack that for you, but you don’t exactly have time for therapy in between the jobs and the not-failing-out-of-college thing. 

taehyung waits patiently. like his sister, he’s always listened to you, no matter how outrageous your commentary gets. but while sky tends to laugh at your excessive monologues, taehyung either stays silent or offers up quick, witty remarks, or quiet, supportive commentary. even when he says nothing, he seems to understand you, just from the way he looks at you. 

you wonder. when, in all the years taehyung has been beside you, did he learn to understand you? 

and when, in all the years you’ve been beside him, did you start to want to let him? 

letting yourself mold and blend into taehyung and sky’s world was one thing. but letting taehyung seep into yours, where the colors dull and gray out, and the lights dim and flicker, is something else entirely. you keep him and all your childhood friends on the other side of the fence. where it’s safe. where things are good. 

but it’s hard to climb back to the side with the weeds, the overgrowth, alone. you get splinters every time, and you peer between the pickets wondering when the fence will be taken down. when you’ll be able to sweep away the imaginary lines you’ve drawn for yourself, when you’ll allow yourself to stand on the side where the grass is greener. 

but even if it’s hard to be alone, it’s harder still to let taehyung step into your world. it’s terrifying. you open your mouth to speak but you keep coming up empty, the words dying on your tongue whenever you exhale. how can you let him carry your burdens? how can you let him see what it’s like on this side of the fence, when he’s always lived across the street? 

everything you want to say keeps fizzling out. you can’t do it. you’ve conditioned yourself to keep quiet. 

but taehyung sees the lost look on your face and softens. he sees the panic start to creep in, your defensive instincts rising back up, and he leans down towards you. “should we follow them around?” 

you blink at him once. twice. then splutter, shoving him back by the shoulder. “what?” 

the amused twinkle in his eyes doesn’t slip by you, or your rapidly weakening heart. “yeah,” he shrugs, dark eyes lit with humor. “hide in the bushes, all that. figure out if he’s a good guy.” 

you scoff, helpless grin spreading across your face. the tension melts off your shoulders just like that. “didn’t take you for that kind of brother, kim taehyung.” 

he glances at you, observes the way you’ve relaxed again, stress erased from your features, if temporarily. he makes a sound in the back of his throat, swaying from side to side. “she’s still my sister,” he says airily, and you bump against his side, smiling affectionately up at him. 

“you’re a good kid, taehyung.” 

he frowns at that. after a half-minute of contemplation, he finally mumbles out, “i’m not a kid,” knowing full well that it makes him sound exactly like a kid. you snort. 

“how long have you been holding that in for?” 

he gives you a sour look. you chuckle, deciding to let him off easy. “you’re a good brother, tae,” you correct. he seems satisfied with your amendment, and you bite your cheek to try and dampen your smile. 

when he drops you off outside your building, you lean up to ruffle his hair and thank him for taking you back. he leans down a little to make it easier for you to reach, but his eyes remain on you, and for a second, your breath escapes you. slowly, you lower your hand back down to your side, fingers curling in shyly. you hold his gaze, unable to look away. 

he doesn’t straighten back up even though you’ve pulled away, just letting the silence sit between you. you’re supposed to say something, anything, but taehyung’s mesmerizing, and you forget all of the supposed-to’s in favor of simply staring back at him, time coming to a momentary standstill. 

distantly, you think it’s odd, but you don’t mind it. you don’t mind staying in this moment, where it’s quiet and peaceful and you don’t have to think about much of anything at all, all your worries winding down when taehyung is around. he smiles at you and your brain kinda just shuts off, focusing only on the pretty curve of his lips. 

“call me whenever you’re working late,” he says, bringing you out of your reverie. “i’ll always walk you home, sun.” 

the words fit into your chest like missing pieces of a puzzle. that’s what being around taehyung feels like, like he’s patching all the holes inside you, slowly building back up the things you thought had worn down beyond repair after years of pressure on your back. he fixes up the lights, repaints the walls, redecorates the shelves. 

that’s why he’s your star, you think. even in the dark, he makes it easy to find your way home. 

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

[jungnoir]

one of those days;

park jinyoung | "It’s 2am and I’m drunk and I need some salt for my fries and I know your awake so OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR" neighbor!au. | 1.9k words. | fluff. requested.

When you pull your headphones off for the first time that odd Tuesday night, you’re surprised to find that something loud and heavy is hitting your front door in quick succession, not seeming to let up even as you stare dumbfounded at the oak door in silence. It was late, way late, and none of your friends in their right mind would be awake right now and banging on your front door like a crazy person. Any friends of yours with eyes still open right now were on the other side of your computer screen, currently fighting dungeon trolls while you were on pause to get a cup of water. Whoever this was, you were almost certain that you didn’t know them.

Grabbing the nearest object to you, you find that it’s your gaming championship trophy sitting close to the front door, where whatever strange fate awaited you. There was no telling who could possibly be banging down your door at two in the morning, but you were prepared to bash their skull in if they tried anything funny.

Standing on your tippy-toes, you level your eye to the peephole and look through, and find yourself thoroughly shocked at the head of pitch black hair within your view. In seconds, you’re yanking your front door open with a sheepish smile, “J-Jinyoung, what brings you here so late at night?” Shit. I was probably yelling too loud during that last scuffle with the demon pirates.

Park Jinyoung was, for lack of a better word, cranky. He was your next door neighbor, and frequently brought up any and all complaints he had against you (which weren’t few and far in between, mind you) whenever he felt the need. The most you knew was that he was a personal assistant for some really high-up dude at a stuffy office downtown, and he would often have to get up at four a.m. just to beat the traffic to get to work. You’d hear his soft, operatic singing in the shower stall across from yours, and you’d know he was ready for work instantly.

He often didn’t make it home until seven, which left you wondering why he wasn’t completely knocked out cold on his comfy bed by now, but with the way he was eyeing you, you had a feeling something was keeping him up. And damn did he reek of alcohol. 

Taking another look, you realized Jinyoung’s eyes were burning red, his skin flushed and puffy, and his hands... holding a plate of fries. They were slightly burnt, too, the poor thing. “Salt.” Is all he says after a few beats of awkward silence.

“...Salt.” You repeat back, and his head nods up and down in a stiff fashion. He holds out his plate of fries to you and you swear you see a tear roll down his cheek when he looks at the fried potatoes, looking none too appealing to you. 

“I... I made fries,” he starts, stating the obvious, “I got home and I dumped half a bag of curly fries into the oven but when I bit into one... it was dry. Tasteless! So I went to the cabinet to get some salt to season them but I was out! I just bought salt the other day and now I’m out! Why does this have to happen to me? Of all days, today is the day I run out of salt. Does God hate me? Is he punishing me for not saying hello to Mrs. Ahn on the fourth floor? I mean, you can’t really blame me, she always says ‘Good Morning’, even when it’s like eight at night! I’ve tried to tell her that morning has long since passed but she does the same thing everyday on repeat and it really grinds my gears-” “Jinyoung, are you drunk?”

The boy stops, halfway through his spiel, and his slightly crazed gaze makes its way to you. He takes a breath and shuts his eyes, exhaling roughly. Then he shakes his head and his usually immaculately styled mane falls into his eyes in an oily mess. “I haven’t slept for more than five hours in the last two days. My boss keeps piling work on me and I can’t even see straight right now so I’m not exactly sure why I went to you instead of Jackson across the hall- no, wait, I do. It’s because you’re always awake.”

You let out a little giggle, but it’s laced with a soft layer of pity that has you removing the plate of fries from his hold and placing it inside your apartment. Much to Jinyoung’s surprise, you hook your hand into his and pull him inside, and his eyes immediately fly around your apartment the moment he enters.

Granted, it’s not the cleanest it could be right now, but it is nicer to be in than his own home.

His home, where everything is in its place and there’s hardly anything homey to decorate with (he still hadn’t collected that last box of his things from his parents’ place), is sometimes so cold that he finds it easier to leave for work everyday. The threat of something cosy and comforting would be far too tempting. 

And your home is just like that. Warm looking, blankets strewn over overly stuffed couches and cute, oddly colored trinkets lining the walls. There are stacks of books along the floors and a pretty impressive entertainment system in your living room, right next to where your desktop sits on your desk. He realizes he’s interrupted you in the middle of something, and he feels the guilt hit him hard, “Were you busy with work? I’m sorry.”

You shake your head with another lighthearted laugh, “Work? I game for fun, man. Though, technically, game review is my job, but it does call for me to be up at all hours of the night testing out said games to their full extent,” you say, and then stop halfway into your apartment to lean in closer to Jinyoung, “don’t tell anyone though, I’m really just playing an RPG right now. My boss has been on my ass about getting this new game finished and I couldn’t care less.” 

Jinyoung’s eyebrows raise some, “You game for a living?”

“’Course,” you grin, releasing him to enter your kitchen. The lights inside are different colors of the rainbow that look oddly attractive, even if they do look extremely inefficient. You fish out a few tupperware bowls from your fridge and a paper plate at the same time as you talk, “it’s why I’m always up gaming. I have a lot of work to do. Fun thing about it is that I rarely have to go to the office, so I’m always just lounging around here.”

Jinyoung watches in awe as you scoop various sides and meats onto the paper plate. He had always assumed you were just some lazy college student mooching off her parents’ money for tuition and living on her own just so she could play games well into the morning hours and be as laid-back as possible. Turned out, he’d been completely wrong.

He can’t stop himself from apologizing, “I’m sorry.”

You’re just popping the plate into the microwave when he says it, the boy looking like a disobedient puppy that had just been reprimanded by its owner. All you can do is smile, shrug, and go back to staring at the microwave. 

The apartment fills with the sounds of multiple electronic beeps a minute or two later before you’re fishing out the plate and wrapping it tight with aluminum foil. He watches as you slip the plate onto the island between you two, gaze warm and... inviting. “I made sure to exclude a slice of the cherry pie I made, since you’re allergic to those.” You remembered that offhanded comment he made from two years ago? He hadn’t even said it to you, rather to Jackson who had offered him a sip of his cherry milkshake. Now that he had thought about it, you were in the hallway when it happened. Hell, he just barely remembered it.

“You like... to cook?” Jinyoung felt awfully bad, what with you remembering he was allergic to cherries, something he hadn’t even told you directly from two years ago, and him not even knowing your own profession. But you sure knew his; he used it as an excuse to complain to you often enough.

“Since I’m always at home, I decided to take up a hobby. It’s a nice thing to do with my hands every now and then, you know? You should come by whenever you’re running low on real food, okay? I make plenty for just a girl who lives alone, and those plastic knock-offs you call french fries can’t hardly be good for you.” Your tone takes on a slightly motherly tint to it that has Jinyoung involuntarily straightening up, much to his embarrassment when you smile. 

He takes the plate with careful hands, feeling the overwhelming swell of stressful emotions he’d been harboring for the last week oozing off his shoulders like mud. Something about being in your comfortable home, smelling your delicious cooking, and being comforted by the friendly smile on your face made Jinyoung feel a whole lot better all of a sudden.

Rubbing at his wet eyes, he put the plate down and pulled you into a hug out of nowhere, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and crushing you to him. On any other day, this would have seriously caught you off guard, but not today. 

You had been seeing Jinyoung’s mood deteriorate for the last few days, his anger catching up to him before his mind could. You tried often not to take it to heart, for you knew he was going through a lot more than he was letting on. All he really needed was a hug. A nice, warm, comforting hug from someone who could take a minute to care.

Your arms held his tall body close, hands rubbing up and down on his cardigan to warm him up some. “Why don’t you call in sick tomorrow, hm? Take the day off just for you. You can even come over again if you want. I’ll show you some good anime to binge, make these bacon-wrapped jalepeno poppers I’ve been dying to try my hand at… what do you think?”

Jinyoung was not close to you, but he wasn’t very far from being considered a friend either. Even if he did often complain about your loud yelling or the music you played on high volume or the stray cats you coaxed toward your balcony (and inevitably toward his to bat down his potted plants every other week), you were also letting his drunk self meander in your kitchen, and you were making him a to-go plate of homemade food to fill him up because you cared. 

You may have been odd, and the very opposite of Jinyoung in every way, but it wasn’t so bad if you allowed him a quick get away from adult life every once in a while. You had preserved a childlike wonder that Jinyoung hadn’t even realized he admired more than he did not. You were a pretty cool person after all.

“Sure. Why not?” It just took a few too many beers and a half bag of unseasoned curly fries to realize that.

[pja2jae]

I’m just going to need a couple years to recover from these 😵🙃💙 it’s fine 🙂

[viriyanon]

istg bambam just impersonate jb and he almost got his neck broken while jinyoung petting jb’s head and he only got a shy smile and half-hearted disapproval wtf im jaybee boi is whipped smh

[cloudykaii]

Two ideas involving got7 8th. One, maybe something like 8th gets pretty sick and is taken care of by the other members. It's cliche but I have a massive soft spot for that kind of stuff. And also, just something talking about got7's dynamic with her members. It'd be interesting to read about.

Yugyeom was the most worried, believe it or not. The others told him that it was just a small cold. A little cough and you were fine, but he just had a bad feeling about it all. They all had someone- a family or at least friends that were kind of close by, but all you had was them, and he didn’t like the idea of you having to fend for yourself while they hung out. 

His instincts turned out to be proven right when he was flipping channels and got a call from the hospital. He had no idea that he was even on your list as an emergency contact, but it was a good thing he was. The first thing he did was rush there, calling the others. Due to restrictions, they couldn’t all rush to the hospital, so the others all settled for setting up your place for someone to stay with you for a while. 

“I told you, I’m fine!” you could be heard grumbling as you opened your front door. Jackson almost laughed as he heard the little argument you were having. The sight of them all in your living room only made you huff. “This is so dramatic, I’m fine.”

“You told us you were fine before and then had a fever so high you passed out and laid there until your neighbor got worried you weren’t answering her calls and called an ambulance,” Mark deadpanned. 

Jinyoung nodded. “Forgive us for just wanting to make sure you’re alright, we know that makes us the worst kind of criminal and hope you’ll find it in your heart somewhere to forgive us,” he smarted off as he grabbed your hand to help you sit down. You looked pale and absolutely worn out, but thankfully they all knew your diagnosis and could help. 

You wanted to argue some more but all the exertion was making the sight of them swim in front of you so you just nodded and let your body slump into the chair. “Fine.”

BamBam moved to check your temp again before holding out your prescribed medication and a glass of water. “Don’t give me that look, that pout only works on Jackson and Mark,” he raised an eyebrow. “You’re not getting out of this, now take them.” They all just cared and wanted to make sure you were alright. They love you, even if every step reminded them of trying to take care of a sick child..

[multistan-kpopwritings]

Second Chance

➟ pairing(s): Mark x Reader

➟ genre(s): Angst and Fluff

➟ word count: 1.5K

➟ warnings: Age Gap

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Mark said softly. He stooped and wiped the tears from your cheeks. "You're only 14, I'm 20. This won't work." You sniffled and brought your eyes to meet his.

"Can't you just wait for me?" you plead. Mark's heart broke to see you like this. You were his neighbor's daughter and he's known you for about 10 years.

Today you knocked on his door and confessed your undying devotion to him, but it was something he couldn't reciprocate.

"You'll grow up and forget about me," he said softly. "You'll find someone that you won't need to wait for."

"You're wrong," you cried. Mark hung his head as you ran back home sobbing.

8 years later, Mark was home celebrating his birthday. He looked around the room at his friends that flew in, family and... you.

He hasn't seen you since he turned you away. Every time his parents mentioned you or your family, he wanted to know more but never pried. He didn't know if it was fair of him to insert himself in your life now. You were the one thing in his life he regretted letting go of. Yes, you were much younger than him; however, he could have waited or tried once you were older. It wasn't like he dated while he was away.

You threw your head back and laughed at something Joey said. He encircled his arm around your waist and was walking you closer to Mark and his friends.

"Mark, look who I ran into this afternoon," Joey stated. "She's visiting friends." You hugged Joey and laughed again.

"He wouldn't take no for an answer," you jabbed Joey's side. "Happy birthday," you said wrapping your arms around Mark's neck, maybe lingering a little too long. He pulled you back and took your appearance in.

"Wow, you look astounding," he smiled at you. "These are my friends, Jay B, Jackson, JinYoung, YoungJae, BamBam, and Yugyeom." All the men smiled and greeted you. You waved back before excusing yourself.

"We'll catch up soon," you called to Mark as you faded into the crowd. His 6 friends attacked him with questions about the mystery girl. He smiled when he thought about you and how the years have treated you well.

"That's Y/N. She was my neighbor when she was a kid," he told to his friends. "I haven't seen her in years."

"Wow," Jackson said elbowing his friend, "Do you think she's single?"

"Don't even think about it," Mark warned.

Later that evening, he found you talking with his father, Raymond. His parents have always loved you and treated you like their youngest child.

"Mark, come here. Look at who made it to see you today," his father said. "Can you believe little Y/N just got her Ph.D.? Seems like yesterday she was chasing you and Joey around like a puppy." You playfully slapped his arm.

"Stop! It's Mark's birthday. You have to tell awkward stories about him, not me. I'm the guest," you playfully scolded. "Besides, it's Doctor Y/N now."

"You've grown up wonderfully. I'm sure your parents are proud of you," he smiled affectionately. "Is there a special man in your life? I'm sure you have them lined up to have your selection of." You flushed and met Mark's eyes. He was waiting with bated breath for your reply.

"No. No one like that," you conceded, "Not anymore."

"Well, just so you know," Raymond whispered conspiratorially, "I still have one VERY single son. It would be delightful to have a doctor in the family." He laughed when horror covered Mark's face. "Any man would be lucky to have you in his life." He squeezed you in a hug and left you with an embarrassed Mark.

"Very single, huh," you taunted Mark. "Papa Tuan isn't a good wingman." Reaching out, you stroked his arm lightly. "How have you been? I heard your new release, it's great."

"It's great to be able to do things the way I want," Mark confessed. "I miss working with the guys sometimes, but we're all busy with our projects." He smiled and leaned on the wall next to you. "It is a bit intimidating, ya know? We had such great success with GOT7, it was surreal." Tucking your hair behind your ear you giggled.

"You guys were great. I bought all your albums," you admitted. He raised his eyebrows to you, a little surprised. "Yes. 100% Ahgase here," you laughed raising your hand.

"Ok, ok. Who is your bias," Mark asked, "You have to have one." You chewed your lip and rubbed your chin.

"JaeBeom is cute," you said denoting his friend, "Do you think I can get his number?" You laughed out loud when Mark tickled your sides.

"No, I don't think you can! That's offensive," he frowned. You laughed harder at his reaction.

"I was kidding! Did you think I would really forget about you Mark Tuan?" you said softly, licking your bottom lip.

"Y/N! Honey, it's so good to see you," Mark's mom called to you. She pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek. "You are so gorgeous, isn't she Mark?" He rolled his eyes and ignored his mom.

"Thank you, Mama Tuan," you hugged her back. "My mother sends her love."

"Oh! I miss her dearly," his mom said, "You know we always thought of each other as family. I was so sad when your parents moved." She looked between you and her son and smiled. "I'm glad you two are getting along. Have a great night." She squeezed your hands and left you alone with Mark again.

"So, Ph.D., huh? So what are you planning on doing DOCTOR Y/N," he asked hastily changing the subject?

"Well, my degree is in art history. I just accepted a job at the Smithsonian as their lead art authenticator. I was celebrating with some friends from Berkely when I bumped into Joey," you fiddled with your cup as Mark watched you.

"Wow, that is impressive," he said astonished. "You've always been an intelligent girl. I'm not surprised you're doing so well." He gently bumped your shoulder. "But no boyfriend," he asked anxiously?

"Nope," you responded, popping the P. "I just broke off my engagement." Mark grabbed his chest in mock horror.

"Engagement? I thought you were saving yourself for me," Mark teased you. He regretted that choice of words as soon as they left his lips. Half expecting you to blush and turn away, he was shocked when you boldly turned to him.

"Who says I didn't? I don't know why you thought I would forget about you, Mark," you whispered to him. "I'm not a kid anymore, but I still love you," you stepped closer and looked up through your lashes. "Maybe I can give you a kiss? For your birthday or for 14 years old me. Please?" He was visibly excited under this attention.

"People are watching," he pointed out. "Meet me by the pool in 20 minutes."

That was by far the longest 20 minutes of your life. As you turned to leave, sure that Mark wouldn't show, there was a small tug on your arm. You found yourself against pinned between Mark and the wall most distant from the view of anyone else.

"You've always been a brave girl," he whispered in your ear, "I like that about you." He licked his lips and leaned in so close you could feel his breath on your face. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair and tenderly traced his jaw, smirking when he leaned into your touch.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" you whispered. "I've been thinking about this for a long time. Every man I've ever kissed, I imagined it was you." A tiny smile tugged the corner of his lips.

"Are you sure you want to do this," he asked you, his lips almost on yours, "What if you're disappointed? I mean I am a good kisser, but that's a lot of pressure." You giggled and closed the distance separating the two of you.

At first, it was just a quick brush of lips on one another. Feeling him smile against your mouth, you encircled your arms around him and pressed yourself against him. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist.

Your next kiss was breathtaking. You held on to Mark as if he would disappear if you let go. For years, this was all you fantasized about. He kissed you with passion and hunger. His head felt dizzy and kissing you was the only thing that kept him grounded. When you forced yourself to pull away, his lips pursued yours. You smiled at the whine of protest that came from his lips.

"Wow," you said breathlessly, "That wasn't disappointing." He chuckled and tucked his face into your neck. "Want to do it again?" you invited playfully.

"And again. And again. And again," he said kissing you between each sentence. "We have a lot of missed time to make up for."

[jongrecs]

ENTRANCE

NEEDS A MAJOR UPDATE WILL DO SOON

Started: 1/21/2022 ❏

Updated: 1/22/2022 ⤾

masterlist pt1 pt2

EVERY POST HERE IS A REBLOG ALL CREDS GO TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS

Key ꗃ: fluff ♡ angst ✘ smut ⩩

personal favs ✰ humor !i horror/crime ⚠︎

slow burn ᶻz series (s) oneshots (o)

time stamps (ts) smau ⌨ headcannons (h)

drabbles (d) blurbs (b) fast paced ➠

rec list starts underneath

HONGJOONG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SEONGHWA

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

YUNHO

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

YEOSANG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SAN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

MINGI

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

WOOYOUNG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JONGHO

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JINJIN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

MJ

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

EUNWOO

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

MOONBIN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

ROCKY

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SANHA

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

NAMJOON

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JIN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

YOONGI

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

HOSEOK

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JIMIN

neighbors ⚠︎ ✘⩩

TAEHYUNG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JUNGKOOK

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JUNGWON

boyfriend application !i ♡ ⌨

HEESEUNG

no nut november ⩩ !i ⌨

who cares if they hear ⩩ o

JAY

obsessive ⩩ o

no nut november ⩩ !i ⌨

deuce ⌨ !i ✰

JAKE

no nut november ⩩ !i ⌨

burn for you ⩩ ♡ ✰ o

SUNGHOON

no nut november ⩩ !i ⌨

sex rampage ⩩ o

SUNOO

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

RIKI

red thread ✘ ✰ o

SCENARIOS

wash day ♡ ✰

SAEROM

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

HAYOUNG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

GYURI

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JIWON

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JISUN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SEOYEON

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

CHAEYOUNG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

NAGYUNG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JIHEON

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SCENARIOS

JAEBEOM

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

MARK

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JACKSON

NOT HAPPENING

JINYOUNG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

YOUNGJAE

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

BAMBAM

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

YUGYEOM

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SCENARIOS

HASEUL

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

VIVI

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

YVES

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JINSOUL

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

KIM LIP

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

CHUU

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

HEEJIN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

HYUNJIN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

GO WON

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

CHOERRY

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

OLIVIA HYE

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

YEOJIN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SCENARIOS

SHOWNU

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

WONHO

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

MINHYUK

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

KIHYUN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

HYUNGWON

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JOOHONEY

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

CHANGKYUN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SCENARIOS

TAEYONG

birthday boy ⩩ !i

TAEIL

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JOHNNY

birthday boy ⩩ !i ✰ o

valentine ⩩ o

YUTA

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

KUN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

DOYOUNG

birthday boy ⩩ !i ✰ o

valentine ⩩ o

push and pull ⩩ !i ᶻz o

TEN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JAEHYUN

birthday boy ⩩ !i ✰ o

valentine ⩩ o

WINWIN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JUNGWOO

valentine ⩩ o

LUCAS

no.

MARK

rainy day ⩩ o

XIAOJUN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

HENDERY

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

RENJUN

rainy day ⩩ o

hot sauce ⩩ ✰ s

JENO

rainy day ⩩ o

hot sauce ⩩ ✰ s

HAECHAN

rainy day ⩩ o

baby face ⩩ !i ᶻz o

hot sauce ⩩ ✰ s

JAEMIN

rainy day ⩩ o

test packet ⩩ s

go there with you ⩩ o

2:27 am ⩩ ♡ ✰ ts

hot sauce ⩩ ✰ s

YANGYANG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SHOTARO

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SUNGCHAN

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

CHENLE

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

JISUNG

NOTHING HERE YET ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SCENARIOS

masterlist continued