#got7 angst

It took a minute for you to piece the context clues together. “Oh, your fuck buddy?”

He cringed. “I wanted her to be more than that. I thought…I thought if I was patient she’d see our potential.”

“Did you both agree to keep it no strings attached?” He nodded with a pout. “I won’t say it, but you know I’m thinking it.” You sipped from your coffee. “So, what happened?”

“I got a text from a friend telling me she’s hooking up with this guy who’s had it out for me for years. The closest thing I have to an actual nemesis.” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, inhaling through his nose, then exhaling loudly through his mouth. “I honestly can’t see myself sleeping with her ever again.”

Your eyes widened as you puckered your lips in surprise. “Oh! Well, um. At least you figured that out before you made any life-changing steps.” You bit into your donut.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a plus, but I…” He huffed. “I thought she’d be different.”

“I mean, it isn’t like you didn’t go into this situationship with a mutual agreement. You said yourself that you weren’t looking for anything serious.”

He covered his face with his hands. “I thought we agreed to no ‘I told you so’ when it comes to heartbreak?” His voice was muffled, and it was difficult to take him seriously. “You can’t kick a bestie when he’s already down.”

“I’m not trying to! I’m just restating the facts hoping you’ll realize how ridiculous this sounds. You were hoping your friend with benefits, who agreed with you to keep it NSA, would say fuck it and fall in love with you. Hon, this isn’t a romance novel.” He dropped his head on the table, nearly knocking over his coffee. “In my opinion, it’s the loneliness talking. Everyone has a pet for a reason.”

“I can’t take care of a pet!” He sat up. “I can barely take care of myself.”

“You have a whole fucking entourage of people with you at any given time. Surely one of them can help. Or! How about asking one of them to be your emotional support person?”

He looked at me, visibly confused. “Why would I ask them when I have you?”

“Jackson?!”

You both jumped at the shrill call of his name. He immediately shrunk in on himself as you looked around for the source of the voice. A tall woman who had to be 95% legs was crossing the street towards your little table outside of the cafe. You looked at him, intending to ask if she was the topic of the morning, but he wouldn’t look up.

She reached the table and pushed his shoulder. “Hey, you jerk. Any reason you’re ignoring my fucking calls? Did you forget you were supposed to come over last night?”

Nevermind the fact that you’d never met her and she could’ve at least acknowledged that you were sitting there watching the drama unfold. Two seconds in and you were already done with her, but you wouldn’t leave unless Jackson was ready to go. So, you picked up your coffee and sipped loudly.

Jackson lifted his cap and pushed a hand through his hair. “Something came up. By the time I was done, I was too tired to drive.” He forced himself to look at her. “Sorry. I should’ve let you know.”

“But you’re here now with someone else?” She gestured at you. “I mean, you can just be honest with me. Just tell me you’ve found another fuck buddy.”

Your eyebrows shot up, and you nearly choked on your drink. “Excuse me?”

Jackson shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. You don’t get to stand there and make wild ass accusations when I have pictures of you all over someone else just hours after being in my bed.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” She took a step back, jaw dropped.

Jackson didn’t respond and instead picked up his phone. A few swipes and he held it up to her. “That’s you, right?”

Is this what it’s like to be a fly on the wall? You couldn’t see the picture, but oh boy, you could see her face, and she was losing color faster than an old monotone cartoon character. Fuck, you might need a bag of donut holes to substitute popcorn for this front-row entertainment.

“So what, you have your friends watching my every move now?” She folded her arms, and her gaze flicked over to you. “I can’t do what I want, but you have time for cute little coffee dates with nobodies?”

You scoffed. “Oh, please. Don’t let my being here distract you from the real issue.” You stood up, tossing your empty cup into the trash. “I’m going home.”

“What? You can’t leave me here.” Jackson tossed his trash and started after you, but his fuck buddy grabbed his arm.

“Excuse you—”

He jerked away. “Don’t. We’re done. Don’t call or text or message me on Insta—nothing. Forget I exist.” He turned away from her and marched over to you, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards his car.

“Are you shitting me right now?!” the woman screamed. “You can’t be serious.”

“Serious as a goddamn heart attack.” He opened the car door and gestured for you to get in. “Watch your head.”

She continued yelling at him as he went around to the driver’s side, but it was clear he wasn’t paying attention to a word she was saying. He got in with a huge grin as he put on his seatbelt. “So, what do you need to travel?”

“I’m sorry, what?” You looked at him with several degrees of concern. “What are you—” You remembered the previous conversation. “Jacks, no. When I said emotional support human, I meant someone already in a position to travel with you. I have a life here, a job that pays my bills so I can support that life.”

“Okay, but consider this: will that job pay for a vacation somewhere pretty like Bali?” He pulled away from the curb.

“Oh, my fucking—I hate you so much.”

“You do not. You love me, admit it.”

Nothing changed at all.

Which is why your best friend BamBam had you pinned against Jaebeom’s bathroom counter, his hand snaking under your shirt while his plump lips pressed fleeting kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone.

You and BamBam had started hooking up a couple years ago- you were both drunk and lonely. He was hanging out at your house, the two of you drowning your sorrows in red wine, both of you mourning the long-term relationships you’d just gotten out of. Neither of you really intended for it to happen- you don’t even really remember it actually happening, but next thing you knew, you were waking up in the morning with your best friend sleeping soundly next to you- sans clothing.

After that, it kind of just…kept happening. You would be hanging out at one of your houses, just watching TV or eating dinner together, and then, suddenly, you were all over each other. You didn’t love BamBam. Not like that, at least. But he took care of you in a way no one else had ever really been able to.

One day, the two of you were backstage in the green room at one of his shows, something about the adrenaline pumping through his veins after a successful performance drew him straight to you like a magnet. The second he entered the room after his encore, he went straight to you, his lips attaching to yours, breathing you in like you were oxygen.

He had you pressed against the wall, one of his hands was wound tightly in your hair while the other fumbled with the button on your jeans. Your nails scratched at the exposed skin on his chest, the thin shirt he wore taking the brunt of the damage.

Neither of you heard the door creaking open, but when you opened your eyes to help BamBam with your jeans, you saw the back of Yugyeom’s head, fortunately facing away from the scene of you and your best friend making out as he spoke with a staff member. 

You quickly pushed BamBam off of you, shaking your head with wide eyes at the hurt expression on his face. He turned in confusion as you pointed at the door, his jaw dropping at the sight of your friend turned away from you in the doorway.

You somehow managed to somewhat smooth your hair and button your jeans back up before Yugyeom turned around. Fortunately, he figured the shocked expressions on your faces were just due to his surprise appearance, and not the fact that he’d almost caught two of his best friends trying to get into each other's pants.

After that, the two of you sat down and had a long discussion about the odd nature of your relationship. Deciding in the end, that it would be fine if you occasionally hooked up on the low. You were best friends, after all. Best friends were supposed to help each other out. But, none of your other friends could know. You both knew none of them would ever let you hear the end of it.

At first, you promised each other that you would only ever hook up in the privacy of your own homes- that would prevent anyone from accidentally walking in on you. Then, after one incident where you hooked up in a broom closet at one of the group's schedules, you decided that as long as whatever room you found yourselves in was locked, it would be fine. No need to wait until you got back home, or back to whatever hotel you were staying at.

Things got progressively more risky after that- empty rooms at fancy events, your own kitchen when other people were over, and now, Jaebeom’s bathroom while all your friends were in the other room. You silently prayed that the music your friends were enjoying in the living room was loud enough to drown out the sounds of your heavy breathing reverberating around the tile bathroom.

After you finished, BamBam helped you straighten out your clothes and hair, making sure neither of you looked like you just hooked up in a bathroom. He left the room first, leaving you to catch your breath and clean up as needed. You stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands, the light sheen of sweat from your previous activities still shone on your forehead. You splashed some cold water on your face, a small creeping onto your face as you heard the group laugh, probably at some stupid joke BamBam told.

You left the bathroom after a respectable amount of time, hoping that with your late return, no one would catch on to the fact that you and BamBam had disappeared at the same time. You plopped down onto the couch next to Mark, settling into the cushions as he wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulder. 

Your face tinted pink as you made fleeting eye contact with BamBam as he sat across from you, his legs spread with his arm over the back of the couch, glass of red wine in hand. You looked away from him quickly as he flashed you a wink, your eyes inadvertently meeting Jaebeom’s, who raised a curious brow at the sight of your flushed face.

You stood from the couch, excusing yourself to get a drink from the kitchen. As soon as you were in the privacy of the kitchen, you leaned back on the counter, your hands on your face as you attempted to steady your breathing.

“You been borrowing BamBam’s cologne?”

You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Jaebeom’s voice behind you. You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as he observed you with that look on his face. You knew he knew.

But maybe you could talk your way out of it. “...what do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes as he walked further into the room, leaning forward on his hands against the counter across from you, his narrow eyes burning into you. “You smelled like him when you came back from the bathroom.”

“...Okay, weirdo.”

“Do you love him?”

So suddenly? Your jaw dropped at the question. How long has he known? “He’s my best friend. Of course I love him.”

“Don’t act dumb. You know what I mean.” He sighed, walking around the counter to stand next to you. “How long have you been sleeping together?”

“Jesus christ, Jaebeom. Keep it down!” You peered into the living room, making sure none of your friends had heard the question. Sighing, you turned back to Jaebeom, cheeks flushing red as he looked down at you, his face wholly unimpressed. “...about three years.”

“Oh my god.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. You didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or offended. “Three years? Are you serious?”

You nodded dumbly, avoiding your friend’s judgemental gaze.

“God, you guys are stupid.”

“Hey! What the hell?”

“Nothing…just…” He took a deep breath, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I think you and Bam should talk.”

He left you with that ambiguous sentence. The weight of his words on your shoulders as you followed him back into the living room, taking your seat next to Mark. You deliberately avoided eye contact with BamBam the rest of the night- leaving the house quickly at the end of the night before he could corner you and ask you to come home with him.

“Talk to Bam” you didn’t know if you’d be able to look at him while your other friends were in the room ever again. They were starting to take notice of the way you’d been avoiding him, though. Asking if everything was okay between the two of you, if something had happened.

You were doing so well at avoiding him. You didn’t even know why you were. He was your best friend, the one person in the world who really knew you. And you were completely and totally shutting him out. Because one person found out.

It was nearing midnight, you were alone in your living room, a corny romcom playing on the TV while you cradled the bottle of red wine you were planning on drinking entirely on your own. You felt your eyes drifting closed, ready to fall into sleep when you heard your doorbell ring.

You groaned, setting the bottle on the table in front of you and pausing the movie before you stood, stretching your arms above your head as you slowly made your way to the front door. You figured it was just your neighbor, a nosy old woman who loved to come knocking on your door when you had the volume up just a notch too loud. You and BamBam had gotten plenty of noise complaints from her over the years.

“I know. I’m sorry, I’ll turn it down-” You sighed, opening the door, expecting to be met with the short old woman. But instead, you were met with the sight of your best friend, standing in front of you, tears actively running down his face. “BamBam? What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” He sounded out of breath, as if he’d walked all the way from his home to yours. You nodded, standing aside for him to enter your house, watching as he wandered into your living room, standing in front of your small fireplace.

“Why are you here?”

He hummed, running his fingers over the framed pictures on your mantle, his hands stopping at a picture of the two of you back when he first debuted. It was taken not long after Youngjae, whom you’d known since middle school, introduced the two of you. You were so proud of your friends for debuting, you knew it was all they ever wanted. “I was just taking a walk, I had to think about some things. Ended up over here.”

What the hell?

“BamBam, it’s freezing outside. And you live halfway across the city.”

“I had a lot to think about.”

You watched silently as he stared at the picture. He turned around, the tears on his face still prominent as he looked at you with his big brown eyes. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

His bluntness stunned you, your jaw dropping slightly as his stare only intensified. “I…don’t know.”

“You know, you’re my best friend.” Fresh tears welled in his eyes. “We’ve been through a lot together. So if something’s happened, you know you can talk to me. Right?”

“Bam, nothing happened. I just…needed some space.” You stood your ground as he set the picture back on the mantle, taking a few steps closer to where you stood in the doorway.

“Space from what? From me?”

“Yes. Actually- no.” You sighed as his brows furrowed, confusion settling across his face. “Jaebeom knows, Bam. He knows about us.”

BamBam fell silent, nodding slowly as your words set in.

“Is that so bad?”

“...what do you mean by that? Of course it’s bad. No one else was ever supposed to find out.”

BamBam sighed, taking a few steps closer to you. “Did you really think no one would ever find out? How long were you expecting to keep that up?”

“I don’t know…”

He was standing right in front of you now. “Are you going to tell me that after all those years of sneaking around, you’re not in love with me, too?”

It felt like all the air had gotten knocked out of you. BamBam was so close you could feel his breath on you. Your eyes flitted up to his, the intensity in them as he stared down at you making you feel small. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned in close, his lips ghosting your jawline. “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I touched you.”

Shit. All those years of sneaking around, feeling each other up at every given chance, blushing whenever his eyes met yours in a crowded room, your head on his chest as he slept in your bed, watching him as he slept so peacefully, showering together, eating breakfast together, giving him a secret good luck kiss before he went on stage.

Friends don’t do that.

Not even friends that sleep with each other.

Your eyes met his again as he pulled away, your back now pressed against the wall, his arms on either side of you. The shift was instant. All those years of unrealized love came pouring out of you as you grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. Your lips met his harshly, and he reciprocated immediately.

“I love you.” You whispered between kisses. His hands circled around your waist at your words, pulling you as close as could be.

“I love you, too.” He stumbled slightly as he attempted to walk backwards, “I always have.” Eventually, the backs of his knees met the couch. He fell backwards onto it, pulling you onto his lap, his hands trailing down to your hips, squeezing them tightly as your hands went to his hair.

“You’re mine.” You hummed against his mouth, sighing deeply as his beautiful lips trailed down to your collarbone, gently biting the skin, leaving his mark on you as he always wanted to. WIth fumbling hands, you began to unbutton his shirt, the exposed skin on his chest still cold to the touch from the outside air.

“I’m yours.”

You felt it as his gentle hands made their way under your shirt and to the small of your back, holding you with care, as if you would break if he was too rough. You felt it when he stood up, strong arms coming to your thighs as he carried you to his bedroom. And you felt it when he held your hands above your head as he leaned over you, his eyes glazed over, the sweat on his skin making his tan skin glow as he gave you all his love.

You didn’t always know it, you couldn’t always feel it, but he always was yours.

Everything was already settled with SM and, as for the 'wife' part, well, it wasn't like she wasn't already spending most of her days at Jaebeom's house, living a married life during the weekends. 

But, the girl forgot about one small detail: Jaebeom's enlistment. 

Jaein knew his compromise to the nation. After all, he was a citizen just like any other Korean man. But, gosh, that was hard! - especially when you have a six-month-old baby and is starting the preparations for a comeback.

Luckily, she had a huge network: her family, members, and some nannies she'd eventually hire when things were too intense - the latter being dismissed after some photos and data of John were leaked 'suddenly'. 

However, Jaein missed her husband. More than his father figure, she missed not being in charge all the time and having some time to just be his girl, turning her brain off of the world, not caring about a single thing but when they were going to cuddle again. 

The loud crying in the living room brought Jaein back to reality. Her days were a chaotic blur of toddler tantrums, sleepless nights, grueling rehearsals, outfits fitting, late-night studio sessions... Jaebeom had now enlisted a few months ago, leaving her to handle everything on her own. 

While she prided herself on being independent, the pressure was beginning to crack her. She could feel it. 

When Jaebeom finally called her after a whole week, telling her he'd be having the weekend off, she felt like she had just won the lottery. He came home to John already starting to babble something like "dad" and toddling into his arms. 

With that, for the first time in weeks, Jaein allowed herself to exhale. The love of her life was home, even if just for a weekend. 

But, as the day went on, instead of feeling relieved, Jaein found herself growing more and more irritable. Watching Jaebeom lounge on the couch, playing with John while she scrambled to prepare lunch, clean up toys, and mentally rehearse the choreography she was supposed to practice the next day, a storm began brewing inside her.

By the time John went down for his nap, the apartment was eerily quiet, but inside Jaein’s head, the noise was deafening. Her chest felt tight, her mind racing with everything she had to do—dinner to prepare, choreography to rehearse, emails from SM to answer, and the persistent guilt of wondering if John felt neglected. 

She glanced over at Jaebeom, who was lying on the couch scrolling through his phone, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched a funny video.

And something inside her snapped.

She slammed the kitchen cabinet shut, the sound cutting through the silence like a whip. 

Jaebeom glanced up, startled.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone casual, almost dismissive.

Jaein turned, glaring at him. 

"What’s wrong? Seriously, Jaebeom? Look at me!” she raised her voice. “I’m running myself into the ground trying to keep this family afloat, and you’re just sitting there, scrolling through your phone like you don’t have a care in the world."

Jaebeom blinked, sitting up. 

"Whoa, where is this coming from?” he chuckled, nervously. “I just got back, Jaein. Can I not have a moment to relax?"

"A moment to relax?" Jaein repeated, already screaming at this point.. "Do you know what I would give for a moment to relax? I can’t even sit down without thinking about the million things I still need to do! I’ve been doing this alone for months, Jaebeom. Months! And the second you come home, you act like you’re some guest here instead of John’s father or my partner." 

Jaebeom’s jaw tightened. 

"That’s not fair. You know I’d be here if I could." 

"Would you?" Jaein shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "Because it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’ve checked out like you’ve accepted that this is my problem to deal with while you’re out there, playing soldier for the next two years." 

"Playing soldier?" Jaebeom’s voice dropped, low and hurtful.. He stood, his height towering over her, but she didn’t back down. She trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t do anything else. "Do you have any idea what it’s like for me over there? To wake up at 5 a.m. every day, march for hours, follow orders, and not even have the freedom to come home when I want? Do you think I’m on some vacation?" 

"Well, I think you’re lucky!” Jaein yelled, her voice cracking. "You get to focus on one thing. Just one thing! You don’t have to juggle a screaming toddler, a demanding career, and a house that always feels like it’s falling apart. You don’t have to wonder if your son feels abandoned because you’re too busy performing for the world to read him a bedtime story!" 

"Don’t you dare!” he debated. “Don’t you dare act like I don’t care about John. I love him as much as you do."

"Then show it!" Jaein cried, tears streaming down her face now. "Because all I see is you coming home, taking the easy moments, and leaving me to deal with everything else. Do you think loving him is enough? It’s not. He needs you here. I need you here."

Jaebeom’s jaw tightened, his voice low but firm. 

"Don’t say I don’t see it, Jaein. I see how hard you’re working, and I admire you for it. But you’re acting like I don’t care, like I’m not sacrificing anything. I miss John too. I miss you. Do you know how much it kills me to not be here for you, to not be here for our son?" 

"Then why does it feel like I’m doing this alone?" she shot back, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. "Why does it feel like I’m trying and trying and trying, and you’re just... watching?" 

Jaebeom’s eyes flared. 

"Because I don’t know how to help you when you won’t even let me in! You keep everything bottled up, and then you explode like this. I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me what you need."

"I need you!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the apartment. "I need you to be here! I need you to take some of this weight off my shoulders because I can’t carry it all by myself anymore!" 

Her words hung in the air, the silence that followed deafening. Jaein’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, tears streaming down her face. Jaebeom looked at her, his expression softening as he saw just how much pain she was in.

Jaein followed her way to John's room, not really caring about Jaebeom calling her name. She had to calm herself, otherwise, she'd say even more things she'd absolutely regret later.

She didn't even know why she went to John's room. That was like her safe place. A place where she could just forget about all the problems in the world and focus on the most precious person in the world: her son. John had become her anchor in the chaos, a tiny person who didn’t care about schedules, criticisms, or the burdens she carried. He only cared that she was there. 

Stroking his soft hair, Jaein felt an overwhelming mix of love and guilt.  A perfect mix of two people that were truly, madly, deeply in love with each other. Although people would say John was the spitting image of her, Jaein couldn't spot the similarities. All she could see was a mini Jaebeom lying on his crib and that made her heart shrink even more. She had promised herself she’d hold everything together for him, but tonight had proved how fragile her resolve had become.

After checking if everything was fine with her little one, she followed her way to her bedroom. 

Jaebeom’s silhouette against the bedroom window was the first thing she noticed as she entered. His shoulders, usually so broad and assured, were slumped in defeat. The tension between them still lingered, but seeing him like that chipped away at her defenses. She hadn’t meant to lash out the way she did. It wasn’t entirely his fault - he was doing what was required of him, fulfilling his duties. But that didn’t make her feelings any less valid.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. 

Jaein wiped at the tears she didn't even notice was falling, her hands shaking. Jaebeom stepped closer, his eyes full of regret.

"I didn’t want to upset you," he said quietly, his voice raw. "I hate seeing you like this, Jaein. I hate feeling like I’m failing you. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you the way you need me to be. I thought... I thought you were handling it. You’re so strong, Jaein. Sometimes, I forget that even you have limits.”

She looked up at him, her face crumpling.

“I don’t feel strong. I feel like I’m failing. Everything and everyone." 

Jaebeom pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed against his chest. 

“You’re not failing,” he murmured. “You’re doing everything you can, and it’s more than enough. I should have seen how much you were struggling. I should have been there for you, even from a distance. I’m so sorry."

Jaein clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt. 

"I don't know how much I can keep doing this." she confessed. 

The day couldn’t have been worse. Everything that could go wrong, absolutely did and by the time you got in the cab to head to your destination, the dam was about to break.

First, an IT glitch at work caused you to lose 3 accounts that you’d been working on for almost a year with no immediate options for repair or recovery. Then, your boss called you into her office, letting you know the PTO request you submitted SIX months ago had been denied and rescinded. Third, someone had stolen your lunch out of the community fridge and you were left eating stale saltines from the bottom drawer of your desk with plain tap water to drink. Finally, the final insult with injury, you tore a hole in your slacks while trying to stop your briefcase from falling into a curbside puddle; the hinges dug deeply into the flimsy material and your skin, leaving a bloody welt behind.

You collapsed into the backseat of the cab and definitely slammed the door harder than intended. Your eyes were met with the drivers withering glare in the rearview mirror, which you answered with a shamed glance. You pulled out your phone to text the boys that you were finally on your way; advising they better have at least 3 bottles soju on hand with your name on them. Changbin responded with a simple, “Something better.”, instantly intriguing you.

The car pulled up to the massive JYP building and you stepped out, narrowly avoiding yet another puddle. Damn rainy season! You hurried up to the building and swiped your keycard to enter the lobby before it started pouring down again.

“Wow, who shit in your cereal, honey?”, asked the evening guard with a look of concern.

“The universe, my dear Dohyun, and I hope it falls into the goddamn bowl and drowns. Have a good one.” you sighed, walking past him to the elevators; barely keeping a tight rein on the waterworks. You weren’t the type to cry unless you were royally pissed off and you’d passed that mile marker 4 exits ago.

When the doors opened and you saw the SKZ dorm entrance ahead, your chest tightened. Yeah, you needed your boys tonight. Fuck this day and the horse it rode in on.

You’d just begun typing in the passcode to get into the dorm when it suddenly opened to reveal Minho standing on the other side. Shocked by your deep frown and watery eyes, he pulled you inside quickly and wrapped you into a tight hug. “Surprise NOW, guys! 911!” he said as he let go and turned to drag you behind him into the general living space. It took exactly .3 seconds to lay eyes on JB and other members of GOT7 sitting on the various couches and chairs. JB was on his feet in an instant, ready for you to leap into his arms like you always did.

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?!” you squealed, wrapping your whole body around JB’s solid frame and burying your face into his neck; letting his scent ground you. You’d been trying to set up a time to see them before they started the heavy hitting portion of their comeback activities, but schedules always seemed to get in the way. A chorus of 5 voices calling various loving nicknames joined in with JB who whispered, “Hey sweetheart.” as he hugged you tight. You raised your head, eyes locking on someone standing in the doorway that lead to the communal bathroom.

“What is THAT doing here?” your voice joined another, uttering the exact same question. Your gaze landed on the one person that you often daydreamed about dropping into a cement mixer full of quicksand.

“Oh shit, here we go.” Jackson said as he walked back to stand beside your arch nemesis himself, Park Jinyoung.

All 8 Stray Kids looked at each other bewildered, Chan’s questioning gaze meeting each of his hyungs eyes for an answer of any kind.

“I came here to spend time with my brothers, not listen to this bitch”, Jinyoung spat, a hard gaze leveled right at you.

“C’mon Hyung, can’t you keep it civil for 5 minutes?” Jackson pleaded beside him.

You slid down JB’s body to stand on wobbly legs from the adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins.

“What are you even doing here? Don’t you have some acting classes to attend? Couldn’t even convince someone with diarrhea to buy toilet paper!” your words dripped with disgust.

“What are you even doing here ‘Sweetheart’?” his last word thick with sarcastic saccharine. “Been too long since you got bent over by my brothers?”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, shoulders shaking with pure unadulterated rage. You started to open your mouth, but JB grabbed you around the waist and slapped a hand across your lips before you could speak.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s not do this okay? Let’s just have a nice visit while we can.” JB whispered against your cheek.

****

“What the hell is going on?” Changbin asked Chan who only shrugged. Yugyeom made his way over to the group to explain.

“So, we really didn’t think they would still be this angry and I’m so sorry, Hyung” Yugyeom bowed his head while addressing Chan.

“What IS going on?” Chan asked

“Noona and Jinyoung-hyung have a…complicated relationship?” Yugyeom offered as Youngjae joined them.

“They viscerally despise one another, let’s just call it what it is.” Youngjae said flatly.

“Woah, wait what?” Hyunjin asked as he joined in the conversation, the rest of SKZ following him.

“I don’t wanna overstep, but are you sure about that?” Minho offered. “They both look like they wanna devour each other, both literally and sexually.”

“Maybe?” Yugyeom responded “but let’s hope not. The last time that happened, we had to clean up broken glass, broken furniture, and they both needed stitches.”

“I’m sorry, I just hallucinated, run that back again?” Chan asked incredulously.

“They...don’t like each other, to put it mildly. I think Noona hates him more than he hates her though and the last time they were in the same room 3 years ago, they took it out on each otherand ended up naked.” Youngjae began as a commotion caught everyone’s attention.

****

“You rat bastard sonofabitch I will end you!” you screamed, struggling with all your might to wiggle out of JB’s grasp and claw Jinyoung’s face off with your bare hands.

“Oh! Is that it? You DO want them to fold you like the dirty laundry you are?” Jinyoung chuckled.

Changbin’s ears perked up at that and he took a deep breath; squaring his shoulders. “Hyung, is there really a reason for that kind of talk?”

“What are you getting so upset for little bro? Oh!” Jinyoung’s chuckle gains an edge of perverse glee. “You decided to move on to the Kids after we left, didn’t you? You just have to ride anything associated with JYP, don’t you slut?”

CRACK

In a split second, you launched yourself out of JB’s grasp and landed a closed fisted punch directly to Jinyoung’s jaw causing him to stumble backwards.

“You just miss getting fucked by JYPapi so bad that you have to take it out on me you pathetic prick!” you seethed.

Jinyoung rights himself and wipes his mouth; not fully expecting to see as much blood as he did. His eyes light up with a fire you hadn’t seen in years.

“I don’t think me getting fucked is what we should be discussing” Jinyoung’s bloody, unhinged grin would send shivers down most spines, but not you. Your thoughts turn back to the last time you two fought 3 years ago. It was brutal and bloody, but absolutely orgasmic.

“What do you want to discuss, short dick? The fact you couldn’t get pussy even if you paid for it?”

SLAP

Your head snaps to the side as the back of Jinyoung’s hand comes in contact with your cheek, the taste of metal already beginning to bloom against your teeth. He walks forward and uses his body to push you back against the nearest wall.

“You really wanna run your mouth? I’ll give you something to use it on.” Jinyoung’s words send shivers through your body as you notice his hand reaching down towards his zipper. In an instant your forearm connects with his throat as you twist your bodies around and pin him up against the same wall.

“What? That tiny dick?” you giggle, your blood smearing across your teeth.

Your slide your left hand down and grab a handful of his crotch painfully tight, his rock hard erection throbs against your palm so you squeeze harder and make him yelp.

Still pinned, Jinyoung reaches forward and cards a hand through to the back of your hair; a deceptively gentle motion until he grips a handful and yanks hard enough that you see stars.

“Oh you need it real bad, don’t you?” he smirks.

“You think you can handle me? Last time you needed stitches.” you purr, nose to nose with your adversary.

“So did you, whore.” he spits before pulling you forward into a bruising kiss, the taste of blood mingling between your tongues ignited the embers burning within your core.

****

“Um, should we do something?” Felix whisper yells, sharing a slightly panicked look with Jisung as they both keep a death grip on Changbin’s arms. The poor man looks like he wants to rip Jinyoung’s head clean off his shoulders.

“Nope, now is the time we all disappear, but you have a fully stocked first aid kit, right?” Jackson asks the scared looking group. Jisung silently nods, wide eyed, as the rest of me members voice the affirmative.

“Then let’s let them work it out. Trust me, they won’t kill each other, but it will be messy.” Mark says as he and the rest of GOT7 put arms around their Jr’s to lead them out of the dorm.

“But they just kissed with blood in their mouths?!” Jeongin whines, clearly disturbed by the sight he had just witnessed.

“I promise you, it’s not the first time they’ve ingested each others….fluids” Yugyeom says as he drags the traumatized maknae along with him and out the door.

****

Pulling his fingers from your hair, he reaches down to the collar of your dress shirt and rips straight down sending buttons flying every direction.

“I wanna see those beautiful tits.” He says thickly, his mouth still tainted by the blood from his split lip.

Letting go of the grip you had on his bulge, you reach to unbuckle his belt; yanking it free and wrapping the leather around your hand. Pulling back as far as you can, you bring it down across the side of his ass and thigh, wrenching a needy groan from his throat.

Ripping the belt from your grasp, he grabs your shoulder painfully; quickly spinning the two of you and mashing you face first into the wall.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?” he huffs against your ear before he hauls off and whips the leather across both your ass cheeks; causing you to whine. The sound goes straight to his dick as he grinds himself right into the spot where a welt is surely forming. Your legs feel like they’re gonna give out beneath you already, but you won’t give in yet.

“Oh I remember clearly…which means you should speak to your elders with more respect.” You grunt as you push off the wall hard, knocking him off balance and sending him toppling onto the nearest couch.

Grabbing the collar of his dress shirt you lean down to take a button into your mouth.

“You and your prissy…”

You bite and spit a button across the room.

“Preppy little….”

bite

“holier than thou bitch ass…”

bite

“and these goddamn dress shirts.” you spit the last button out like it offended you.

Crawling back up his body, you nip at the flesh of his chest, your incisors leaving deep indents from his happy trail all the way up to his collarbone.

The desperate moans spilling from him are enough to completely drench your panties through to your slacks.

“We’re still wearing too many clothes” his breath stutters as he tries desperately to get your slacks off, the sound of the fabric and the stitches ripping are loud enough to be heard over your heavy breathing.

You hum in agreement as your raise up enough to allow him to stand so you can work his pants off. He slaps at your hands, refusing your touch as he unbuttons and slides the fabric slowly down his thighs. You grunt in frustration, but he stops your noises cold as he slaps you across the face again. The sting sending arousal rippling through your empty walls.

“Sluts don’t get to touch until they’re given permission.” he singsongs as he steps out of his slacks and reaches forward to push you back on the couch. Before he can make contact, you grab his thighs with both hands and drag all 10 fingernails down his flesh; some of the angry red marks deep enough to bring hair-thin rivulets of blood to the surface. He hisses through clenched teeth.

“That’s right ‘sluts’ don’t.” you spit, eyes locked on the prize of his throbbing cock. Saliva pooling at the thought of feeling him pulsing and twitching in your mouth; hearing him whimper as you take him down your throat as far as you can and then pull back slowly, scraping your teeth firmly all the way up to the tip.

A grumble rumbles up from deep in his chest as he lurches forward and traps you under him, spreading your legs with the weight of his body. He knows exactly what you wanted to do with his cock and he’s not falling for it this time, it caused him to cum way too quick. You try desperately to close your legs and scoot away, for no other reason than just to piss him off more, but he slides down your body anyway, gripping your inner thighs hard enough to bruise on contact.

“Do I need to make sure you’re ready for me or is that slutty cunt already soaking wet for me?” he breathes against your quivering center. Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pull him directly into your sopping heat and grind against him; smearing slick all over his face. “What do you think?”

He grunts deeply as he rears back, hiking your left leg up towards your chest and he buries his painfully thick length balls deep; as slowly as humanly possible. It stings...it burns...and it throbs so fucking good. He sets an absolutely brutal pace, battering your pussy with thrusts hard enough to make your teeth rattle. You wrap your right leg around his back and squeeze like you’re trying to break his ribs and honestly? A small part of you wants to.

“That perfect pussy grips so tight….I’m surprised my brothers haven’t worn it out already.” he groans as he continues to plow you like his life depends on it. The sweat drips from his hair and slides down his face, his features twisted in a scowl of pure lust.

“Nuh-uh...it’s just...oh fuck...that little cock you’ve got. F-fits just right.” you cry out, raking your nails down his back until you feel your fingertips wet with his blood; the pain causing him to fuck you harder; faster. Pulling both arms above your head, he holds your wrists in one hand as his body weight holds you still. He grinds his pubic bone into your clit, setting off your orgasm like fireworks. The rhythmic clenching of your walls throws his pace off long enough for you to push him backwards onto the couch. The rough fabric making him hiss when it comes into contact with the bloody scratches down his back.

“Oh fuck, you feel incredible.” he groans as you slide down and start riding. You lean forward, wrapping both hands around his neck and putting pressure on his carotid and not his windpipe because you don’t actually want to kill him yet…maybe. The way he fills and stretches you is enough to sate the fire in you for now. His hands fly up to grip your hips like you’re going to disappear. Every moan, grunt and growl from him sending you higher and higher into bliss.

“Babe, please stop. You gotta...I’m about to…” he cries out, his hips bucking of their own volition. You wait until the last possible second and then stand. Pulling off him and reaching to grip his base tightly so he can’t blow just yet.

The painful whine that escapes him sounds like pure sin as you situate your ass on his knees and lean over, taking him down your throat in one go. The ragged hiss that escapes him is glorious. You hold there long enough to swallow around his tip and as you pull off, you scrape your teeth along his entire shaft as you’d wanted to earlier.

“No, fuck!” he yells, grabbing his dick out of your mouth so he can stop the inevitable once again. Grabbing your legs, he flips you facedown and pulls your hips up; arching your back like a bitch in heat and he’s ready to breed. He slams back in and starts fucking with long, slow, deep strokes that leave no part of you untouched. Bouncing his tip against your cervix with each thrust, he starts building speed. The loud smacks of his hips ricocheting off yours resonates throughout the room.

He reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair and pulls you up, brushing his lips against your ear.

“Ok, now I’m ready to cum. You’re gonna take it and you’re gonna like it, isn’t that right?” he growls. You feel another orgasm building with every roll of his hips, your walls gripping him tighter and tighter. “I’m gonna fill you so full and so deep and I’m not gonna pull out until your womb has soaked up every last drop of my seed. Understand?” he pants as sweat drips from his hair down to your shoulders.

Between the glide of his cock through your walls and the filth pouring from his lips, the coil in your belly snaps and pleasure washes through you like a tidal wave, your legs shaking with the force.

“That’s a good slut, here it comes. Take it! Take it all!” Jinyoung cries out, sinking his teeth deeply into your shoulder as he buries himself to the hilt, filling you with his warmth.

There’s no sound in the room save the heaving breaths coming from your tired bodies. Jinyoung lowers you back down to the couch, covering your body with his as his lips latch on where he bit you; tongue laving over the broken skin.

“Why do we always have to scar each other?” he sighs, once all the blood has been licked clean.

“Because we hate each other. It’s called a hate fuck for a reason.” you sigh wearily, not really in the mood for conversation. You just want to get up, clean up and call the boys to come back to comfort you.

“Does it have to be a hate fuck?” he asks softly as he peels himself away and pulls you into a sitting position next to him.

“What else would it be, Jinyoung?” you really don’t want to go down this road right now.

Standing from the couch, Jinyoung makes his way to the bathroom to find first aid supplies and grab a couple waters from the mini fridge. He checks you over to make sure there are no serious injuries before cleaning and applying antibiotic cream with a square of gauze to your shoulder; nearly perfectly opposite to the raised scar of his bite on the other side. When he deems it patched enough, he turns to let you tend to the slashes down his back. He sucks air through his teeth sharply as you swipe the antiseptic drenched cotton across the fresh nail marks that match the previous scars he wears from you.

“I just think that there’s obviously chemistry between us and I don’t understand why we need to be so violent.” Jinyoung says flatly, anticipating an acerbic response.

A bitter laugh painfully claws it’s way out of your chest as you grab a packet of scar cream to smooth over his back. “Chemistry? That’s...that’s rich.” your reply is quiet enough you hope he doesn’t hear over you gathering the litter from the first aid kit.

“What? I mean, I saw how you used to look at me. There was something there once and as toxic as we are now, it’s gotta be based on something.” his words cut deeper than he realizes and you feel the breath trying to leae your lungs.

“It’s not based on anything, Jinyoung. There is nothing. I don’t like you. I don’t like how you treat some of the people who look up to you.” you feel the tears creeping in from the back of your eyes and you need to get out of here now. Where’s your phone. You can text the boys to come back.

“How I treat people, what do you mean? I didn’t treat you any differently….” you cut him off mid sentence.

“Than you treated any other fan? Yeah, you’d think, but I didn’t know torment and bullying is how fans are treated around here.”

“Bullying? Torment? What are you talking about?” Jinyoung asks, genuine confusion pinching his features.

“Oh, c’mon man. Just forget it. It was years ago. It wasn’t worth talking about then, and it sure as hell isn’t worth talking about now.” you spit and begin gathering your clothes only to find not a single scrap was wearable now.

“No, we need to talk about this. We can’t keep going on like this. We obviously have some basis in trust here, I mean, would you let anyone else manhandle you the way I have?” you shake your head as he continues. “I know I would never let anyone else do the things you do to me. So, why do we need to go so hard at each other, like it’s war?” the look on his face is soft, a foreign look to you. “I’ve forgiven you, you know.”

Your head snaps up at that. “Forgiven me? Forgiven what?” shock wouldn’t even describe what you’re feeling right now.

“I know what happened that summer. I don’t blame you for...getting rid of it.” he replies, stiffly but solemnly.

You’re going to pass out. You viscerally feel the blood drain down to your feet. How could he know? Why would he know?

“J-Jinyoung. Y-You don’t k-know what you’re talking a-about.” you can barely get the words out as you shakily make your way back to the couch.

“It wasn’t the right time and definitely not the right circumstances, I mean...”

“Jinyoung, stop!” you’re gripping the armrest hard enough for your nails to slice into the fabric. 5 things...your eyes scan the room quickly. ‘I see a tv, a chair, a minifridge, a painting, a…’ and suddenly his eyes are inches away from yours.

“Hey, look at me, you’re alright just breathe okay? Here.” he hands you one of the water bottles from the coffee table.

You take it without thinking and sip carefully while focusing all your control on breathing...in….and out.

“I didn’t get rid of anything.” you say, wiping at something tickling your cheeks. Tears? When did you start crying?

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I don’t know how you knew about that, but I didn’t get rid of anything. It was stress that ended it. The stress of worrying about what would happen to me, what would happen to my relationship with the guys, what would happen with you. You already hated me enough, having your kid would’ve just…”

“I never hated you, what do you mean?” he asks, genuinely confused. “I’ll admit I was pissed off when I thought you’d term…” he can’t even finish the word. “but I eventually understood what your reasoning was. I respected you for it.”

At that moment, you felt all the walls crumbling. It was now or never. The time for constant tension and regrets was over. It was time to get it all out.

“Do you remember when we met?” you asked, simply.

“Of course, you had met Jackson at that after party and he brought you back to the dorm to introduce you to everyone.”

“No, Jinyoung. We met at a fan sign a year prior. I was there with my best friend. She was so nervous to get signatures that she felt sick, so I selfishly got in line. I was convinced, if given the chance, I could live out my Wattpad fanfiction and win my bias’ heart if I was just able to look him in the eyes.” you explained, tears falling faster now. “There was about 4 people in front of me and our eyes met. I don’t know where I got the guts, but I blew you a kiss and gave you finger hearts and you...you flicked them away.” you bite back a sob before it can start.

“I was your bias?” he asks with a sly grin.

“That’s what you got from what I just said, you ass?!” you swat at him, your fingertips bounce off the cuts on his back causing him to hiss and recoil from you.

“I’m sorry! Please continue.” he giggles, holding his hands in front of his face in surrender.

“Anyway...that whole interaction really hurt me. I wasn’t used to idols, or anyone famous really, being such a savage to their fans. I took it personally. I vowed then and there to hate you for the rest of my life. Give all my love to the rest of the members because I still loved them and the music, then I actually met you all in person. I took every chance I could to give you hell and rile you up because, fuck you, that’s why! I know how childish it sounds, believe me I’ve given myself enough grief for the both of us.”

“It’s not childish, sweetheart. That’s a trauma response. I know your history and I listened even if you didn’t think I did.” he assures, bringing a hand up to brush the tears off your cheek.

“So, you were pissed off at me for portraying my savage idol persona, I was pissed off at you for tormenting me right back and then…”

“And then that night 3 years ago. Hatefucking I believe Jackson called it. I think he was the only one who truly knew my feelings and he genuinely believed where there was smoke, there was fire, so if we just hatefucked and got it out of our systems, we’d see the underlying passion that everyone else did.” you shrug and take another sip from the water bottle. “The only thing I wasn’t planning on was for my birth control to fail. I’ve never been so terrified in my life.” you huffed a pathetic attempt at a chuckle and tried to ignore the wave of nervous nausea rolling through you.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. If I’d known...I could’ve done something?” Jinyoung offers hopefully.

“I doubt it, I was in no place mentally or emotionally to accept help, especially from you. No offense.”

“None, taken.” he replies honestly. “I’m also sorry for being angry at you...for that. Looking back, I took it personal. I thought you were so disgusted by the thought of having my kid inside you that you...yeeted the fetus.” he breaks at that, letting a good cleansing laugh out when he sees your face morph into one of horrified offense.

“Ok, grandpa. Did you get that off the Book of Faces or hear it on that there Tikkytokky?” you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your chest either. “So where do we stand?”

“I think we stand at a crossroads and I say we call it. Truce?” he brings his hand up and curls it into a fist, leaving the pinky out.

“What are you, 5?” You giggle, wrapping your own pinky around his.

“No, that’s Chan” he replies with a wide grin. “So since we don’t actually hate each other, we can’t exactly go back to hatefucking right? It was pretty hot though.” he punctuates his response with a salacious wiggle of his eyebrows.

“And I thought, from here on out, we could make love?” you ask with the gooeyest heart eyes you can muster.

“Eww, no.” he fake gags. “Let’s just release tension without battle scars and broken lamps.” the scar on the back of your arm twinges at that memory.

“Ok, but I still expect you to plow me into oblivion.” you demand firmly, arms crossed over your chest.

“Always” he replies with a grin as he walks into the room where his suitcases are and comes back with two pairs of sleep pants and a shirt. “Maybe we can try a FWB type thing. Emphasis on the friends part this time?” he asks as the two of you dress each other and get into a comfortable snuggle on the couch.

“I think that’s the least dysfunctional idea we’ve ever had.” you reply with a chuckle and it’s not long before you’re falling asleep in each other’s arms, feeling content and safe.

****

“I don’t hear anything, you don’t think they finally killed each other do you?” Yugyeom asks with genuine fear in his eyes.

“IF they had, the whole floor would’ve heard it and there’d be ambulances and fire trucks and the whole nine.” JB says as he uses his keycard on the door and opens it slowly and carefully.

“Everyone okay?” JB calls out as he peeks inside. “Everyone DECENT?” Bambam adds with a chuckle.

Jackson pushes past JB into the main room and gasps loudly at the sight before him, the rest of GOT7 and SKZ filing in behind.

“I don’t believe it.” Jackson breathes, almost inaudibly as they all take in the sight of the two of you wrapped around each other like lovers with slight grins on your faces, bloody gauze and bandaid wrappers still strewn across the coffee table.

“This is a good thing, right?” Chan asks hopefully.